She had shown up at his apartment two nights after JJ and Will had gotten married, looking for all the world like a lost little girl. Which made no sense, given that she had a good five years on him, give or take. But she was crying piteously, and he could never let a woman cry in front of him without offering her comfort. Wordlessly, he opened his arms, and she stepped into them, letting him hug her senseless. "I thought you were spending a few days with Rossi," he murmured in her ear as he led her into his living room.

"So did I," Strauss whispered brokenly, before her tears obscured her words once more. Somehow, he got them to sit down on the couch, and she curled up into him. "I knew that you wouldn't turn me away. Despite how much you hate me, I knew."

"I don't hate you, darlin'," he drawled lowly, and she laughed mirthlessly. "What? I don't. You amaze me, frustrate me, upset me, sure. But hate? Never." He was surprised when she nuzzled her face into his chest and then he was stroking her hair lightly, comforting her like he would Penelope, if she had come to him crying in the middle of the night.

"I want a glass of wine so badly right now."

Her frank statement caught him off-guard. Derek knew about her fight with alcohol, had been the one to pack her off to rehab, but somehow he had pushed the fact that it would be a constant fight for her to the back of his mind. "Is that why you came to me?"
She nodded. "I also knew that you wouldn't let me slip. Somehow, I just knew." Strauss gave in to her tears once more, and he felt them wet his chest, finally soaking through his shirt. Wordlessly, he ran his hand down from her hair to her back, rubbing in gentle circles.

"Do you want to talk about why you're craving?"

She shrugged before burrowing in closer to him. "I was stupid and thought a weekend fling was the promise of something more. I wanted it to be something more. He didn't. I went to surprise him tonight, and he surprised me by having that young snip of a girl – Alison?"
He knew she was talking about Seaver, and he sighed deeply. "Ashley."

"Ah, yes, Ashley. Anyway, she was fucking him, riding him like her life depended on. And then he caught my eye and winked before motioning me to join them. In that first moment, I wanted to claw both their fucking eyes out. And then, the cravings hit, so I came here."

He was a bit shocked at her vulgar language, but then he smiled. Typical Strauss, wanting to lash out at those who had hurt her, and yet, in that case, she was more than in the right. "I would have at least slapped him."

"What would the point of that have been? It's not like we were exclusive. We just spent two days in a hotel room screwing like rabbits in between his silly cigar panels." She hiccupped loudly, and then moved so that her head rested over his heart. "Alan left me, you know. Couldn't handle my trip to rehab. The kids went with him, couldn't wait to be rid of their bitch of a mother. And then, for one brief, shining, moment, I thought I had an opportunity to move on, to become something more. I guess I wasn't meant for that."

"Oh, Erin," he breathed out, feeling his heart break for her in that moment. "Someday, you're going to find that one who loves you and won't desert you. I promise."

"You shouldn't make promises you have no way of keeping, Derek," she said softly, tightening her grip on his shirt as she drew in a deep, shaky, breath. "I'll be fifty in September, after all. Bitter, past my prime, so moody that no one would want me. I just have to get used to that."

Once more, her words tore at his heart, and he wished that he could make her see that they were the furthest thing from the truth. "No, you don't." She just shrugged against his chest, and he tightened his arms around her, wanting to comfort her in his own small way. "You, like everyone else, was made to find that special one, just for you. Momma always told me that, to keep searching until you find that special one."

"And you've found yours in Penelope Garcia," she said wistfully. "The two of you really do make a handsome couple."

"And we're the best of friends, nothing more."

"Oh." Her voice was small, and then she nuzzled her face into his chest once more, yawning widely. "I guess I'm a little tired. I should probably go now, the craving has passed."

He shook his head. "No, you'd better stay the night. After the crying jag you just had, I wouldn't trust you on the road." She began to protest, but he pressed a single finger against her lips, stilling her words. "You take my bed, I'll sleep here on the sofa."

Finally, she nodded her assent, pressing her lips against his finger. Derek was certain it was a purely involuntary reaction, but it still caused desire to pool in his groin. Erin had to have noticed, since she sat up a little, pulling away from him. "I'll have to borrow one of your t-shirts, then. I cannot sleep in my clothes, since I have to drive home in the morning."

"Of course, Erin. Just follow me, then." He gently helped her to stand, and she wobbled a bit before gaining her balance, resting her hand on his arm. It burned, literally burned, where she touched him, and he wondered what sort of sorceress she was to weave a spell around him so quickly. And then she was looking up at him, her lashes spiky from her tears, her eyes darkened to a deep sapphire, and he felt his breath sucked from his lungs. "Beautiful," he murmured, and she blushed, not looking away from him, even as he lowered his lips to cover hers.

It was a soft kiss, and he loved the feel of her thin lips touching his. She groaned slightly, returning the kiss before pulling away from him. "Your bedroom, please. I'm rather tired." She was blushing even redder, and he knew the request was not for him to join her. Rather, she was ready to sleep, to block out what had happened to her that night.

"Whatever my princess wants," he replied, clasping her hand as he began to lead her to his room. She shook her head, reaching over to smack his arm lightly at his teasing tone. He loved the fact that she reacted just like his Baby Girl would have and he tightened his hand around hers. "All right, fine, my queen."

"Quit teasing, Agent Morgan."

"I like it better when you call me Derek. It sounds better rolling off your tongue than Agent Morgan." She sighed a little, finally nodding as he turned them into his bedroom. "Take a seat on the bed while I pull out something for you to wear."

"All right." She sank down, hugging her knees close to her chest, watching him intently as he dug through his drawers to find a shirt for her. It was a cool night for May, so he pulled out a long sleeved FBI shirt, one he usually used for going on runs with Clooney in the fall. He also took out a pair of pajama pants, hoping she could pull the drawstring tight enough to hold them up. "Thank you," she murmured absently, taking the clothes from his hands.

"You are more than welcome," he replied, bending down to kiss the top of her head. She let out another heart wrenching sigh, and he knelt to enfold her in a tight hug. He knew that was the best thing to help a broken heart, having held Penelope the night after she had broken things off with Kevin. Slowly, she released her legs and embraced him back, breathing in deeply. "Sleep tight, pretty lady."

"I'll try." She let go of him and stood up, her fingers fiddling with the top button on her blouse. "Thank you for taking me in tonight," she said as she slipped that first button from its hole. Morgan nodded once more before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

Clooney whined at him, going to the closed bedroom door and scratching a little. "Sorry, not tonight, boy. She needs her privacy, so it's the couch for both of us," he said as he rubbed the top of his dog's head.

The bedroom door cracked open a little, and she peeked out. "Uh, Derek, does Penelope keep…"

"The bottom left-hand drawer in the bathroom," he answered, hoping she wasn't half as embarrassed as he felt. He heard her scurry across the hall into the bathroom and settled on the couch, stretching out and trying to get comfortable. He had just about fallen asleep when he felt someone drape a blanket over him, making certain he was covered up.

Soft lips pressed against his forehead. "Sleep well, Derek," were the last words he heard before sleep overtook him.