"Is everything okay, My Chocolate Adonis?" Penny Garcia paused in packing up her desk at the end of the day, and concernedly looked over the rims of her bright red spectacles to peer at Derek Morgan. "That phone call looked serious." She hoped nothing had happened to scupper their evening plans. Finally, a case had landed them within driving distance of her parent's home, and she was looking forward to introducing Derek to them.

"Everything is fine, Baby Girl," Derek soothed her as he slid his arms into his tan leather jacket. "Shall we go?"

"I can't believe my parents have met all the gang except for you," Penny commented.

"I can't believe you've taken all the members of the gang to meet your parents, except me," replied Derek with a pout.

"Oh! It just never . . . I mean, they couldn't . . . " Penny stammered, only stopping when she noticed the smirk. "Oh, you!" She playfully slapped Derek on the butt, and he grinned as he led her out of the building to his car.

"Tell me about your parents," Derek said. "What are they like?"

Penny threw her handbag into the backseat of her car and slid the key into the ignition. "They're great!" she enthused. "They're very open-minded and love entertaining all sorts of guests. Dad's a mechanic who is really into his sport, he was part of that endurance race-marathon-thingy that was on last week. Mom's a nurse who loves gardening, she loves bright colours and funky patterns. They did a lot of the interior decorating at home, and, since we're meeting them there, she'll probably make her famous Baked Alaska. That's something nobody else in the team has experienced. Also, Dad is rebuilding an old classic car in his garage, so that's a bit cluttered at the moment."

"So, in other words, they are open, friendly, zany, and determined. Sounds like someone else I know," Derek complimented his passenger while mentally storing away the information he had just learned. Gardening, classic cars, interior decorating, sports, nursing, cooking. Got it, he thought.

Within half an hour they had pulled up in front of a one-story house, and the first thing that hit Derek was the sight of immaculate gardens. Not just weed-free – immaculate. Colour coordinated, size coordinated, and perfectly manicured. And not just one of them – all of them.

"Hi, Daddy!" His attention was pulled back to Penelope, and the short, balding man that had joined her. Derek quickly exited the car.

"This is Derek Morgan. Derek, meet my Dad, Larry." Derek offered his hand to Larry in greeting.

"Lawrence." Mr Garcia quickly set Derek straight, and ignored the hand. "You think you could do better?"

Derek frowned. "Lawrence is a great name, can't see anything wrong with it."

"The garden, numnuts. You were scrutinising it as you came in. Think you could do better?"

"No, sir. I don't garden," Derek freely admitted.

"No car, brown leather clothes, doesn't garden," Larry looked him up and down with a grimace.

"Really?" came a soft, feminine voice from behind Lawrence. "That doesn't sound like a friend of our Penny at all!"

Derek looked to his right and was flabbergasted at what he saw. Though he probably shouldn't be, he realised as he surreptitiously swallowed the surfeit of saliva that had erupted in his mouth. Penelope Garcia was a carbon copy, cookie cutter, clone of the woman standing before him. She had the same unruly blonde curls, vivid makeup, and brightly coloured clothes as her daughter and there was no mistaking that she was Mrs. Garcia. A wide grin broke out on his face. He was back in his comfort zone – he could handle all the Penelope Garcias the world threw at him.

Penny had noticed her friend's discomfiture at her father's observations and decided to step in. She glared balefully at Larry, who instantly burst into laughter, and grasped Derek's hand. "Pleased to meet you, Derek. Any friend of Penny's is more than welcome here."

Mrs. Garcia huffed in exasperation. "He didn't do his "numnuts" speech on you did he, dear? I'm so sorry, my husband can be such a child at times!" She playfully cuffed her husband behind the ears.

"It's no problem, Mrs. Garcia," Derek assured her. Turning to her husband, Derek look him up and down. "I love your heavy, sensible, brown leather work boots, Larry."

Mrs Garcia, Penelope, and Derek burst into raucous guffaws, and, after a pause, Larry joined them.

The joke was on him, after all.