A/N: Thank you so much to all the wonderful people who have reviewed and favorited this story. You guys totally motivate me to keep writing, even when it gets tough (which is pretty often). So thank you! Also, school is going to be very hectic for me over the next few weeks. So if I take a little while to update, that's why.

Ivy was a vision in white.

The sparkling Cinderella-style gown made her look like a princess that had just walked straight out of a Disney movie. Her curls hung in long tresses, half hidden by a veil that was attached to a tiara. And her eyes reflected the joy that only a woman in love could understand.

"I can't believe I'm really getting married!" she breathed as she gazed at her reflection in the antique floor-length mirror.

The sight brought Penelope to the verge of tears. Her only daughter was about to embark on the journey of a lifetime, a journey that Penelope had never been prepared to take. But Ivy was braver than she could ever be. Braver and luckier.

"Sweetie, you look so beautiful," she said as she smoothed her daughter's veil.

Ivy smiled and slowly turned to face her. "Well, I have good genes to thank for that."

Penelope chuckled softly. She had never thought of herself as being all that attractive, so it was strange that she had somehow produced such a stunning child.

She watched Ivy wander over to the window that overlooked the park in which the wedding was to take place.

"There's a lot of people," she remarked.

Penelope nodded. "You've got a lot of people that care about you."

"I know."

She heard the small sigh that Ivy probably didn't intend for her to hear. A brief pang of sadness intruding on the happiest day of her life.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Penelope asked, approaching her daughter with concern.

Ivy shook her head with a small smile. "It's nothing. I'm just a little nervous, that's all."

Garcia knew better.

She gently tilted her daughter's chin up, so the girl had no choice but to look her in the eyes. "Talk to me, baby."

Defeated, the young bride nodded in agreement. "Okay. I know it's just a traditional part of weddings—it's really not all that important—but I just kind of wish I had a father here to walk me down the aisle, give me away."

This was the one thing Penelope couldn't give her.

"Ivy…I'm so sorry."

"Mom, it's okay," Ivy said, giving her a reassuring hug. "Really. It was just some stupid fantasy. This wedding's perfect already."

Penelope forced a smile as she pulled back. "You uh, you've got a groom that's going to be wondering where you are," she reminded her daughter. "Maybe we should go get you married."

"Yeah. Let's go get me married."

The familiar buzzing noise of her phone vibrating against her nightstand pulled Garcia from her dream. She slowly opened her eyes to the realization that it was just that—a dream. But it had seemed so real that it left her shaken.

The scenario would never happen. When Ivy's wedding day did finally arrive, she would have her adoptive father to walk her down the aisle. Her adoptive mother would be the one in the room with her, telling her how beautiful she was, calming any nerves she might have. Penelope would consider herself happy just to be there. This dream could never be reality. It would've been the scenario if she had never given Ivy up in the first place.

A decision that she would always second-guess herself on.

She was lucky that her daughter had been so understanding, so willing to give her a chance. And yes, she wondered if Ivy would want to do the same for her biological father.

Penelope had never thought she would get that opportunity, not in a million years. Then that necklace came into the picture, by her best friend of all people, and everything changed. There was suddenly a glimmer of hope to find her child's father. She wasn't naïve. That necklace could've passed hands dozens of times over the years. It had probably been through pawn shops, yard sales, and God knows what else. Not to mention the greater possibility that a trail would just lead back to the motel maid.

But she couldn't think about all that right now. She had so many factors to consider before she could even begin to try and locate her one-night-stand. Ivy being the first. She had to know if her daughter even wanted a relationship with him. She hadn't so much as asked about him before.

Then there were her own feelings to consider…

No. This was for Ivy, not her. Any feelings that she had felt for this man were induced by alcohol. They weren't real. She didn't even know what kind of person he was!

But her less logical side couldn't deny the fact that she was dying to meet him and see for herself.

It was around nine o'clock in the morning when Emily Prentiss walked into the crowded café, her eyes searching the room for her youngest co-worker. Reid had called her earlier asking to meet up for breakfast. But as casual as the offer was, she knew that something had been weighing on his mind for the past few days.

She finally spotted him at a secluded table in the back corner.

"Emily," he greeted, giving her a small smile as she sat down.

