AN: I have a challenge story I am working on, but this idea came in and I couldn't shake it...I thought of some crazy ideas with this story. It was going to be a one shot, but then I thought...probably not! Still deciding on sub-romances and writing as I go along. What would you like to see? Remember: be careful with how much you drink the next time you party…You may get more than you bargained for…

Present time...

Through her befuddled brain, Penelope could barely make out the sounds of someone retching. It wasn't a pleasant sound to wake up to. Groggily, she made to roll over and hug the pillow tighter around her head, but soreness above her butt on her hip stopped her.

And then it penetrated her thoughts enough to realize someone she cared about was puking.

Tugging the pillow off her head, she was blinded by light, just like the Manfred Mann song. Flashing neon lights that reminded her she of exactly where she was...

A hotel. In Las Vegas. For JJ's last hurrah as a single team member.

An immediate, painful throbbing began, and her stomach roiled in protest. Oh, heavens…what had she drunk last night?

The sound of retching, this time completed with the splashing sound of solid objects hitting the toilet water, turned her stomach even more and made her hurry. She squinted her eyes shut, reached for the nightstand where her faithful glasses should be laying, and put them on her face. Gingerly, she sat up and opened her eyes.

Her beautiful blonde best girlfriend was kneeling by the porcelain bowl, resting her face on her forearm.

"Jayje?" Penelope croaked, her throat dry, sore, and hoarse. She tried to swallow the cotton in her mouth and continued, "You okay, buttercup?"

"Nooooooo," JJ moaned pitifully. "Someone take me out back and put me out of my misery, please. You can borrow my gun...it's at home in the safe."

Before Penelope could protest, a loud snore came from the floor behind where she was standing. She turned to see the very long legs, lacy bikini panties, and matching black lace bra of Emily Prentiss. At least, she thought it was Emily; the little black dress Prentiss had worn was now turned inside out and stuck on her head, as if it had given her too much trouble to completely remove it.

Another snore was interrupted by a nonsensical word that sounded similar to "Glurgh."

"Prentiss, you okay?" Garcia called out, concerned about her other friend, too.

In a lightning fast move, Emily sat up and began to frantically tug the tight lycra dress off her head. After a short struggle, she flung the offensive dress away, and then sat in the middle of the floor. Her hair resembled a cross between a rooster's comb and a rat's nest, and she had a look of utter dismay on her face.

"What in the hell happened last night?" she snapped, and then scowled as she brought both hands to her temples.

"I know," JJ said, coming out of the bathroom, looking forlorn.

Em shot her a falsely optimistic look with a grin that resembled a cringe. "It was all just a really weird dream, wasn't it?"

JJ shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid not."

A panicked look settled on Garcia's face as she reached a hand to touch her exposed hip, but Emily just scoffed disbelievingly.

"I just need coffee," she chanted. "If I have some coffee, everything will be clear and back to normal. Yes, I need coffee—"

"Emily!" JJ snapped, grabbing Prentiss's shoulders firmly. "You can't compartmentalize this! It's all true—every last second of it."

Emily hung her head and took a deep breath. "I'm never going to be able to face them again…"

"Yes, you will," JJ said, hugging her friend, and then looked impossibly sad, her big blue eyes filling with tears. "But I'm not sure if I am marrying Will…"

"I only want to know why my hip hurts so much," Penelope groaned, still fingering the spot. She tried to look over her shoulder, but she couldn't see the area in question.

When she looked back at both of her friends, their faces were blank in astonishment.

"What?" Penelope asked, uncharacteristically scowling.

"PG…you don't remember?" Em questioned warily. At Penelope's sustained blank look, she continued, "The tattoo parlor?"

Penelope's eyes grew huge, far too large for her colorful frames. "Oh no…What is it?"

The idea of a tattoo didn't really bother Penelope. She'd always wanted one, but she'd been too scared to do it. Kevin had thought it would be cute, too, to get a little heart or a butterfly. They weren't tacky anymore. Derek, who was always in style, had a million of them all over the place.

However, the look on JJ's face made her worry.

"It's not what it is, Garcie…it's what it says."

The fuzzy memory of going to the tattoo parlor, of wanting some words—"Like Gaga's Sanskrit!"—came back to her. That could be cool…

And then she remembered what she'd asked them to write.

Penelope gasped and ran into the bathroom. A second later, she cried, "Oh God, no…oh, dear God!"

Tattooed for all posterity on her posterior were the words: #IheartDM