Series 8 One-shots: The Silencer
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.
So anyone who has read my Series 6 and Series 7 one-shots will know what this is about. I take a prompt from each episode and make a one-shot for that specific episode. By request and the encouragement of others I am doing the same for Series 8. I will update as often as I can but I have two things working against me on this: first I have a 3 week old daughter who is keep me busy and tired (so excuse the mistakes but feel free to point them out and I will get them corrected) and series 8 is not showing in the UK yet (so the internet is my best friend at the moment).
. . .
Prompt
Morgan: Alright, that is unnecessary roughness, you my Sweet need to settle down.
Garcia: I know, I know, I know, I just, I, I thought this would be easier.
Morgan: I know so did I.
. . .
Having managed to struggle through the door to the apartment block, Penelope continued to stagger up the steep stairs with her abundance of bags and belongings. Finally at her own front door she learnt awkwardly against the door frame, lifting a knee to the hold the door handle down as she tried to turn the key in the lock. She could just put the bags down, let herself in and then pick them up again, but that would be too easy.
Feeling the door give way, Pen pushed it open, steadying herself so that she didn't fall flat on her face, she entered her apartment. Kicking the door shut behind her she made her way towards the couch and collapsed in a heap of multicoloured plastic, paper and fabric. Sighing deeply she considered moving but was surprisingly comfortable under all her purchases.
As she sat and mindlessly contemplated how long she could stay buried she was startled by the sound of a key turning in her lock. There was only one other person that she allowed free access, Derek Morgan. Flustered, she tried to fight her way out of the bright bundle of bags.
"Whoa Momma, just what have you been up to?" Derek called from the doorway as he took in the less then graceful site of Penelope trying to escape the attack of the carrier bags. He couldn't help but smirk at the sight that was 100% Penelope Garcia.
Straightening her sparkly glasses and adjusting her hair as she righted herself, she smiled sweetly; "Just a little retail therapy my Angelfish."
"A little retail therapy, I think I may argue your definition of little," Derek spoke as he made his way across the room.
Penelope rolled her eyes at his lack of feminine understanding, "When are you men going to learn that size is an irrelevant concept to us women? So Sweet Cheeks, what can I do for you on this fine Saturday afternoon. I will admit it is a huge pleasure to see you but I really wasn't expecting you to make you way over here."
"I can see that," Derek was now sat beside her, and couldn't help having a nose in the nearest bag. Immediately he guessed the contents of the large green bag was more treats for her Godson. JJ frequently joked how the more stressed Penelope got the more spoilt Henry was.
Playfully slapping his hand away from the next bag, a bright pink one that Derek recognised as coming from a rather expensive lingerie boutique, Penelope chided him; "That Hot Stuff is for my eyes only."
Derek pouted, giving Pen his best puppy dog eyes, "Spoilsport."
"You still haven't answered my question. What can I do for you, other than let you see the new additions to my knick knack drawer?"
"I am here to see if you are alright."
Penelope smiled at the genuine look of concern now on his face. She knew what he was angling at, the fact that she didn't cope with change in any way, shape or form.
Losing Emily for a second time in a twelve month period was not easy on any of them. Her being alive and choosing to leave didn't make it any easier to accept then when they had believed she was dead. Either way she was still gone. Nervously Penelope bit her bottom lip as she looked up to meet Derek's dark eyes.
"I miss her."
Derek pulled her into his strong arms, squashing the bags between them, as his kissed her softly on the top of the head, "We all do, but you saw for yourself how happy she is when we went over."
"She was happy here with us too," Pen pouted.
"Now we both know that wasn't strictly true, no matter how hard we want it to be the truth. Emily needed a fresh start. I didn't want to admit that any more than you do, but i have come to accept it."
"A fresh start! How does returning to her old company constitute a fresh start? The same people that got her into the mess she was in last year, the one that nearly got her killed. So much so that we all thought she was dead. And now she may as well be as we never see her," Penelope ranted.
Derek let Penelope move back from him slightly, his arch eyebrow letting her know he thought she was being silly.
"Baby Girl we both know you are getting your knickers in an unnecessary twist here. You can see Emily whenever you like as I know you have that set up in your glorious techno geek way. As for the fresh start Miss Thing we both know what she is doing this time for Interpol is very different to her previous role. She isn't going to end up going toe to toe with some Doyle-esque psycho. You see how much paperwork Hotch has, she'll be desk bound."
"You are just saying that to make me feel better. Hotch sees more than his fair share of action and of the psychos now you mention it. OMG we have to get her back here now," Pen panicked and started rummaging through her bright pink purse for her cell.
"Baby, please," Derek pleaded, rubbing her arm gently, "Will you listen to yourself?"
Turning to face Derek once more, cell in one hand and tears streaking her face she smiled weakly; "I'm being silly aren't I?"
Derek nodded, cupping her face in his strong hands and wiping the tears with his thumbs.
"It's going to be okay, you know that don't you?"
Pen nodded.
"And you know you have got me whatever, I'm not going anywhere, right?"
Pen nodded again.
"Good, so now let's sort out what we are doing for the rest of the day."
. . .
Any change, even a change for the better, is always accompanied by drawbacks and discomforts.
Arnold Bennett, writer
