I don't own anything related to Criminal Minds. Thank god.

This is totally AU and unrelated to my "Life Sucks" universe. Do not ask me what drugs my muse is on, because I don't want them. Rated M for the inevitable things like, you know, blood, guts, gore, and lovemaking. Thank you and good night.

Broken and Bleeding

By Scintillating Tart

Penelope Garcia straightened her daughter's dress and said, "Now, little one, you have to promise to be good for me today. I know it's a new day care and you're nervous, but you've got to be good." She sat back on her heels and smiled at her little girl. Eva looked a little like her father, but not much. She mostly looked like Penelope – all big brown eyes and chubby cheeks. Her dark hair was up in pigtails and a tiny pout was on her lips.

"But Mommy –"

"No buts, little miss," Penelope said firmly. "I'll be there to pick you up at the end of the day like before."

"I hate day care," Eva whined. "Everyone is stupid there."

"Just because you're smarter than they are doesn't mean they're stupid," Penelope said warningly. "And don't you dare tell the other kids that they're stupid – you'll get into fights and then you'll be punished for being naughty."

Eva sighed dramatically and long-sufferingly. "Mommy, that's not fair." She spoke with amazing eloquence for a four-year-old, and Penelope immediately regretted two very intelligent computer hackers creating life – it clearly had backfired in more ways than one.

"Okay, smarty pants, get your shoes on and we're going," Penelope said firmly. "Maybe you'll make some new friends today."

"No one wants to be my friend," Eva said, pouting as she sat down and tugged on her sparkly mary janes. "They hate me because I can read big books."

"No, they don't like you because you call them stupid," Penelope said with a frown. "So stop calling them stupid."

Eva sighed. "But they are," she said petulantly.

"That doesn't mean it's nice to say so," Penelope warned. "Okay, get your jacket, Eva Marie – it's time to go."

"Did you put my books in my backpack?" Eva asked anxiously.

"Yes, dear heart," Penelope said softly. "Now let's go – Mommy's going to be late if we don't get you to day care soon. And Mommy can't be late on her first day."

"Yes," Eva agreed. "That would be bad, Mommy."

She didn't even get an office. She got a little 4 foot by 4 foot cubicle that made her feel like the walls were closing in on her. Apparently, the techs that kept the FBI's backbone running weren't to be accorded any kind of bells and whistles. Either that or she'd just been dumped into hell.

Penelope was willing to call her cubicle the outer circle of hell. And she was suddenly nothing more than a glorified data entry specialist. It wasn't fair. She could run circles around these lousy little typists. Hell, if she wasn't scared to death that if she set one toe out of line that someone would take Eva from her and give her back to Kevin – or worse, to his parents – she would have already done a few upgrades to the mainframe in addition to her 'workload'. Clearly, she was being punished in very effective, personal ways. Which meant the Director had her in his sights.

She scowled and flipped off the security camera in the corner of the room.

"Garcia," her supervisor called in a scolding tone, "it's your lunch hour. The commissary is on the second floor, or there's a strip mall down the way that has a few nice places."

"Anywhere I can get a decent cup of coffee?" Penelope asked irritably.

"Yeah, there's a place in the strip mall."

She grabbed her blazer and her purse before she made a mad dash for the door. Freedom!

It took a few minutes to get to the coffee place, then she waited in line what seemed like forever. The douchebag in front of her with his big muscles and tight ass just kept flirting with the barista – and Penelope was just about ready to punch him in the face because she needed coffee NOW. "Excuse me, if you're quite finished making a fool of yourself," Penelope said firmly, walking up to the counter and nudging the stranger out of the way, "she's a lesbian and you're wasting your time. I need a double-shot mocha caramel latte with soy milk, please. And a spinach salad."

The barista was amused as she put in the order, and the man just stared at Penelope appraisingly. She looked over at him and said, "What are you staring at?" She forced herself to look away – oh hell, he was absolutely, utterly gorgeous. She got her food and drink without letting herself stare openly at him, and retreated to a table by the window.

It was barely a moment after she'd sat down when he slipped into the chair across from her with his cup of coffee and a sandwich. "Are you always so rude or is it a special talent?" he inquired.

"Are you always such a blatant flirt or do you just like the hard luck cases?" she retorted, stabbing her salad viciously. "Because I'm not interested."

"Not many people would just beat me out of line to get coffee," he replied. "They're be more likely to drag me into the ladies' room for a quick –"

Penelope's face flushed bright red and she slammed her plastic fork down on the table. "Go. Away," she ground out through clenched teeth. "I only have an hour for lunch."

"Me, too," he replied with a little smirk as he unwrapped his sandwich. "I work for the FBI."

Her eyes rolled heavenward. Great. She worked in the same building with this guy. That would be enough to encourage him. Maybe she should break out her computer skills and – no, that was bad. And hadn't she just lectured Eva this morning about letting people get close and like her?

Penelope sighed and said, "I suppose you're one of the instructors."

"I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit," he said.

She smiled wanly. "And you couldn't deduce that neither the barista nor I were interested in your rippling pectorals? Some profiler." She picked up her fork and went back to stabbing the helpless spinach.

