This is the final installment of The Chemicals Between Us. I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading! Also--don't know the ins and outs of gunshots, so I took the liberty of making Morgan's fit my storyline.

He used his good arm to first catch her, and then to embrace her. "Garcia," he said softly. "I am fine. The blood stain makes it look a lot worse than it actually is." He heard her sniffle and began to stroke her hair. "I promise," he continued.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Can we sit down?" he asked.

She pulled away and nodded, leading the way into her kitchen. She pulled out a chair for him and he sat down. She took the one across from him and studied his face looking for any sign that he might not in fact be fine.

"We went to a house to question a witness and it turned out he was the UnSub. He was caught off guard, drew his pistol, and I threw myself in front of JJ," he told her.

"Oh," she said softly.

"It didn't hit any major arteries. The exit wound was messy, so they had to stitch it up. Other than that, I'm fine," he told her again.

She nodded, sniffling once again, and stood up quickly. He was certain she was doing whatever she could to avoid his gaze now. She began to scurry about the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards. "Can I get you something?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he assured her.

"Coffee...maybe? Or liquor? Hard liquor?" she said. She opened one of the cupboards and began searching.

Morgan got up from his spot at the table and walked up behind her. She froze when he slid an arm around her waist. "Garcia," he whispered in her ear. "It's still me."

"Hard liquor it is," she said triumphantly.

He chuckled as he gently spun her around. "Penelope," he said softly. He immediately captured her attention at the use of her first name. "I didn't come here to be taken care of," he told her. "I came here…to take care of you."

She shook her head, her eyes filling with more tears. "Not like this," she said.

"Oh, I think this is perfect," he said, his eyes dancing. "I have a feeling you'll be much more agreeable while I'm in this state than you would be if I was uninjured."

"Morgan…"

"You promised me a night with you, and that's what I want."

"But I don't want to hurt you," she said softly.

"Garcia," he said in a dangerously low tone. "You're killin' me in that robe."

She looked down at herself, and when she lifted her gaze to his, she frowned. "In this old thing?" She laughed. She'd had the damn thing for years and the color was faded and the material was threadbare. But it was comfy and she couldn't bear to part with it. And no one had seen her in it in years. "It's practically falling apart."

He looked into her eyes and nodded slowly. "Yep," he agreed. "I bet that thing's spent countless hours touching your skin."

Her eyes widened at his comment.

"And I bet the damn thing even smells like you when you're not wearing it." He leaned into her shoulder and took a deep breath. "Yep."

She looked him in the eye, and tilted her head to the side. He could see the indecision in her eyes, but couldn't make out the expression on her face—it was a cross between intense lust and adoration. And completely reciprocated.

"Garcia, you keep looking at me like that, and I'm gonna finish before I even get you started," he told her.

She laughed as she put her forehead down onto his shoulder. He had to force himself to stay still, to keep his hands at his side, his fists clenching and unclenching. He could feel the tension in the room, as if his very fate would be decided in the next few seconds. And the moment she lifted her eyes—he knew.

She smiled lightly at him. "My room is this way," she whispered, taking him by the hand. She led him from kitchen and up the stairs that were across her entryway. Her bedroom was the first door on the left and it had a neutral feel to it. Her walls were a beige color and her bed was an oak four poster. He'd never seen so many pillows on one bed before—they were all shades of blue and brown—complementing her comforter.

His eyes rose to hers as she smiled boldly at him and sat down on the edge of her bed. He returned her smile with one of his own—confident and self assured. He walked towards her and when he reached the bed, he stepped in between her legs and looked down into her eyes. She'd made it clear that this was a one time thing, and that was her call. But he was going to whatever he could to make it clear that if she wanted more than that, he was more than willing. That was his call. He reached down and cupped her cheek, lowering his face to hers. He kissed her on the lips and when she opened her mouth his tongue immediately swooped in to find hers. No pretenses, no banter—it was important to him that she know much he wanted her.

His kiss was sure and swift all at the same time, and she was giving it right back to him. He pulled his lips from hers and sighed in appreciation. "So much better than toothpaste," he told her.

