Dapple Berry

"Penelope Garcia, will you marry me?"

"Derek?" Fran called from her bedroom. "Is Penelope out there with you?"

He lowered his voice. "Pen?"

And then she did the most impulsive thing she'd done since going off the grid when her parents died. "Only if you explain to Em and JJ how this happened without their foreknowledge."

He broke out into one of his singularly seductive smiles. "I love you."

"Wait till you have to explain this to them. You might say 'screw this'."

"Never, sweetheart."

"Derek!"

"Coming, Mom. Penelope's still here, drinking all the coffee."

She couldn't stop the smile on her face. "I'm marrying you son, Fran."

"Woman, could you not keep a lid on it for five minutes? Now Sarah and Desiree are going to be all over me."

Fran was in the living room, and she hugged Penelope. "Now I know I'll get some grandbabies."

"Trust me," Penelope said with a dash of sauce. "That's the first order of business."

"Oh God," Morgan groaned, sinking back into the couch.

She smacked him upside the head. "You behave."

Fran hugged herself. "I get to plan a wedding."

Penelope put an arm around her mother-in-law. "We get to plan the most fantabulous wedding ever."

"Virginia?"

Penelope shoved her glasses a little further up. "Well, I want the whole team there, obviously, but maybe we can come here. It'll take some planning. But I can get everyone a leave around that time, I bet."

"Do I get any say in this?" Morgan asked.

"No," they agreed simultaneously.

"Sarah got married here, I don't see why we can't do Virginia," Fran decided with a finger to her lip.

"I have to tell my girlfriends, though," Garcia added. "JJ and Emily. Before anyone else does," and she shot Morgan a look.

"Why you looking at me? I don't blab."

"Just making sure, sugar."

He held up warding-off hands. "I promise my total silence until you tell everyone."

"And this doesn't exempt you from our date tonight," she added.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Morgan's phone rang. Their expression fell. Morgan put the phone on speaker.

"Hotch," Morgan answered. "I am gonna kill you for real."

"I really need you both back. I'm sorry. Can you come back to Quantico?"

Morgan sighed. "I'm coming."

"Garcia?"

She nodded. "I'm on my way, Fearless Leader. First flight out, I promise."

"I'm very sorry. Please tell Mrs. Morgan that."

Fran chuckled. "I was married to a cop, Agent Hotchner. I understand. I'll make sure they get hustled out of here ASAP."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Hotch?" Morgan asked. "Is the case local?"

"For us," Hotch said.

And the fact that he offered no details brought it home that this was bad, very bad, even compared to what they usually saw.

"Give us twenty-four tops," Garcia told Hotch.

. . . . . . . . . . .

While they were gathering luggage to go to the airport-Garcia had bumped a few Baptists to get them on the next flight to Virginia-Morgan put an arm around her.

"Sorry about the date, Baby Girl."

"It's our job. When it's over, you can take me on a date-slash-victory party which will be cooler, but I still expect to be shown around Chicago at some point before we're both ninety and everything's changed so bad you act like you have dementia. Capice?"

"I love you, you know that?"

"I love you too. But the threat still stands."

He chuckled into her hair. "Me, I'm looking foreword to the making-babies segment."

She sighed into his chest. "Men are such pigs."

"As my sisters will tell you."

"They have."

They stayed like that for a few minutes, breathing in each others' presence. "Ready, Baby?"

"As I'll ever be. It's kids. I can tell, the way Hotch talked. Whoever this sick puppy is, kids are involved. I want to do bad, horrible, undefined things to this unsub. I really do."

"This is a whole 'nother side to you."

She stepped back and straightened her hair. "My pep talk. I have to get psyched up to deal with these sickos. Be ready for more of the same until I get in my bunker."

"Got it."

Hand in hand, they walked out of the room.