derek_morgan | Contact Post

[Look, all this carrying her around like she is a sack of potatoes needs to stop... never. Every time she shrieks it's only because she enjoys this little game and likes giving up some control to him every once in a while. Besides, if he ever tosses her over his shoulder, she's so touching his ass.]

Good thing I know how to drive stick.

[Really, Angela needs to stop. Like right now before she gets him all worked up with nowhere to go.]

Derek, what's with the German?

[ It seemed he'd constantly worry his lower lip around her. Derek grinned and lightly smacked her ass at the quip about driving stick. ]

Why doesn't that surprise me in the least?

[ His fiendish grin simmered at the question as they finally made it out the door. ]

Just something I learned from a K9 handler. Teaching commands in either German or Russian makes it harder for just anyone to direct the dog.

[ The answer was given nonchalant while he wondered what Angie might ask next. He was dangerously close to being asked on his life before Eudio. Derek decided to return to their banter in hopes of a distraction. ]

I know how you like things hard, Baby.

[This time when she shrieks, they're already out on the sidewalk and a nice older looking lady turns to look Angela's way, shaking her head and muttering about keeping thee neighborhood nice. Thanks a lot, Derek. All she needed tonight was some grandma who probably smells like chocolate chip cookies and the peppermints at the bottom of her purse judging her for being loud.]

K9 handler? A cop?

[What she's really asking him is if he's a cop. Most people would have said dog trainer, but in Angela's experience, it's usually some form of law enforcement that uses the term Derek used. The wheels are turning and up starts her curiosity, causing her to completely ignore his innuendo.]

[ Get over it, Granny. This was Cuddle City after all. He might not have said as much but Derek didn't tone down his fiendish grin in the slightest.

Until Angie asked her questions. ]

Yeah, he was a cop.

[ Redirecting didn't work so he would try answering casually. Derek had a mean poker face sometimes, especially if emotions weren't involved. He was close to legendary at work. His swagger didn't skip a beat on the walk to his motorcycle. Two hard cased saddlebags were mounted to which he unlocked one then the other, removing one helmet then another and passing her one before grabbing the other. ]

Actually, I was asking if you were a cop, but I guess that's a no.

[Casual works for her because she doesn't see any hint of him avoiding the turn in the conversation, something that would set off her suspicion radar. However, that may backfire on him because as she flips the helmet over in preparation to get it on, Angela starts asking another thing.]

What do you do for a living anyway?

[ He was a cop once upon a time. In Chicago before becoming a Fed. But answering one question would just bring the next so he didn't correct Angie. Instead, he put his helmet on then waited to see if she needed help with hers.

Damn. She asked. Then again... ]

I've been working security two nights a week. One's a club and the other a bar. I'm thinking about offering handyman services since I have a background with reno-ing properties. What are you up to here?

[ Focus on her would hopefully redirect the conversation. Casual look as ever. Nothing to see here. ]

Nothing really. I'm trying to decide if I should stick with what I usually do or go back to my fresh out of college roots and try some temp gigs. Honestly, it depends on how long I feel like staying here, really.

[Now she's not avoiding giving him details of her own life at all. Angela has nothing to hide. Sure, the job's morbid and gross and she'd rather not think about it at all, but it's a job. It pays and she gets to help people. No shame in that.

Helmet on, she swings a leg over the bike and slides back so he has enough room to get on too.]

What about at home?

[If he keeps dancing around the questions, Angela will eventually cotton on and drag his ass out on the street.]

Wait, what do you usually do? That bad where you wanna turn back time and go back to college days?

[ You bet he went for that redirect. It was fair conversation. He was starting to regret that his helmets had comms in them. Derek also gave her a look when she slid back instead of taking the helm on his bike. He'd been holding it upright by the handle bar, removing the kickstand for her rather than trying to do it from behind. ]

Thought you wanted to drive?

Forensic facial reconstruction.

