itinere | open | so I keep doin' my own thing; walkin' tall against the rain

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{criminal minds: derek morgan

open | so I keep doin' my own thing; walkin' tall against the rain

Derek had somehow gotten away with not getting sick more than a headache that was just getting worse and worse as time moves on. It was never so bad that he couldn't work though it though, not as bad as so many others in the city (knock on wood). So every morning he went into the rec center to put in a full day's work. Every evening he went to check on those people he knew here in Itinere who were sick. He took them food and medicine and whatever else they might need. And he tried not to get sicker himself.

At the rec center, throughout each day, Derek stayed busy. Some days he worked with the treadmills, weights and parallel bars. Some days he worked with the punching bag and settled in a training room to go through his judo moves. Some days he did laps in the pool. Some days he was out on the basketball courts shooting some hoops.

Every day, he helped out whoever came into the place. While people are sick, after people are feeling better. Derek is there.

When Derek isn't at the rec center he can be found around the City in various places. Sometimes he's at the market picking up odds and ends. Sometimes he's at the park walking or jogging on the trails with earbuds in his ears, music from his iPod blaring loudly in his ears. Sometimes he's driving down the streets and up into the twists and turns of the roads in the mountains on his bike from home, which had magically appeared recently. Sometimes he's stopping at the burger joint, because Derek has a hard time resisting a good burger now and then. But really, who doesn't?

ooc: Open catch all for Derek all the way into June. So even if you're sick, you can chat with him when you aren't sick anymore too.

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She is most definitely not the only one looking so good. Derek smells good too and that sex drive? The one which had lain dormant when she was so sick? It comes roaring back to life as she was in close proximity. "I'm feeling nearly a million times better," she tells him. "Due entirely, I am sure, to your exemplary nursing."

He laughs lightly and shakes his head even as he pulls away enough to brush some of her hair back and see the red dot on the side of her neck left by the hypospray. He has one too, less visible on his darker skin. His thumb brushes over the dot before he rests both hands on his hips.

"Pretty sure it was whatever magic they had in those hyposprays." His grin is just a little cocky, contrasted by the kindness in his eyes. "But I don't mind takin' a little credit."

Derek turns back into his office to grab a towel from the back of his desk chair so he can wipe the back of his neck, his head, his arms, trying to soak up whatever was left from his work out minutes before. It only just occurs to him that he had hugged her while he's still sweaty.

He gestures to the couch along one wall. "Wanna stay for a little while? You have time?" He asks.

Oh, hell. Venus had been hugged by men with bigger issues than a little bit of manly sweat. In fact, that just seemed to inspire a deeper reaction in Venus's very loins; she touched a hand to her throat, watching him move.

"As a matter of fact," she says, lifting the bag she's carrying. "I brought you lunch. Well, the fixin's for lunch."

Noticing the bag for the first time since she walks in, Derek can't help the way his grin turns into a more genuine sort of smile. It's probably the nicest thing anyone here has done for him. Isn't it strange how those small kindnesses can mean so much? Derek has spent weeks checking on her and taking care of her. But he expects nothing in return. This is just... a very sweet surprise.

He walks back over to her her takes her hand in his, leading her over to the couch. Since the whole sick thing, he's resigned himself to being her friend, and is honestly thankful for that much after what the roses had made him do. He still has those lingering complicated feelings that confuse everything. But he's pushed them to the back burner in light of keeping her friendship and not pushing her in any way toward something with him when he knows he comes with complications.

They sit and he holds her hand a moment more before letting go. "You know you didn't have to. But I'm glad you did." He doesn't want her to think he expects anything. But her being here and well, it has him feeling... those complicated things he's trying not to think about.

What she feels for him is perhaps a good deal less complicated in a way. She's so very attracted to him (anyone who's seen him would have to agree to this) and now that she's had a chance to really get to know him, the internals seem to match the externals. It's more what she expects: for him to come to his senses and scoff at her.

"It was the least I could after you were so very kind to my very sick self," she tells him as she opens the bag, pulling out cheese and cold cuts and those delicious pretzel rolls, as well as tiny jars of mayonnaise and mustard and some chips, even. "It gave me, as well, an excuse to come see you," she confesses with a crooked smile.

It has been awhile since Derek came to his senses. He is completely in his senses. The problem is that his senses are a flip-flopping back and forth between what's right and wrong for Venus, what he should do and shouldn't do with Venus. Venus is unlike anyone he's ever wanted to be with. He's normally so confident, or at least he pretends to be confident. He's kind of flailing for what to do here.

"Gotta take care of my girl, right?" He says, trying to grasp at some of his usual direction and confidence. "And I'm glad you're here."

