Being Derek Morgan's girlfriend was amazing. He was the most caring, sweet, protective, doting, funny, and flirtatious partner you'd ever had. When you met Derek, you were working as a medic for the BAU. You were there for emergency situations and usually followed the teams on cases, being there to fall back on when emergency personnel couldn't get there fast enough. You'd tended to all of their injuries, most notably Spencer Reid's. And usually, you never had to tend to Derek's.

It hadn't taken but a year for you to move in together and two years to get engaged. You both knew without a doubt that you were meant to be together. Your lives together were blissful.

Today was your day off. You sat in yours and Derek's apartment, eating popcorn and watching chick flicks. It was your first day of relaxation in over a week of overtime working. You were freshly showered, in your pajamas, and about to doze off, when you heard keys jingling at the front door. You immediately sobered up from drowsiness, smiling brightly when you realized it meant that Derek was finally home.

When he came in, your smile immediately became a frown. He was covered in blood; he had a busted lip, bruised face, cuts on his hands and arms that had gone untreated. It had definitely been a rough case. You sighed, getting up from the couch. You knew that without you being the one to force him, he wouldn't accept a medic's attention. He was stubborn like that.

Placing your hands on your hips, you gave him a look. He smiled sheepishly; the smile mixed with a pained grimace.

"Hey, princess. How was your day off?" He asked, trying to draw your attention away from his injuries.