['Nuff said, really. The fact she can hear him loud and clear in the helmet isn't lost on her. Nice tech there, Mr. So-Called Handyman. That's not something Angela sees everyday.

And him offering her the chance to drive his baby certainly isn't one either. The dark plastic eyeshield is down in front of her face, but the screwed up facial expression Angela is making at him is probably as clear as day.]

And kill us both? How about no?

[ It took effort for his head not to snap toward her direction at her answer. However, there was no hiding how he swallowed. One brow arched in question which she had to believe was natural. Nothing about her had given off a vibe that stated she worked with law enforcement. There weren't many industries outside it requiring her profession. ]

So you work with law enforcement.

[ Statement, not a question. His visor came down, key went into the ignition, and he carefully slipped a leg over to take the helm. ]

Thought you said before you'd drive. My bad.

[ Derek turned over the ignition and started the bike. ]

What were your college days? I'm curious.

[ More like, what to discuss so he can avoid being asked questions. Not entirely though. He did find himself interested in the beauty he'd been banging. There was more than met the eye. ]

Yeah, the FBI. What? Is that a problem?

[The fact that he's looking at her like that throws Angela off a little. Of course she works with law enforcement. Who else needs a sketch artist to draw dead people? A funeral home? Does he have something to hide? A criminal past? Well, he can keep it. Angela ain't arresting anybody and nobody but the Eudio cops have any jurisdiction to nab a wanted person here anyway.]

No, I'm much happier watch people race motorcycles than driving them. [With the bike engine running, Angela instinctively raises her voice over it, forgetting the helmet has a comm in it.] I went to art school. It was exactly as you are imagining it.

[Lots of booze, lots of drugs, lots of parties with some studying and drawing thrown in for good measure.]

[ The wheels were churning hard and fast. Angela...Angela... Facial reconstruction... Could she be? Damn. Where was Garcia when he needed her? Baby Girl would just admonish him for having played a game for as long as he had before giving up any knowledge of the forensics specialist. He had to fish for a last name to be sure. For now, he tried to play along. ]

No problem. It's not like the Bureau has any pull here. I just never imagined a Fed could be so sexy.

[ He pulled away from the parked space and headed into the city. Continuing to respond to what she had said. ]

Now, see art school? That I can see. But then I guess the talent there brought you to the FBI. Any paintings of the stuffy agents naked?

[ The last was a tease intended to distract her even further. She could probably hear the mischievous grin on his lips in his words. That was his aim. He took the scenic route in an effort to mislead with the notion that he had nothing to hide and they had all the time in the world. ]

Edited 2015-09-07 16:54 (UTC)

Maybe it's because I'm not a Fed. I just work with them. And no. No paintings of them.

[They actually do have all the time in the world, or at least Angela does. There's nothing for her at her place and even less at his except for a sad container of melted ice cream in his trashcan. Taking the scenic route only means that Angela has more time and more opportunity to poke at getting to know him. She's already told him enough about her.]

You never answered my question. What did you do at home?

[She doesn't sound too hard up for the answer, but she will be soon if he keeps avoiding giving her direct responses to direct questions.]

You sure you're not a Fed? You kind of interrogate like one.

[ There was humor in his inflection. Derek let a beat pass then continued. ]

I work out of the DC area. And I've got three rentals I currently manage. I like flipping properties, mostly renovating and reviving run down places to give people not so well off a chance at living in something nice. My mom never had that chance.

[ Derek gave the bike some throttle but the noise canceling portion of the helmet comms kicked in and kept the volume between them the same. She was right to think the helmets weren't basic. Hers was the cheaper of the two and cost over five hundred. The motorcycle itself might not have been new but it wasn't cheap either. If she remembered the suit he wore the first time they met, it was another sign that he did well for himself. ]

And maybe... I know a little somethin' about your work.

[ Why he felt compelled to give Angela that tidbit, he couldn't figure out other than the feeling she'd find him out sooner than later. His voice turned serious. ]

I think we've crossed paths before. Your last name's with an M, right?

