Criminal Minds Imagines

time to go - derek morgan

You watched as each of your friends slowly trickled out of the bullpen, each saying their goodnights as they waved and hauled themselves out into the weekend.

You wished you could do the same, and, technically, you could've. Emily or Penelope would have given you a ride in a heartbeat. But your fiancé was still sat at his desk, hovering over his paperwork as if he were a preacher studying the Bible, and you refused to go back to your shared apartment alone.

You huffed, perching yourself on the edge of the wood surface, precariously close to where the thick manila file lay open in front of him. If he noticed your sudden close proximity, he made no move to show it.

You let out another, deliberately long, sigh, picking at your nails as you tried in vain to discreetly get his attention. You also made a mental note to treat yourself this weekend and go get your nails done. Your cuticles needed serious work.

Derek glanced up for a moment. Your efforts succeeded.

"Can I help you, babygirl?"

"It's almost nine-thirty," you groaned, "and it's the only weekend we've had off in months. Why aren't we running out of here like bandits?"

He glanced down at his watch, seeing that it was, indeed, much later than he thought it was. He leaned back in his chair with a groan and a stretch.

His eyes met yours apologetically, his hand reaching over to rub your thigh, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was so late. I just need to finish my notes on this file and then we'll be home free."

You made a noise that sounded more tired than annoyed as he returned to his work. The warmth of his hand leaving your skin made you frown.

You considered seducing him into leaving, but you knew you were both far too exhausted from the last case to hit the sheets in any way other than to sleep tonight.

Using your sleepy state to your advantage, you decided you could always try the pity route.

You yawned loudly, leaning your head to the side with droopy eyes.

He continued scribbling down notes as he spoke, "I know angel, I'm tired too."

You hopped down off the edge and moved to his side, leaning in to rub at his shoulders. He let out a deep breath, trying not to give up and lean in to your touch. You pressed your lips to the side of his head, moving to ease the knots out of his shoulder blades.

You rested your forehead against his temple as you murmured, "So sleepy."

He turned his chair towards you, causing your hands to drop from his shoulders. He took them in his own, his large, calloused hands engulfing yours.

He looked at you pleadingly, "Y/N, you know I want nothing more than to go home and curl up in our bed with you, but Hotch needed this file on his desk thirty minutes ago. Please, just give me ten and then we'll go, I promise."

Your face slipped into a pout, and you hated to act so childish, but the longer the night stretched, the harder the exhaustion hit you. You had only slept a good two hours on the jet last night and combined with the only light left in the bullpen being the little desk lamps, you were ready to lay down on the floor.

Derek pulled you in so you were standing in between his legs, moving his hands to draw soothing circles on your hips, "Can you hold out for me for just a little longer?"

"Fixin' to sleep on the floor," you mumbled with as much of a giggle as you could muster.

His lips turned up into a smile and you knew he had an idea, "C'mere."