034, on kiss cam at a sports game. @idi0tproverbs
see, that's why she doesn't do sport games. between the wailing, the sweating, the spilled beer & various other niceties she isn't willing to put a name to? yeah. there's not much to enjoy. perhaps it's her fault for not getting into the spirit, but she simply does not get it. even intellectually : why would you dress up in a horrid little outfit that doesn't fit nor is remotely weather appropriate (it's too goddamn hot for cotton), in order to support grown-up men running furiously after a ball? she isn't against supporting gay rights (see that? it's a small bisexual brooch, thank you very much), mind you, but she didn't imagine that a date with the famous, sexy chocolate thunder would be so β¦ well. manly, she supposes. okay, fine, she knows derek fits the straight dude bro profile most of the time. okay! she still expected something different. something a little bit less crowded. something a little bit less alpha male takes his trophee of the night on a date he would have gone alone to anyway.
she still tries though. she does! look at her clapping when everyone does, and yes maybe she spends most of the actual match watching the smile on derek's face, but whatever. do not let it be said that penelope garcia is not supportive! she is. she screams when something important happens (whatever that might be. she takes her clues from the lady sitting two rows from them). she even has the foam finger thingy and she waves it every five minutes, mumbling something that she isn't sure is a word, because she might or might have not forgotten the team's name before even eventering the stadium. sue her! try enjoying a football match in that weather while wearing heels. you'll see how it feels.
needless to say that it takes her a few seconds to register why everyone is suddenly going bananas around them.
she turns her head toward morgan, however her best friend is already looking at her, as if β¦ waiting, expectantly. yeah, she isn't going to tell him she has no idea what's going on because she was too focused on complaining silently. she doesn't want to crush his dreams, and she certainly doesn't want to ruin this β¦ date, rendez-vous, whatever you want to call it. whether it's romantic or just kinky is not yet decided (that too, she did not find the courage to ask). she's a big girl. she'll figure it out: ever the profiling trainee, she searches for clues. the giant screen with a heart & gifs of rather kitsch kissing red lips are as good as any. glasses are pushed back over her nose in a nervous habit, just to make sure she isn't dreaming.
so first derek takes her to a game of sweaty men and then, he expects her to? what?
"KISS HIM!!!!!!" comes the scream from the stale-beer-old-sweat-smelling man on her right. thank you very much, disgusting guy. she even says as much, under her breath, before turning toward morgan, who is now full on grinning. yeah, he's enjoying it alright. it's enough to have her smiling back. how absurdly difficult not to fold when he looks so beautiful.
well, if they want a show, she'll make a good one. she usually prefers to be behind the screens rather than on them, but it's for a good cause (swiping that grin off his face. with her lips. yes. don't question the method), well, she's willing to do it.
both of her hands hold his face steady. with her game-on face (which is quite similar to the one she usually plasters at the end of their meetings, when she has finally gotten her hands on the one piece of information they needed to crack the code of who did what when and why), she leans forward, just enough to watch his pupils dilate. if she's afraid of being on stage, it's easy to forget with him so close. he's the only one not smelling completely rotten. sure, there's a bit of sweat, but it's good, like he worked out a little too much and he's about to jump in the shower, excepthe's a gentleman, yes, so he'll invite you in to save water. or something like that. anyway. enough thinking of wet, gloriously naked derek morgan, asking her to "come in the shower, mamma". back to reality : he's tall, but he follows her hands easily, leaning forward just enough that she can kiss him square on the lips. there's immediately a bit of tongue. some lip biting. definitely his name spoken against his mouth in a hot murmur.
after all, she might not have come for the game, but she did come for him (and she'd be willing to really come, if he was so inclined), and it's important to remind him of that so that he doesn't loose sight of the actual, very important endgame. which is her. obviously.