As she starts to take things out of the bag, he smiles again. She brought him the fixings for sandwiches. Such a simple thing but it makes his chest feel tight with something he won't put a name to. This small act just made his entire day and he's not even sure if she realizes that. "You're gonna stay and eat with me, right?"

"If you wouldn't mind the company, I suppose I could," she tells him, watching him with an expression that isn't nearly as masked as it should be: a mixture of hope and trepidation. My girl.

She hasn't been anyone's girl for a long time, really, not even Alexander's, not really. Is that what this is, then? And what, then, does that mean? (She is, after all, still a practictioner of the world's oldest profession - or will be again now that she's well).

Drawing out some napkins, she can then collapse the bag, folding it as to give herself something to do with her hands.

"Are you kidding? Best company I've had all day." She's healthy. She came to see him. What that meant, he didn't know. But he never would have expected it after the roses. Yes, he had taken care of her while she had been sick, but in some ways he had kind of forced that whether it had been wanted or needed or not. His way of being around her, of trying to make up for how dark and messed up he had become over her, an attempt to sort out whatever was going on in his mind in regard to her.

Derek watches her quietly for a moment, the way she looks at him and the way she obviously tries to keep her hands busy. He's well schooled at reading people. It's what he used to do for a living, after all. He reaches out for her hands to hold them steady. He doesn't hold them tight though, in case she wants to pull away.

"Hey..." He says softly. "Tell me what you're thinkin'. Maybe we can get whatever worry I see in those eyes out of the way."

"Oh." Venus ducks her head, letting her hair curtain her face. "It seems no matter how far I come from home, I cannot escape certain insecurities." She takes a deep breath and goes on, her hands grasping his, a small crumbling smile playing over her face as she speaks. "Like the dark internal voice that tells me that you will eventually realize that you no longer wish to dance on this side of the freak line and send me on my merry way. This is not an indictment of you, Derek; please don't take offense."

As she ducks her head so does he just a bit, just enough to still see her through those long locks shading her face. A lot of the way Derek understands people is visual so he tries to keep that at all times unless he fully trusts someone enough to let go of the comfort of it.

It's brave of her, he thinks, to put a voice to those insecurities. Derek isn't sure he could do it with his own thoughts so eloquently as she does. In fact, even now he knows he needs to put a voice to his own thoughts to help steady hers and he has trouble with it. Normally he would come up with some quippy, flirty reply to cover up his confusions. Something tells him not to do that now.

"No offense." He shakes his head. "I don't wanna send you away." Derek needs to say that first and foremost so that she knows he isn't looking to push her away.

"I've just... never been with anyone like you before. So maybe... maybe I'm feeling my way as I go. And maybe I'm not always sure of what to do. Maybe..." He pauses. "Maybe sometimes I need a little guidance that I wouldn't normally need and that's throwing me off my game." He gives her a small grin.

"And then... there's the whole thing that maybe I'm not what you want." He says. And here's the truth that he pushes out there before he can stop himself. "I still feel things. Whatever those roses did, it felt real to me. And I still feel things. For you. What that means, I have no idea."

After a small pause filled with thoughts, Venus smiled again, that little bittersweet curl of the corner of her mouth. "Well, aren't we a pair?" she asks. "We seem to be spending a good deal of time trying to figure out what the other wants. Perhaps we will be well-served to think of what we want, after all."

But. "After lunch, though. Let's get you fed, first."

He feels things for her? Well; there's a warmth to her chest at that, one she touches with her fingertips. "Shall I make you a sandwich, Derek?"

He's relieved that she takes his honesty so well. Because after everything, she might have turned tail to run knowing that he still felt things for her after how dark it had gotten only a month ago. Maybe she understood who he was a little more after they had spent so much time together while she was sick. Maybe he had atoned for however he had scared her.

Letting go of her hands, Derek leans back against the couch cushions at the back. That flirtatious grin is back in place. Flirting is comfortable for him. There's no confusion for him in flirting. "You mean I get to watch you make me a sandwich? Not sure there's anything sexier."

That makes Venus laugh aloud, honestly and happily. "Now, darlin'. That is a kink I have yet to come across. If you find that me makin' you a sandwich does it for you? Well, this is your lucky day."

She scoots forward on the sofa and pulls out a bun and starts to make Derek a sandwich. Perhaps if it were put in slow-motion, there might be something sensual about it, but really, it's about meat and cheese and bread with some condiments in there. Then there is a sandwich offered up with a wry, amused and in turns warm smile. "And how are you feelin' now, handsome?"

"Maybe everything with you is a kink." He tosses back at her. And while he's still flirting, those words are turning out to be true. Being around Venus, even when she was sick, makes him feel good. Confused and uncertain, but still good. Does it make him gay to still be attracted to her even after the roses? No. Open minded, maybe. And he can't ignore what he feels, what he told her he feels.

