It's not often that Penelope Garcia joins the team on the jet, but this case needed all hands on deck, and that means her and her rather large suitcase were going wheels up. Matt had begun the offer of carrying her bag, his sentence cutting short at the arrival of Luke, who silently reached down and lifted the suitcase as if it were filled with air...not seven outfits, matching shoes, accessories, and all of her makeup. All. Of. It. She pauses as the man jerks his head in the direction of the plane and watches him as he moves across the tarmac.

It is, also, not often that Penelope Garcia is afraid to be alone during storms, considering that she's been on her own for decades now, and has learned to deal with the anxiety of the rolling thunder and bright sparks of lightning. It's not that she doesn't understand exactly how a storm is made, she had researched it extensively on the internet several years ago, but it's the unfamiliar surroundings that she seems to have found herself in.

Usually in times like these Penelope Garcia would find herself running to Derek, seeking solace in his warm embrace. But that wasn't a viable option any longer, considering that they were currently miles apart from each other...and she doubted Savannah would have liked to come home to her husband clutching onto another woman. Realizing, as the thunder gets worse around her, she grabs her phone and sends out the first distress signal to JJ, waiting minutes until she doesn't get a response. Penelope sends out the second text to Emily, who tells her to go to sleep because they have a long day tomorrow, using fewer words and more colorful language. The technical analyst reaches out to Spencer next, and then Matt, also Tara, and even Rossi before her thumb hovers over his name. She heaves a heavy sigh and lets her thumbs tap out a text message to the Hispanic man housed a few rooms down. Telling herself, that in no uncertain terms, to misinterpret the fluttering in her stomach for anything other than guilt. The feeling rushing into her bones at the realization that Luke was a literal last resort for her irrational fear, she clutches her phone as she presses herself against wall furthest from the window.

She doesn't move from the position against the wall, pulling her pink bathrobe tighter around her body as another boisterous explosion of thunder sounds around her. She lets out a yell, and then a moan, almost missing the knock at her hotel door. The sound startling her so much that she jumps and bangs her shoulder on the dresser she was leaning next to. Penelope answers the door while rubbing her shoulder peeling the pink robe off of her body in order to gain access to the bare expanse of skin, her body tensing as another clap of thunder echoes around the hotel room.

She expects room service though she didn't order anything, she expects housekeeping though it's the middle of the night, she expects Derek though he's states away. What Penelope doesn't expect is for him to be standing in her doorway, all broad-shouldered and muscled arms and a wide grin that covers his entire handsome face, holding out a carton of ice cream and two spoons in greeting. She certainly doesn't expect to see him dressed in sweatpants and a gray army T-shirt, clinging to each and every muscle she had never taken the opportunity to appreciate before.

Luke doesn't say anything as he walks past her into the room, dropping his service weapon, room key, and wallet onto the dresser before settling himself on the mattress with the same lopsided grin. Penelope stares after him with her mouth open, watching as he waves the second spoon in her direction, his eyebrows shooting up in a nonverbal question. She notices that the agent doesn't look uncomfortable, he doesn't look unnerved, he doesn't even look perturbed to have to be babysitting her, so to speak, as he reaches out to grasp the remote. Removing the lid to the ice cream and tossing it onto the nightstand in its place.

Bewildered doesn't begin to explain her expression as she closes the door behind him and cinches her robe tighter around her body. Penelope remains silent as she approaches the bed and carefully climbs onto the surface, settling herself against the headboard causing it to rock and collide with the wall behind the bed. A particularly loud clap of thunder causes the woman to shriek and bury her face in her hands, banging her shoulder against the headboard and causing the wood to slam into the wall, for the second time that night. If her mind wasn't utterly terrified at the thought of the storm overhead, she would be utterly embarrassed at the blatant lack of coordination she was showing the man.

"Come here," He says, chuckling as Penelope continues to tremble beside him in the bed, reaching out to wrap her under his left arm. She jumps when his arm slides around her, causing her to jump and slam back into the headboard, again. Penelope slides against him with her feet tucked under her, allowing herself to be clutched into his chest as yet another particularly violent wave of thunder rolls around. Penelope is sure that she could feel the building shake, or was that the rumble of laughter in his chest? Maybe she wasn't entirely sure the woman thinks to herself as she curls her fingers into the material of his shirt, with a very loud groan.

"Hold this," Luke commands, placing the ice cream in her lap and digging in with his spoon, using her thighs in order to steady the treat. Penelope remains under the protective cover of her left hand until the thunder dissipates around them, lowering her fingers once she's sure it's safe, if only for a while.

