Penelope sighed as she looked over at Chief Strauss's office. Ever since her breakup with Rossi, the woman had become impossible again, angry and bitter in every dealing she had with them. Though she had tried her hardest to be nice, Penelope had found the woman's behavior so off-putting that she was regretting even trying. Which hurt her heart, a lot more than she cared to admit. Sighing once more, she pushed the down button and waited for the elevator to appear.
Hearing a noise from behind her, she turned and saw the person that she had been thinking of. Her face was sad and drawn, and Penelope longed to hug her. She had read a study once that said a person needed seventeen meaningful touches a day to keep emotional balance. She doubted if Erin even got seven. "Have a good night, Ma'am," she called out instead, trying to sound cheerful.
"Whatever," the woman muttered, not meeting her eye. Penelope felt a sharp prick of anger flair up in her breast and she huffed slightly as the doors slid open silently.
"No, not whatever, Ma'am. It wouldn't hurt you to be nice to the one person who is still reaching out to you and making the effort. You don't want to be friendless here."
As Penelope stood between the doors so that they wouldn't close, she watched Erin carefully set her shoulders before turning to face her. "Fine. Have a good evening, Ms. Garcia. I'll see you Monday."
"That's better. Good night." She stepped behind the safety of the doors, letting them close her off from Erin. Her heart still smarted from the rude way she had been treated, but she was glad that she had pushed the woman into responding somewhat nicely.
The entire drive home, she thought about the woman. She was so alone in her ivory tower, never looking down anymore for someone to rescue her. It made horrible sense to Penelope, Erin had reached out and then been rebuffed by the person she had thought she was in love with. Penelope might even have done the same when Kevin had let her go, had she not had Derek around to pull her out of the mire of her self-pity. Erin had no one like that in her life, she had admitted as much one night to Rossi, and he had told her in passing, shortly after they had ended things.
Sighing, she trudged up to her apartment, frowning at the fruit basket that rested in front of her door. Picking it up, she let herself in and made sure everything was locked before sitting on the couch and looking at the card. Thanks for looking out for me, Garcia. I needed it more than I knew. Sniffling a little at Reid's kindness, she picked over the fruit, noticing the assortment was like nothing she had ever seen before. The pieces were strange, unfamiliar, and she hoped that she liked what he had picked, not wanting to hurt his feelings.
Finally, she picked out a small purple fruit that looked interesting to her and popped it into her mouth. The taste was odd, yet satisfying, and she popped another in her mouth, trying to ignore the strange tingling in her stomach as the juices slid down her throat. Wiping at her lips, she found that her fingers came away blue, and she pulled out her compact to look in the mirror. Her mouth was stained a deep blue and she shook her head, getting up to brush her teeth.
That seemed to have no effect on her and so she got ready for bed, flopping back onto it and staring at the ceiling. "Erin Strauss, what am I going to do about you? I wish I understood you better, knew how you thought, were treated, to treat us so."
She fell into a deep, troubled, sleep, dreams of Erin crying, begging, screaming, filling her night. The one that confused her most of all was the one where she hugged Erin tightly, so tightly it seemed as if she bled into the woman, the edges of their body blurring, becoming one, and when she pulled away, she was staring at her own face. Looking down at her hands, she saw long, elegant fingers so different from her own.
It was enough to startle her awake and she sat up in bed, trying to reorient herself. The dark obscured everything, but she felt like something was majorly wrong. Pushing the covers off, she encountered soft silk covering her body, and began to panic. She had worn a t-shirt and a pair of boxers to bed, not some silky nighty. Penelope tried to turn her bedside lamp on, but found it wasn't where it was supposed to be. Stumbling out of bed, she fumbled for the light switch to turn on the overhead light and gasped at what she saw.
It was not her bedroom. She was in some stranger's house, wearing a stranger's clothes, and she had no idea how she'd gotten there. Panic built in her chest as she looked around the room, taking in the soft, pale, colors that contrasted with the dark wood of the floor. The room felt elegant, cool, reserved, and a lot like Erin, if she really thought about it. With a pause, she looked down at her hands and saw that they were not hers. They were someone else's as well.
"This cannot be happening," she whispered, and even that sounded different to her ears. Finally, her eyes fell on a mirror above a dresser and she rushed over to it, taking a good long look at who stared back at her. Terrified blue eyes peeked out of an oval face haloed by ash blonde hair. "This cannot be happening," she repeated a bit louder, hearing the woman's voice tumble from her mouth.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself, even as a phone began to ring desperately in the background. Once more, she looked around the room and found where the phone was. Rushing over, she answered breathlessly. "Hello?"
"Penelope?" It sounded so odd to hear her voice in that context and she nodded absently. "Is that, what is, I'm scared."
The honesty in her voice startled Penelope and she began to cry. "I don't know what's happening, Erin. But I'm upset, too."
"Should I come over?"
It only took her a heartbeat to answer. "Yes. We need to figure out what is happening to us, and get it resolved before Monday."
"All right, I'll be there shortly. I, I don't know how long it will take me, since I'm not too sure of where my house is in relation to your apartment."
"Take your time, I want you to get here safely."
"Yes, Penelope." They hung up and she sank back on the bed, staring at the ceiling as the tears began to roll down her cheeks faster and faster. This was so not what she meant when she wished for a way to get to know Erin better. She couldn't even poke around in the woman's house, that would feel too much like a violation of her person.
Sighing, she curled up in a ball on the bed and waited for the doorbell to ring. There was nothing else that she could do.