AN: Thanks so much for the reviews! I thought I'd post before I hit the sack this morning (I was out kind of late!)...


Chapter 7

Hotch made it back to the table in one piece through the throngs of people still on the dance floor. JJ and Reid were engaged in conversation, and Dave was nowhere to be found. He chuckled lightly; he was probably hitting on the svelte bartender Morgan hadn't been interested in.

On a hunch, he turned to look, and sure enough, Dave was up at the bar. A second later, he returned to the table, carrying two beers.

Hotch gave him a sardonic look. "No luck with Red up there?"

Dave handed Aaron a beer and then took his seat. "Lose your date, too?"

Aaron's lips quirked with a smile. As he'd expected, Rossi had figured out something was amiss. There was no pulling the wool over Dave's all-seeing eyes. "No. I believe I just put her back where she needs to be."

He took a little time to explain what had transpired, from Garcia's sad looks in the conference room to the dance out there on the floor. He was feeling pretty good about everything. Although he was having fun and enjoying his time with Penelope, he wasn't cut out for this scene. Once Garcia and Morgan were on the path to each other, he could go back to his regular life of peace and serenity.

Dave picked up his drink and saluted Aaron. "Good job."

"I think so."

After a quick glance where the dancing couple had been, Dave's expression turned to one of foreboding. "Ah...I wouldn't congratulate myself too much, cowboy."

Hotch frowned as he glanced at the dance floor, just in time to see Penelope running across the room. Morgan was standing next to a voluptuous brunette, looking forlorn and confused.

Hotch muttered an oath under his breath. Apparently he wasn't done with his task after all.

Rossi shook his head. "Out of everyone in the entire world, I never thought you'd be the one to put yourself through something like this."

Hotch took a sip of his beer. "Remind me of that the next time I volunteer to play boyfriend."

At that moment, Penelope was returning from the bathroom. Her eyes were red and her makeup looked somewhat chalky on her cheeks, like it had been hastily reapplied. It was obvious that she'd been crying.

"That's my cue to go," Dave said, standing and donning his jacket.

"Goodnight, Dave."

Rossi didn't move. "A word of advice?"

"Of course."

"Be careful, Aaron," he warned.

"I'm not going to let any harm come to Garcia or Morgan," he replied, reaching for his beer and taking a sip.

"I'm not talking about them; I'm talking about you." When he looked up at his friend, Dave's dark eyes bore through him. "Guard yourself. Otherwise, you might realize Morgan wouldn't be the only one who'd be lucky to have her."

Hotch nodded and focused as Penelope approached the table. Really, he wasn't worried. He was here to help Penelope and Derek; he had no intentions on falling in love. He'd seen the God-given chemistry between his two team members, and he knew how rare that was...and how foolish it was to squander it.

"PG, are you okay?" JJ asked as she reached the table.

Penelope kept looking downward. "I'm fine."

The silence around the table was deafening and very telling.

At that moment, Morgan started back towards the table, his gaze focused directly on Garcia.

On the same note, his "friend" was hastily following behind him.

Penelope was staring at her hands, trying very hard not to tear up and looking as miserable as a woman could look. This wasn't good; she looked very fragile to him, and his protective instinct kicked in.

"Penelope," he asked, "do you want to go home?"

Whatever conversation Morgan wanted to have with her would have to wait.

She stood immediately, and said gratefully, "Please."


The drive from McGovern's started off very quiet. When he glanced over, Hotch saw Penelope sitting stiffly next to him in the front seat of his Lexus. She was chewing her bottom lip, trying valiantly not to start crying again.

Contrary to popular belief, he was not as stoic as people thought he was, and he seriously hated when women cried. He felt helpless. Penelope cried with sincere emotion, like her heart was being ripped from her chest. There was no sniffling behind a tissue for Garcia.

Perhaps talking about it would help. "Penelope."

"Yes, sir?" she answered with a voice filled with tears.

"What happened out there on the dance floor?"

She sniffled and turned to the window. "Nothing."