She laughed as she used her knuckles to brace herself to move back onto the mattress. He lay down next to her and reached over, undoing the belt on her robe. He reached underneath and placed his hand at her bare waist, pulling her up onto her side so they were facing each other. He placed another soft kiss on her lips and then moved to her neck, kissing a path down her throat while his hand found her breast. He ran a thumb over her nipple and it hardened instantly. He pushed her robe back off her shoulder and kissed his way down to where his thumb had been. He heard her sharp intake of breath and couldn't help but grin. God, she was so soft. He concentrated his attention first on one breast, then the other before returning his mouth to hers. He tried gently pushing her onto her back, but she resisted. He looked up at her questioningly and she shook her head. "I don't want you to do too much," she said as she pushed him onto his back. She sat up and swung a leg over him so she was straddling him.

"Garcia, you surprise me to no end," he told her.

She winked at him as she began to work on the buttons of his shirt. He lifted his back off the mattress so she could help him off with it and her gaze narrowed. "They didn't give you a sling?" she asked accusingly. The thought hadn't occurred to her before.

"It's in the car," he admitted with a smirk.

"Morgan…" she said.

"Not the time, Garcia," he told her, taking his good arm and placing it behind his head as if he had all the time in the world. He looked up at her with what he knew was challenge, but she chose to ignore it, nodding instead as she tossed his shirt onto the floor.

She looked down at his chest and sighed. His abs were sculpted perfectly. "Oh, if I could clone you," she said longingly.

He grinned wickedly at her. "And just what would you do with two of me, Baby Girl?" he wanted to know.

She looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "The possibilities are endless." She returned her gaze to his and lifted an eyebrow. "What next?" she asked suggestively.

"Clothes," he told her.

"Clothes?" she repeated in confusion.

"There are too many of them," he clarified.

She laughed. "So there are. Let's start with you."

He nodded. "Let's," he agreed.

She undid the button on his pants, then his zipper. He lifted his hips and she pulled them down over his thighs. All she wanted was to see him, but she forced herself to concentrate on getting his pants off lest she forget them and take him while they were both half dressed. That just wouldn't do. Once they were off, she looked up and her breath caught in her throat. "You're going commando," she said, biting back a grin.

He nodded. "Yep."

"Naughty," she said. Now she was never going to be able to function at the office. Morgan went commando? She'd never be able to think of anything else while he was standing in front of her. Or behind her—or on the same planet as her. Yep, she was officially doomed. This wasn't going as planned at all. This was supposed to get him out of her system, but she wasn't so sure it was going to work out that way. A little taste and…she shuddered at the thought.

"Now you," he commanded in a firm tone breaking into her thoughts. Well, she wasn't about to stop now that they'd started. She'd have to deal with the ramifications later.

She nodded as she pulled the robe down off her shoulders. She was naked beneath, what with her hasty exit from the tub; and she heard Morgan's sharp intake of breath as it fell in a pool at her feet. "Gorgeous," he said softly as his eyes moved from head to toe. "Just as I suspected."

He winced as he sat up on the bed.

"Are you OK?" she asked as she made her way back to the bed.

"Just trying to get closer to you," he told her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her down onto the bed. She landed on her back, and he used his good arm to raise himself up.

"What are you doing?" she asked breathlessly.

"What kind of man would I be if I let you do all the work?" he asked huskily, looking down at her.

"Typical?" she said sweetly.

He laughed heartily. "Oh, Baby Girl, I am anything but," he said softly, his lips finding her neck once again.

"Yeah, I'm beginning to realize…Oh!" she said as she felt his teeth graze her earlobe.

He laughed. "Like that?" he asked, returning to the task at hand.

She laughed, too. "That obvious, huh?"

"Only to someone with my skill level," he said in a teasing tone.

And it was that that always made her feel at ease with him. He could make her laugh even in the most unexpected of situations.