[ If his vague memory served, she was the equivalent of a good friend he worked with and would find him out the more secretive he tried remaining. Angela would have the technical skill to do so. Maybe not at Garcia's level but close. Derek was slowly coming to terms with the possible end of the good thing they had going. She hadn't exactly sounded thrilled at working with agents. ]

[Those are all things Angela noticed, but said nothing about. Actually, she didn't care that first night because she was convinced she'd never see Derek again only to be surprised she's been seeing him a lot more since then. Still, she's no golddigger and she's a woman who cares about her own wallet so whatever he wore and drove was his business.

What's not his business is the fact that he's correctly guessing her last initial. Angela knows for a fact she didn't tell him her full name and neither did he tell her his. The only way he could possibly know that is if he snooped through her stuff... or he's from her world and knows her via the few times her name has popped up in the media.

That's more troubling to her that the idea of him digging through her purse for so many reasons that Angela can't begin to list. Once a serial killer sends you body organs in the mail, one gets to be a little paranoid every now and then.]

Stop the bike.

[Her tone is no nonsense and if Derek tries to make humor out of it, she'll bang on his helmet so hard he'll get brain damage.]

[ Apparently he assumed all wrong. She wanted nothing to do with a reminder from home. Derek loosened the throttled and pulled off to the side. ]

Look...if it makes any difference, I was trying to keep my life before here to myself. It's one thing to be an FBI agent, another to be a profiler. I didn't wanna spend nights out talking about chasing monsters which I can't even talk in detail about...

[ He felt her stiff behind him when she demanded he stop his bike. If she didn't want to sleep with him anymore, Derek could deal with that more than to have alienated someone he enjoyed spending time with. Learning she somewhat shared his profession also made Angie someone who'd understand when he'd have a nightmare or look distant from the memory of a case. ]

[No, he assumed wrong. It's not that she gets reminders of home. Those never go away; either it's a nightmare or something that pings her brain into remembering the horribleness day in and day out. There's no escaping that. Angela's problem is that Derek has a shit way of supplying information and even shittier way of avoiding the whole give and take aspect of their budding friendship.

Whatever Derek was doing, he's doing terrible at it because under the helmet, Angela's eyes grow wide and round and she can't yank the helmet off fast enough so she can shove him hard with it.]

You're a profiler? In the BAU? Are you practicing your creeper act to relate to them? Is this how the FBI trains you guys? It never occurred to you to say "Oh, you work with the FBI? I'm in the FBI." Did you think I enjoy talking about all the shit we send you guys on a daily basis? Do I look like I need to be committed? How did you become a profiler and didn't think that telling me you know my name before I've even given it to you would make me think you have issues? Do you know how many whackjobs I've had find out my personal information and send me hearts in the mail? How many times I've had to change my phone number because of weirdo late night heavy breathing phone calls?

[Well. Certainly getting a mouthful from her, but to be honest, it's more out of a rush of fear leaving her and relief settling into the empty space at the bottom of her stomach. Even Brennan's not this bad at people.]

Angie--

[ He'd barely tilted the bike to a side for it to rest when she was scrambling off it, no care whatsoever of how high her skirt just went. Christ. Derek swung his leg around while taking off the helmet, letting it sit on the seat she vacated only to have the one she was wearing flung into his chest. ]

Angela.

[ He might as well have said nothing. She continued ranting at him furiously. What she said made sense and a heavy pang of guilt hit him by the time she stopped for breath. Derek set her helmet into the nearby saddlebag without having to break eye contact. His face was probably the most serious she'd ever seen it while holding something of an apology in his gaze. ]

I didn't wanna be that guy here. Back home, I would've disclosed it just like you said. Here? I wanted a break from the job that's consumed my life. I've got no one to come home to at night other than a dog because someone's always out there doing the unimaginable that needs to be stopped. Monsters that don't just torture or kill helpless people that are strangers to me but even people I know and care about. In some cases, right in front of me. ...