"Spencer. So, did you want someone to share that bagel with, or are you going to tell me what's going on with you?"

No one ever accused her of beating around the bush.

"How do you know something is going on?" he asked.

She sighed. "At this point, I think we all know each other well enough to be able to tell when something is off. You weren't yourself on this last case, and Morgan was even worse. But it's pretty obvious to what's going on with him. You, not so much."

The statement piqued Reid's interest. "You know what's going on with Morgan?"

Emily looked surprised that he didn't know. "Yeah, he had some kind of argument with Garcia. You didn't see how he went out of his way to avoid talking to her? Any time we need to know something, you usually can't beat him to that phone. And Garcia's been acting, well, not like Garcia."

"When I talked to her, she sounded so…distant," Spencer remembered. "But what would she be fighting with Morgan about?"

She shrugged. "I don't understand their conversations, much less their arguments." A brief silence passed before Emily spoke again. "But right now, I'm more concerned about you. What's going on?"

Reid was reluctant to reply. And why wouldn't he be? The odds that his observation amounted to anything more than a pure coincidence were strikingly low. However, as much as he tried, he couldn't shake the gut feeling that there was more to it than that. He had to tell someone.

"Reid?" Emily's voice was quieter now. "Is everything okay?"

"I don't know. This isn't about me."

Confused, she watched as he placed two photos on the table, side by side. They were close-ups of...eyes.

Prentiss raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to assume that you have some kind of reason behind this."

"I'll explain that in a minute," he assured her. "First, tell me if you can find a difference between them."

She decided to go along with it since he was one of her closest friends, and she knew he would make a point eventually. She examined the two photos for a few moments before ultimately concluding that they were indeed identical.

"Now, how often do you see two strangers with the exact same set of eyes?" Spencer asked.

Emily was an observant person and had to be to perform her job at a high level. However, she seriously doubted that she would notice that two strangers had the same eyes if she wasn't looking for it.

"I don't know," she replied. "Not often, I guess."

"Exactly. The human eye has so many dimensions that it's nearly impossible for every single one to line up in two people, especially if they aren't genetically related. Even then, it's more common for a person to get their eye color from one relative, eye shape from another, and so on. And that isn't even allowing for all the combinations that could occur."

"So your mystery eyes probably belong to relatives. What's the big deal?"

"Because this eye," he said, holding up one of the photographs. "—belongs to Morgan. The other belongs to Ivy Layton."

Emily looked at him, surprised. "Garcia's daughter?"

Reid nodded. "I know it's probably a coincidence. That's what I thought when I first noticed it. But I just haven't been able to shake the feeling that it's more than that."

"Reid, you don't think…" she trailed off, unable to finish her thought. It seemed absurd. Impossible, really.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "Like I said, it's not likely."

"No, it isn't," she slowly agreed. "But by now, I've learned not to discount your instincts. They have a habit of being proven true."

Her statement surprised him. His main reason for telling her was so she could convince him that this idea couldn't possibly be true. She wasn't supposed to give it credibility.

Emily sighed. "Look, why don't we just ask Morgan? We can put your mind at ease in a few short minutes."

Reid shook his head. "He'll think we're crazy if we ask something like that."

"That's true," she said, frowning. "Well, we are having that big dinner at Garcia's tomorrow night. Why don't we just keep a watch on things while we're there? I'm sure we'll see that there's nothing secretive going on with them."

He slowly nodded in agreement.

Garcia had been struggling to find the right time to approach Ivy with the subject of her biological father. Not that there hadn't been the time. They had spent most of the day in the kitchen, preparing food for the team dinner the next night.

And since neither Penelope nor her teenage daughter knew anything about preparing such a large meal, it was absolute chaos. Though she was proud to report that the smoke alarm only sounded once.

They were having fun, taking the approach of laughing instead of crying at the mess that seemed to grow by the second. The conversation stayed in the lighthearted category, and that would normally be right up Penelope's alley. However, she couldn't stop thinking about the conversation that they really needed to have.

"So I'm starting to wish I had paid more attention when my mom was watching all those cooking shows," the teen admitted as she tore off a paper towel to dry her freshly-washed hands.

"Hey, at least you have your age as an excuse," Penelope pointed out. "I'm a grown woman, and I still can't find my way around a kitchen."