He heard her sigh as his hand moved down between her breasts and over her stomach. He reached between her thighs, and he knew when he found what he was looking for, because he felt her body tighten in anticipation. He used his thumb to stroke her, quick and gentle all at once. "Derek," she said, her heels digging into the mattress.

Very rarely did Penelope Garcia use his first name. He wasn't sure exactly what was going on inside of him, but without even thinking, he stopped what he was doing and despite the pain in his shoulder, lifted both of his arms so his hands cupped her face. All he wanted was to be inside of her. She looked up at him questioningly and he leaned down, placing feather soft kisses on her eyelids, cheeks, and then kissing her soundly on the mouth. He reached down between her legs once more, slipping two fingers inside of her. She was hot and wet. And so ready for him. He positioned himself above her, but she put her hands on his shoulders.

"Wait," she said quickly.

"Penelope, I swear to God, if you back out now…"

She laughed. "Not on your life. But…I haven't done anything for you," she pointed out.

"Trust me, Garcia. You have done plenty for me."

"When?" she asked doubtfully.

"When you opened the front door," he told her as he pushed inside of her. She tightened her hold on his back, her fingernails digging into his skin as he began to move in and out of her, slowly at first, then he quickened his pace. "God, you're hot," he told her.

"Only for you," she said breathlessly, her shoulders coming up off the mattress. "Oh, Morgan…" she said longingly, her eyes closed.

Morgan wasn't sure how long he was gonna last. He hadn't had this problem in a long time, but then again, he'd never been in bed with Penelope Garcia. "Garcia, are you…"

"Any second now, cowboy." Her eyes opened and she couldn't help but notice the little droplets of sweat on his forehead. She was sure that under normal circumstances, Derek Morgan never broke out into a sweat. But these weren't normal circumstances. "Derek, if this is too much…"

"Oh, no, Baby Girl," he said, gritting his teeth. "Trust me—it's just right. I just…"

"Oh, Morgan," she half said, half moaned. "You…should…never stop."

He couldn't agree more, but he couldn't say the words out loud without losing control. "Oh, God, Penelope," he said instead.

She let go of his back and reached up to grab the pillows on either side of her head. He could see her teeth biting into her lower lip. "Just let it go, baby girl," he said. The sooner she did, the sooner he could. She lifted her hips again and again, meeting each of his thrusts with her own--he felt like he was going to explode. "Penelope—" he said again through gritted teeth. He wasn't sure he was going to be able to go on. She lifted her hips to meet his one last time, and then sighed as she sank back onto the mattress.

"I'm good," she said, gasping for breath.

"I guess the hell you are," he said with a groan as he collapsed on top of her, breathing raggedly. Another second and she wouldn't have been able to finish. He lay there for a minute before he started laughing. He couldn't help it—and he couldn't stop it.

"What are you laughing at?" she asked in amusement.

"I thought you were going to squeeze the stuffing right out of those pillows," he told her.

"I thought I was gonna squeeze the stuffing out of you. That's why I had to let go. I thought I was gonna draw blood!"

"I'm…pretty sure you did," he said.

"I did not!" she said, lifting her head up to look. "Oh, God. I did," she admitted. "And I can't even apologize for it because…I'm just not sorry."

"Well," he said, rolling over so he was lying beside her. "I am glad to hear that."

They lay there for a minute in silence before she rolled up onto her side and started absently stroking his chest. "You know what?"

"What?" he asked.

"I don't think this counted," she said, her eyes brightening.

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"I think this was just really long, really good…foreplay."

"I thought this was just a one time thing," he told her.

"Well, so did I. But with your physical impairment and all, I just don't think it's fair to judge you on that."

He cleared his throat, his eyes dancing. "Are you saying I wasn't good?" he asked with mock astonishment.

She laughed. "No. I'm just saying…I want to see your A game."

He laughed. "Oh, Garcia," he said, lifting a hand to her neck and pulling her face down to his. He kissed her soundly. "It could take me forever to recuperate."

"Well, I'll just have to settle for this...until then," she told him.

He shook his head at her logic. Derek Morgan never thought he'd be so glad to have been shot.