That made him smile. She was a terrible liar.

"Judging from your smeared makeup and tears on your face, I'm guessing that isn't exactly the truth," he said, but gently.

She barked a laugh. "Well, nothing happened except for me being an idiot."

He'd learned a long time ago that the less he said in situations like this, the better. So, he simply asked, "Why do you say that?"

"It's really nothing."

"Garcia, if I can help, I'd like to," he prodded softly.

She was quiet, still staring out the window as he continued to drive. He thought that maybe he'd pushed too hard. It had to be her decision to open up.

She turned to look back at him. "Have you ever thought for sure that someone was your soul mate?"

He swallowed as her words registered. He definitely knew that feeling, like part of your own heart lived outside your body. He nodded calmly, far more calmly than he felt. "Yes."

"And you open your heart time and time again to that person, and they do nothing but hurt you?"

"Is that what happened with you and Morgan?"

"He... He..." She began to sniffle and took a deep breath.

"Take your time," he murmured. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a tissue. "We have all night."

She looked over at Hotch, her eyes huge and luminous behind her red frames. "Why? Why does he have the power to hurt me so badly? It's like he doesn't even care."

"I think Morgan cares very much," he answered truthfully. There was no doubt in his mind that Penelope was very important to Derek.

She whispered. "Like he does for everyone else on the team."

He gave her a look. "You don't believe that any more than I do. You know you're very special to Morgan."

"I'm not special enough for him. Not the way I want to be," she said miserably, and then her eyes filled with tears again and she looked back out the window. She mocked herself, saying, "That's why I'm such an idiot."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"Penelope," he said quickly, arching a brow at her. "Do you consider me a good judge of character?"

"You're the best," she said, and he could tell she meant that honestly.

"Then believe me when I say you are definitely not an idiot." He pulled in front of her apartment complex and threw the car into park. "I would say that you are brave, compassionate, and intelligent. You see the best in people, and you let them see the best in you."

"Crying like an idiot is the best in me?"

"No, Penelope," he explained. "It's you, giving yourself the chance to love and be loved in return—that's the best in you."

"Aww," she said, her face screwing up like she was going to bawl again. He hadn't intended on that happening. "That was so so soooo uber sweet."

"It's part of what our deal was about, Penelope," he said, handing her a tissue.

"Really?" She stopped and blew her nose noisily.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied teasingly.

She began to smile, just a little. "So...mentioning our deal... do you still want me to show you how to loosen up after all of this tonight?"

Oh, man...did he?

Seeing her hopeful smile, and how she'd changed the focus and became more of her old self, answered the question for him.

"Especially after tonight," he answered. "I'm looking for you to help me be able to be less conservative, help me take risks—"

"Ooh! I like that!" she said, with a big, naughty grin on her face.

"Within reason," he added quickly. Good God, what would she do if she thought there was no limit?!

She laughed, the first time he'd heard that since they'd arrived at the club. He was glad to hear it.

She pushed his arm and winked. "Fuddy duddy."

He chuckled. "Wildcat."

Her grin intensified. "Wow. A new nickname. You're busting out all over the place, si—Aaron."

"It's what I do best," he replied with a grin that mirrored hers.

Suddenly, she reached over and gave him a big hug. He held his arms out for a second, then wrapped them around her and patted her back.

"Thank you, Hotch," she said softly, her voice muffled by his shirt. "For everything."

"My pleasure, Garcia," he answered, and he meant exactly that. It was his pleasure to help her. The whole night had truly been a pleasure.

"See you Monday," she said, sliding out of his car.

"Goodnight."

He watched her walk, a spring to her step, up to her complex to make sure she was safely inside, and then he drove down the road. The night hadn't turned out like he'd intended. He'd have to spend more time time with Garcia. That wasn't an unpleasant thought at all; he did have a very good time and he felt more relaxed, even after the drama. Perhaps this relationship really was mutually beneficial? He turned on the radio, leaned back, and smiled, as he continued the journey home.