[ It wasn't a guilt trip by any means, even if the apology in his eyes had started to fade. Derek might have gone about it all wrong but he couldn't stand being compared to any of the unsubs he'd chased with his team. He brought himself down a notch when the anger bubbled in his chest. Angela had every right to be angry with him. His anger was at feeling like once again, his career choice ruined something good for him. ]

...I don't know how you feel about it. I know how I feel about it and I projected my mindset on you, I'm sorry. I've avoided being around law enforcement types while I'm here. Just for a little while, I wanted a life where my biggest worry is making sure my dog gets walked.

[ Derek dared to close the distance between them as he spoke. If it was goodbye, he wanted her to really see him first. All the scars on his body she might have thought were from football or DIY projects were something else. Yet, he'd done so much dodging that maybe she didn't give a rat's ass what his story was now. He waited for a response with a pleading gaze that she'd understand. ]

Then don't be. I'm not asking you to be that guy. I'm asking you to be honest. Don't assume you can make the decisions for me. Give me the information and let me deal with it like I'm capable of dealing with it.

[That's what's rubbing her raw here. He took the opportunity for her to make her own choice about how she felt about him. Not that she feels much more than anything a bit above fuck buddies right now, but Angela doesn't just sleep with anyone, contrary to popular belief. She only beds those she has a connection with, something she felt that night she met Derek even if Angela assumed it was a temporary on. It's in danger of being severed if he kept withholding the tiniest bit of information from her because of how he feels she should feel. Maybe he lied about the flipping houses, who knows. All Angela knows right now if that he took and didn't give anything back until it was too late because he thought he could speak for her.

She holds her hands up, palms forward, to stop him. For talking, not moving, actually. He's preaching to the choir and for a man who said he didn't want to spend the night talking about what they come across at their jobs, Derek's sure saying a lot about it.]

Stop. Don't say that like I don't know how it happens. I know far too much about that already.

[Angela doesn't and won't give him details. Kirk was someone so important to her that she lost far too soon to those monsters. So is Brennan, Hodgins, Booth, Cam, and even Zack. All of them were hit by those monsters some way or another and she doesn't feel like they are her stories to tell. Not to Derek. Not yet, anyway. Not until she feels sure enough that he's willing to give back what he's gotten from her.]

This needs to be give and take, not me giving you information about me and you avoiding my questions. Just tell me what you don't want to answer. I can take a no.

I didn't lie to you, Angie. --I'm not tryin' to justify, just clarify.

[ He put his own hand up, out to the side as if to ask she hear him out for that moment. ]

What I did tell you was real. I know I skirted a lot, thinking the subject was going to come full circle to being with the Bureau. But I didn't lie about what I shared.

[ His hand had fallen back to his side. Derek felt that they were still at an impasse. She had a right to stop wanting him in her life but he wanted to set the record straight. While he understood her point, he wasn't so sure she fully understood his. He sure as hell never meant for anyone to feel like his keeping the life he had before Eudio as some kind of affront to who they were as a person. ]

And how's that gonna work? --Telling you I don't wanna answer. I don't know any woman who's good with being shut down on conversation. How long before "I don't wanna talk about it" leaves you feeling the exact same way; one sided?

[ He learned that lesson at a young age, seeing his father die when they were just supposed to pick up milk from the store. His father died a hero to someone else. It took years for Morgan to realize he'd followed in his old man's footsteps. Maybe that was what kept him from genuine attempts at a relationship. Then again, seeing Hotch lose the mother of his child because of a psychopath from a case wasn't all that encouraging either. ]

I was wrong for making decisions for you--I get that. But if we're gonna be honest here, let's be honest. In one respect or another, everything I do comes back to being a Fed. Because that's the job.