"You didn't have to come..." Penelope says reaching into the carton with her own spoon, wondering exactly how he knew her favorite flavor, and where he had gotten it at two in the morning. Realizing at the last second that she was going to let it slip that he was the last person she called, she decides to shove another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, emitting a barely audible groan of satisfaction as the frozen treat melts against her tongue.

"I'm a light sleeper," he replies as he continues filtering through the channels, settling on an episode of Golden Girls before turning back to the carton of ice cream. "All that time in Afghanistan, and growing up in the city." He says by way of explanation, scooping ice cream out of the now dripping carton with a smile. Penelope relaxes against his chest, uncurling her legs and wiggling her toes under the soft white sheets with an almost childish glee, breathing easier during the calm.

"I've always hated storms," she whispers as Blanche continues talking on the screen. Penelope concentrates on swirling her spoon around in the ice cream, creating soup and letting the chocolate chips swirl in the mess. "Ever since I was a kid, you know, it was always a burden to my brothers because I would try to crawl into bed with them. The older we got the more they started locking their doors, and I had to learn to work through it on my own." Penelope drops the spoon against the side of the cardboard, leaning over the man to place it on the nightstand before curling herself back into his side.

"You didn't have to come, but I'll never forget that you did." She tells him blinking rapidly as a streak of lightning illuminates the room, the responding thunder sounding far off now, she notes with relief. With the added light she can see his eyes trained on her face and boldly makes a decision to lean up and press her lips to his cheek, catching the corner of his mouth in the process. She closes her eyes as the sound of the headboard connecting with the wall reverberates around the room again, and she's not sure if the thunder is worse than the constant pounding.

"I should probably get going..." Luke replies, his arm stiffening around her shoulder as she presses another kiss to his cheek. He's not sure what possessed him to, but he reaches out to press his palm against the side of her face as she presses another kiss to his jaw, holding her face to his and exhaling heavily. Penelope is sure that she's imagining the trembling she can feel against her cheek, sure that it's from her body and not his.

"Stay," she mumbles into his beard, her eyes fluttering closed as she sinks back into the pillows and slides her arm around his waist, pulling herself closer to him. Luke nods his hair flopping over into his face now that it was devoid of gel. He finds that words escape him as he leans back, the motion knocking the headboard back into the wall for a final time that night, much to the annoyance of the person occupying the adjoining room.

When they awake several hours later it is to a persistent knocking on the door to the hotel room, and the repeated shouts from the person on the other side of the door. Penelope nuzzles her face into the warm chest it was resting on and closes her eyes, begging the person dragging her from slumber for another five minutes, at least. She feels the other occupant of the bed disentangle himself from the sheets and her in order to make his way over to the entrance and yanking the door open. His face a perfect picture of annoyance at the early morning hour.

"Garcia, we need you to be ready to run..." Prentiss trails off as she looks up from her phone to the man standing before her, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Her eyes dart back and forth between the man and the number on the door, confusion laced in her features as she takes a step back from the doorway and walks down two doors and proceeds to knock.

"That's my room," Luke announces as he watches her reach up to knock on the door again, her shoulders stiffening as she turns back to one of her agents and stops in front of him.

"So, Garcia is in there...with you?" She asks, her fingers typing quickly on her phone and he groans when he hears another door opening in the hallway.

"Technically I'm in here with her," Luke answers, rolling his eyes as JJ appears in the hallway, knocking on two other doors on her way down the hall. She snakes her head around the doorjamb, taking in the appearance of the tangle of blonde hair sprawled out on the sheets of the hotel bed he had just vacated.

"Luke, come back to bed." Penelope groans as she sits up, the sheets pooling in her lap. Smirking he looks over at her, the pink bathrobe had come completely undone during the course of the night, showcasing the blue tank top she wore under the silky material. When the woman opens her eyes she can see the majority of the team staring at her with wide eyes. Her face flushes, a heat creeping into her cheeks as she lets out a loud groan.

"So this is what all the banging against the wall was last night?" Rossi says, announcing his presence at the doorway, he continues with a smile: "It's about damn time."

Penelope decides that nothing, nothing, could ever be as embarrassing as this moment as she flops back onto the bed, the headboard banging against the wall as she whispers that nothing happened between them, her remarks falling on deaf ears. "Can we be professionals about this?" she asks as she pulls the blankets up over her face.

"Yeah, because Garcia likes to keep it low profile around here," Luke teases as he walks back to the bed in order to pull the sheets off of the blonde woman, because if he can't be in bed neither can she. "Your five minutes are up."