While she's making the sandwich, his hand reaches out to scritch at the small of her back over her spine. It's just a little touch, testing the waters, seeing if and how she reacts.

When she passes the sandwich back to him, he pulls his hand away and takes it. How is he feeling? "Hungry." Which was an all encompassing sort of answer. Hungry in more ways than one. "Now you. We've gotta feed you too."

That hunger seems to be shared. Just that little bit of a touch against her back, through that thin fabric, made Venus feel as if her very skin is too tight. She takes what she hopes are deep, calming breath, but if everything with her is a kink, she can't help thinking they could be having a good time.

"You eat," she tells him, her voice a little lower. "I'll get mine."

"Yes ma'am." He says with a grin.

It's hard for Derek not to still try to take care of her. He's used to caring for other people. And he's grown accustomed to caring for Venus over the last few weeks... it had felt good to have someone to care for. So while he takes a bite of the sandwich, it's slow so he can wait to make sure she gets hers too.

Her sandwich isn't as big as Derek's, but she does have to watch her figure, after all. But when her sandwich is ready, she turns, just a little, so that her knee brushes his and she proceeds to eat, too, her eyes flicking to his face.

She too is used to caring for others (in various ways, they shall say, but still). It seems that really, they have a great deal in common.

Now that she's eating too, he makes quick work of his sandwich. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until now. He hadn't even realized it was lunchtime. Sometimes Derek pushed himself to the point that he forgot things like that, especially when he had a lot on his mind.

He finished his sandwich, picking up a bottle of water from he low table in front of the couch and washing it down. His gaze rarely strayed from Venus. His knee occasionally bounced against hers, a light, playful touch.

"I probably wouldn't have gotten around to eating until way later without you lookin' out for me." He says. "Someday I'll have to make you one of my famous grilled cheese sandwiches. And by famous, I mean my sisters always wanted me to make them when we were little. Secret ingredient: love."

"Is that so?" she asks, her expression still both fond and amused. "I will have to take you up on that, because a good grilled cheese is a hard thing to pass up."

She brushes any crumbs from her lap and belatedly opens the bag of chips, holding the bag out for him to take some. "I'm glad I could be of a kind of service, after all."

"You haven't lived 'til you've tried my cooking." Yes, he just called grilled cheese sandwiches 'cooking'. And he realizes how ludicrous that is as is evident by the grin on his lips and the way his brows lift with amusement.

Derek reaches out for a few chips from the bag, murmuring quietly before he pops a few into his mouth. "Good thing I work out." Almost obsessively. Of course now she knows why he works out so hard. Putting out an image of strength to the masses is important to him. Not looking weak, not even a little.

"I won't mention the time I burned the turkey on Thanksgiving." He adds, just to get another smile out of her.

Strength comes in all forms, doesn't it? They both know that, and how important it is to appear strong.

To appear impervious.

"I would imagine that turkey was just asking to be burned is all," she tells him with a wry smile. "But any time you want to cook for me, darlin', you just let me know. I will happily eat whatever you make."

There might have been just a little bit of innuendo in that statement, for the record.

His head cants back with his laughter at her blaming the turkey for his mistakes. "I saved Thanksgiving by grilling some hot dogs and burgers. So we had all the usual fixings; dressing, green bean casserole, potatoes... but with dogs and burgers. And I haven't been in charge of the turkey since."

To be fair, he doesn't go home for Thanksgiving all that often. Home has a lot of bad memories that he sometimes can't get past.

At that unmistakable innuendo, he looks back to her with his eyes glittering with amusement. He tentatively reaches out for her hand, strong fingers curling around hers... testing the waters.

"What if I want a kiss for dessert?" He asks. "Can I get one of those?"

"I imagine cranberry relish might really have spiced up those hot dogs," she teases, then addresses his question - the more important question: "that can be arranged," she says, just as lightly, grasping his hand, letting them rest on her knee. Oh, yes, please. "Perhaps, if you ask real nicely, too, you can get two."

He wants to kiss her, then. Something so simple - it makes her chest tight.

She takes his hands this time and Derek looks down to where their joined hands rest on her knee. His darker skin against her light. Her hands aren't small and dainty like he's used to. They're uniquely Venus as far as he's concerned. Unlike any hands he's held like this before.

His brown eyes look back up to her, dark and sensual, and a corner of his lips pulls upward as he leans in just a bit, almost seductive in his movements. "Please, baby." The minute he says the word 'please', his entire self roils with an unexplained desire. "I want your lips. Two kisses."

There is something of heaven on earth in the way he says things like that. Even under the influence of the roses, his voice - and the actions that followed, of course - did things to Venus.

Her eyes almost cross following the way he leans in, but just before their lips meet, Venus closes her eyes.

Two kisses. When does one end and the other begin, though? It's such sweetness. Her hands tighten in his and she leans closer still.

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