"Yeah, but I won't be able to use that excuse forever. Do you think the inability to cook is a genetic thing?"

She couldn't help but smile. "For your sake, I seriously hope not."

At that moment, Garcia noticed her phone light up as it beeped, signaling a text message. She let out a sigh, figuring it was Kevin at first. She knew that he was feeling neglected, and while she wanted to fix it, his insecurities were really starting to grate her nerves. He had always felt threatened by her relationship with the team, especially Derek, so she shouldn't have been surprised that he would also feel threatened as she grew closer to Ivy.

"Who is it?" the teen asked curiously.

"Derek," she answered, relief evident in her voice. "He wants to know if we need any help."

"That's nice, but he's a couple hours late."

"No, he asked me earlier too. I told him that we had everything under control. But I think he's worried by the idea of me operating a stove."

"I can't imagine why," Ivy teased. "So why didn't you let him come help?"

Penelope gave her a small shrug. "I wanted to hang out with you, just the two of us. I know my job takes up a lot of my time, so when I'm not working, I want to spend time with my incredibly perfect daughter."

Ivy smiled and hugged her. Penelope held on tightly, closing her eyes as she debated whether she wanted to bring up the topic that had been on her mind since the night before. And ultimately, deciding to do it.

She slowly pulled back. "Sweetie, there's something I want to talk to you about."

Recognizing the seriousness in her voice, Ivy's smile faded away. "Uh, okay."

"It's nothing bad," Penelope said quickly. "It's just…complicated." She took a shaky breath. "It's about your biological father."

It became clear very quickly that the teen had not seen that coming. Her eyes grew wide, and it was as if she wanted to speak, but she was unable to formulate words.

"Maybe we should sit down," Garcia suggested, leading her daughter to the couch in the living room. And once they were settled, she tried to figure out where to go next. "So, you haven't really thought about him, huh?"

"It isn't that," Ivy said, shaking her head. "I just…I wasn't expecting you to bring him up. You haven't mentioned him before now…"

"I know, and I have a very embarrassing reason for that. I uh, don't really know who he is."

It took her a moment to realize that the statement did not come out the way she wanted.

"I mean, I know who it is. There was only one guy that it could've been. I just don't know his name."

That didn't sound much better.

She sighed heavily. "See, I was in Chicago one weekend visiting a friend. One night, we ended up going to this bar. Well, she hit it off with this guy and pretty much left me alone. And then I found a drinking buddy."

"My father."

She nodded. "One thing just kind of led to another. Then the next morning, I was so freaked out by what happened that I high-tailed it out of there before he even woke up. You can imagine my surprise, a few weeks later, when I find out I'm pregnant. I couldn't remember this man's name for the life of me; I don't even know if he told me. Even his appearance was a blur. I didn't have anything to go on."

"So if you don't know who my father is, why are you telling me all this?" Ivy asked carefully.

"Because I may have a way to track him down now. I just didn't want to do that without talking to you first. It will affect you more than anyone, so it should be your call."

The teen looked down, not knowing how to answer.

"And I can't promise that this would work," Penelope went on. "It might not. But we can always try, right?"

"I think it's better if we don't," Ivy said quietly. "Think about it. He's probably married with an actual family. The last thing he'd want is to find out that he has a secret daughter."

"Ivy, any man would be lucky to find out he has a daughter as amazing as you."

"Well, he might not see it that way. And his wife definitely wouldn't. Besides, he could turn out to be a total jerk that I wouldn't want to be around in the first place," she pointed out. "I mean, yes, I've always been curious about him, just like I was always curious about you. But chances are good that tracking him down would just blow up in my face."

Penelope wanted to reassure her that it wouldn't happen, but she had no way of knowing that.

Ivy sighed. "I know I made assumptions with you too, and I turned out to be wrong. But when you aren't careful, you get hurt. I don't want to put myself in that position. At least, not now."

Garcia frowned at the mere thought of her daughter getting hurt because of her. Suddenly, she felt selfish for even suggesting this. Sure, she wanted Ivy to have a relationship with her father. But she also couldn't deny that a large part of this was because she wanted to see the man again.

"Then, we won't do it," she said softly.

And maybe it was best this way. Some things were better left as mysteries.