[ There were times Derek felt cursed which stemmed all the way back to his childhood. More than the loss of his father, he was damaged goods thanks to a predator in his neighborhood. Being physically fit and working hard at everything was a way to fight that voice inside. Maybe he'd never have an inner peace but Morgan did everything in his power to bring some to others--be it volunteering as a big brother or flipping properties for lower income families. He tried giving others a chance that he didn't have.

Yet he didn't see that about himself. ]

Except here. The only expectation anyone has here is for a good time. And I just screwed that up.

[ His hands went out, exasperated. He folded his arms quickly over his chest. Frustration was heavy on his face but no longer was he asking forgiveness or making an apology. ]

It goes without saying that I don't want anyone knowing my job before coming here but I'll say it. Last thing I wanted to do was scare you. [ His face softened briefly. ] I'm sorry about that.

I'm not just any woman. You're really awful at reading people for a profiler.

[She runs a hand through her hair and sighs loudly, tension in her shoulders flowing out with the breath as she tips her head back to look up at the sky. For someone so damn hot, Derek is incredibly frustrating.

This is probably what other people feel like when dealing with Angela.]

Fine. You didn't lie, so let me rephrase that. All I ask if that people be straightforward with me. When I say I can take a no, I mean it. I can be an asshole, but not the kind of asshole who pushes when someone says they don't want to talk about something. Give me a little more credit here.

[Angela feels like there's so much more to Derek than he's actually telling her, but if he wants to play Secret Squirrel, then there isn't anything she can pump out of him before he's good and ready. That is a battle she's not willing to fight tonight. Instead, she looks back down at him and reaches out to rub his chest where she threw the helmet with a little more force than she intended.]

I didn't mean to hit you. I just got scared and panicked. [A crooked smile curls the corners of her mouth upwards.] And yeah, you screwed it up, but I left my purse at your place and you're my only ride back.

Edited 2015-10-03 05:42 (UTC)

I wasn't tryin' to profile you. Most people really hate that. I can, if you wanna remain off speaking terms.

[ Angela possibly touched a nerve by telling him he wasn't good at his job. He didn't scowl or sulk, speaking very matter of fact yet his words were evident he was on the defensive. His arms still crossed over his chest only emphasized a defensive posture. Yet that demeanor subdued when she asked for some credit. She hadn't been one to keep pushing or they wouldn't have continued to see each other. He hadn't just let anyone know where he lived. Maybe he had profiled a little to keep the clingy chicks at bay. ]

Alright. I've got no problem saying no or hearing it. Neither do you. I don't kiss and tell so no one's hearing from me who you are. I'd appreciate the same courtesy. Seems like we've got that all straight.

[ His arms finally unfolded when she approached, consciously aware of having had walled himself off and wanting to open up some at her approach. He held a soft smirk at her slight smile, taking the intiative of putting his hands on her familiar hips and closing the gap between them. ]

I'm a lot less scary than I look. Unless someone fucks with you in a way you don't want. Then you'll see scary when I kick their ass six ways from Sunday.

[For two people who are just fucking and not the least bit dating, they sure do make up pretty quick after an argument. Better for them because maybe she'll be in the mood when they get back to his house and give him what he tried to get earlier.

Angela rolls her eyes with a laugh as she leans into his touch, forgetting they were on an ice cream run for the moment.]

Oh, so what, you're my knight in shining motorcycle armor now? Hold on while I swoon.

Edited 2015-10-13 03:43 (UTC)

No need to be a smart ass. [ Said with a smile then a kiss to her forehead. Her body might have said one thing but what Angela said reminded Derek of the task at hand. He stepped away after the kiss and picked up each helmet, holding out the one she wore. ] You decide which way we head.

There's never a need to be a smart ass, but when have I ever let that stop me?

[Before he pulled away too far, she yanks him back by the lapels of his shirt and slams her lips right on his mouth in a quick but clearly hinting peck. If he's going to kiss her, he better do it right.]

You still owe me ice cream, but maybe we can pick up a few other things. I have something in mind, so the grocery store?

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