He raised an eyebrow and said, "Was your ex-husband that much of a jerk?"

She hesitated a moment, then smiled. "Okay, maybe just an oblivious profiler."

"SSA Derek Morgan," he said, offering his hand.

"Technical Analyst Garcia," she said, declining to shake his hand. "Unfortunately, I also work for the FBI. I used to be freelance but decided to settle down a little." She took a bite of her salad, then shifted in her seat, crossing her legs, trying to hide what he was doing to her. Damn it, being that handsome had to be criminal – she was already having trouble keeping her thoughts straight because her body was turning it up to eleven.

He smiled a little as he finished his sandwich. "Well, Technical Analyst Garcia," Derek Morgan drawled, the words dripping from his lips like honey, "I'll see you around." He leered at her suggestively, and she stilled, her face suddenly flushing again. He leaned in over the table and said, "Not interested, my ass." And then he was gone, lost to the lunch crowd.

And she was left sitting there, hating herself.

Morgan was barely back in the building when his phone started ringing. "Hotch, man, I thought we were actually allowed a lunch break," he complained.

Hotchner sighed. "Sorry, Morgan – we have a case. Round table in ten."

Morgan sighed. "Yeah, okay," he said, shaking his head, hoping to rattle loose the sinfully sexy blonde from the coffee shop and get her out of his mind. Yeah, that didn't work so well. It just made him dizzy. He waited his turn to go through the weapons screener and patiently waited as they verified his credentials vs. what he was carrying. And while he was standing there, waiting, Technical Analyst Garcia stepped through the metal detectors on the other side of the room. He watched her get patted down because something in her purse set off the alarms, and then he was let go – credentials in hand.

He walked over and said, "Fancy seeing you here, Technical Analyst Garcia."

She looked up at him like he'd just slapped her. "Agent Morgan," she greeted coldly before she stalked off in heels entirely too tall to walk in. He just watched her – daaaamn, he could watch her coming or going and just – yeah, no. He had to get his head back in the game. Round table. Case. Sounds bad.

He ran down the corridor and stopped the elevator doors from closing. "So, what floor?" he asked her.

She rolled her eyes. "I already hit the button," she said.

He looked at the panel and jabbed the six. The four was already lit. Yeah, he was an idiot. The elevator rose and when the doors opened at the fourth floor, he almost followed her out.

Damn it.

Damn it all to hell.

The doors closed again and re-opened at the sixth floor. He got off the elevator and walked to the BAU's main conference room. Everyone was already there, waiting. "What happened to you?" Rossi asked. "You look like someone kicked your puppy."

Morgan shrugged it off and settled into the last chair while JJ presented the case.

Penelope stopped down on the second floor to get Eva from day care. Her little girl looked tired and one of her pigtails had slipped during the day. "Did you have fun today?"

Eva scowled at her mother. "No," she muttered. "And I won't have fun tomorrow, either. Bobby pulled my hair and made me cry because he said Wonderland isn't real and I can't go."

Penelope sighed. "I'm sorry, honey – let's get your jacket on and go get some supper, okay?"

"But Henry is nice," Eva said. "And his daddy's nice."

Penelope nodded. "Well, you made one friend, then –"

"But Bobby's a jerky-mcjerkface," Eva sighed, dragging her shoes on the carpet. "Can we get pizza, Mommy?"

Penelope scooped her daughter up and said, "If that's what you want."

They were headed out the door, the guards smiling knowingly as they watched her carrying her daughter, when Penelope's work phone rang. She grabbed it and said, "Technical Analyst Garcia – I'm out of the office but how can I help?"

"You're being reassigned to a unit as of tomorrow," the Director said. "Report to the Behavioral Analysis Unit at 6am."

"Uh, sir – the day care doesn't open till eight, and I don't have a sitter in the mornings," Penelope protested.

"Figure something out."

She stared at the phone, then decided it would get her in more trouble to throw it than to just chill out and figure out an actual solution to the problem.

Oh hell.

Not to mention – the Behavioral Analysis Unit was where tall, dark, and Neanderthal worked.

She was officially, unequivocably, screwed with her pants on.

"Mommy, I'm hungry," Eva complained.

"Okay, pizza," Penelope replied, focusing again. "Let's get you some pizza!"

"Can I call Daddy tonight?" Eva asked. "He'll be worried about me starting at a new day care."

Penelope held her tongue – stopping just short of telling the little girl that Kevin Lynch wouldn't give a rat's ass if she was even still alive. The last child support check had bounced and Penelope was living on credit cards till her salary kicked in. Hell no, that miserable son of a bitch wouldn't care at all. "If you're still awake when he gets home from work," she said in a mild, even tone. "But California time is three hours behind us, remember?"

Eva frowned. "Oh yeah," she said. "I forgot."

"How about on Saturday?" Penelope suggested gently. "You can talk to Daddy and Grandma and Grandpa if they're home – is that okay?"

Eva nodded and said, "Mommy, I can walk. Put me down."

Penelope chuckled and let her grave-faced little girl down. She took her mother's hand and they walked at Eva's pace to the car. Once Eva was in her car seat, Penelope just had to figure out where a decent pizza place was. Thank god for google.