Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thanks so much for all the reviews, guys! I'm glad you're still hanging in there with me on this one. We're getting to that resolution, so it's only a few more chapters. This chapter is a big one, and it also has a brand new person's POV, which will give you all a look into her head. Thank you again so, so much for your kind reviews and readership. I really appreciate it!

Savannah lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her husband walked into their room and dumped the contents of his pockets onto his dresser. Fran and he had gone out to dinner, and since their fight had happened a mere two days ago, Savannah decided to stay behind. He remained completely silent. Rolling her eyes, Savannah sat up, deciding she would be diplomatic and speak first.

"How was dinner with your mom?" she asked, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

"Fine," he replied, his voice blunted and forced.

She narrowed her eyes when he returned to ignoring her and went to pick up a towel from the clean laundry pile. "Are you taking a shower then?" she asked, even though she knew the answer.

"Yeah," he replied, striding into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him, leaving Savannah in the silence of their bedroom. She sighed as soon as she heard the shower water turn on.

This was what her marriage had become: a mess of jumbled words and awkward silences. She tried telling herself that it was only a matter of time before the man who had stolen her heart almost three years ago came back to her. But it was no use. No matter how much she tried to give herself a pep talk though, she knew in the deepest recesses of her heart he would be lost to her forever.

He loved Penelope; there was no room to question it.

Somehow that did not matter to Savannah, though. Her husband's affair weighed heavily on her mind every day, and she wanted to make him pay. The pain of finding out his mistress had been Penelope, and knowing that her "friend" had gotten pregnant when she herself could not, drove Savannah wild with rage.

She wanted them both to suffer, the same way she had. This love she had for Derek destroyed her in a way no other had. The betrayal of not only her husband, but her friend as well, left her scarred and vulnerable. She found herself wishing frequently that this had all just been a bad dream, and she would wake up to find all of this had been a mere scary fantasy in her mind.

It was no nightmare, though. Her subconscious could not bend this to her will. It was reality. Hard, scary, unbreakable reality.

As she sat on the bed, her hands clenched into tight fists, Derek's phone rang from the dresser. The incessant buzzing began to annoy her, and she ignored it as long she could. Within another five minutes, the phone was back to ringing. With a growl of frustration, Savannah rose from the bed to answer the phone. It was not a number saved in his contacts, and it was a strange area code.

It said Vermont beneath the number.

Frowning, she answered the phone. "Hello?" she muttered, rubbing her forehead.

"Hello? Derek!" a voice cried into the phone.

Savannah's back straightened immediately. She recognized this voice. She would know it anywhere. Glancing at the bathroom door, her eyes narrowed. The shower continued on, but to be sure her husband heard nothing, Savannah strode from the room. As soon as she was in the hallway, she returned her attention to the phone call.

"What do you want?" Savannah hissed into the receiver.

A short silence filled Savannah's ear. Clearly Penelope had not anticipated hearing from Savannah when she called Derek's cellphone. Savannah had to resist the urge to scream bloody murder at the hussy on the other side of the phone.

With a shaking voice, Penelope finally recovered her ability to speak. "Savannah," she said with caution. "I know I'm the last person on the planet you want to hear from."

"You're damn right I don't want to hear from you!" Savannah snapped.

Penelope sniffled. "I know, I know," she murmured. "I almost didn't call. But…but I just went into labor."

Savannah sucked in a breath. Of course Penelope was going into labor. It had to happen sometime. Her heart turned to stone in her chest, and she stared out the window. Hatred burned through her veins as she waited for Penelope to continue.

"I didn't want to call, but I – " Penelope stopped again, choking over her voice. She whimpered when she picked up again. "I'm alone and scared. I thought I could do this, but I can't. I – I need to talk to him."

Snorting, Savannah contemplated telling Penelope to go to hell. But as Penelope prattled on about being scared, an idea struck Savannah. It felt as though she had been slapped in the face by a professional boxer. Looking back toward her bedroom and the closed bathroom door.

"I told him after you disappeared about the baby, you know," Savannah said.

Penelope was silent for a moment. "I…you did?" she asked.

Savannah chewed on her lip. "Yeah," she lied, seamlessly weaving her lie. "He didn't seem all that thrilled. In fact, he was relieved you took off so he wouldn't have to deal with it."

The tears in Penelope's voice became evident. "Oh…well…can you just g – get him? I just want to tell him I'm having her now," she croaked, a soft sobbing following her question.

Here we go, Savannah thought. This was the final act of her revenge against her tormentor. "I'll pass along the message," she said with faux diplomacy. "He's in the shower right now. Don't expect him to come find you, though. He and I have been talking about renewing our wedding vows. Sort of like a way to start over after your little indiscretions."

Sniffling, Penelope replied, "I…thank you for telling him. I'm in a town called Harrington. There's only one hospital here."

"Fine," Savannah snapped. She hung up the phone without another word. She would never have done this to another person under usual circumstances. But this was no usual circumstance. Looking down at the phone, she erased all evidence of the phone call and went to return Derek's phone to the dresser.

As she set the phone down, the shower turned off in the master bathroom. She could not help but feel satisfied with herself. After what they did to her, she deserved this revenge, this chance at making the two of them suffer. If Derek knew about his baby – a daughter, apparently – Savannah knew, without a doubt, he would be out the door. It did not matter if he wanted children or not; he would be gone if he found out, if even just for an excuse to leave her.

The past months of his misery made it clear he would not hesitate to go.

Just what Fran would want, Savannah thought, bitter.

XXXXX

Aaron started packing his briefcase at seven o'clock in the evening, ready to go home to his sons and Emily. Declan and he had bonded quite well, and even though it had been less than six months since they brought him into their homes, he asked that he be able to call Aaron his dad.

A rare, wide smile crossed his face as he thought about his home life. What felt so fragmented and stilted without Emily in his life was stitching itself back together again. The boys were so far unaware he and Emily were spending time together; they thought they were having a sleepover and Emily was coming back in the morning.

It was a damn good thing they did not know what was going on while they were asleep.

As he smiled and packed, a soft knock sounded from his door. Not even looking up, he called out, "C'mon in!" He hoped it would be a short conversation so he could get out the door.

The door opened, and to his utter shock, a very surprising voice spoke. "Hello, Agent Hotchner."

When he looked up, Aaron found Fran Morgan standing in his doorway. Her face was pale, her eyes red and splotchy. The smile fell from Aaron's face. "Fran? What happened?"

Fran stepped into the room with hesitant steps, wiping her eyes as she closed the door behind herself. Aaron stepped around his desk and guided Fran to sit on the couch. He sat opposite to her in his armchair. Patiently, he waited for her to speak. In the meantime, he offered her a tissue.

Gladly accepting the tissue, Fran blew her nose before speaking. "I'm sorry to be here like this," she apologized.

Aaron shook his head. "No, don't apologize. Take your time."

She wiped her eyes again, shaking her head. "I don't know what to do about Derek," she finally admitted. "He's…not himself. I'm afraid he's going to run himself into the ground. Have you seen him?"

Of course Aaron had seen him. Morgan had been utterly miserable for the past few months. He went on cases as a ghost, and no one had seen him smile since…well, since Penelope left.

He nodded. "Yes," he said. "He's not doing great."

Fran shook her head. "It's more than that!" she wept. "He's gone. My son isn't there. Part of it is Savannah. I know it. The way she talks to him is just…" She paused to shake her head. "I know what he did was wrong. He should never have cheated on her. I just can't stand the way she's treating him. And he isn't saying anything to her, which I can't imagine makes her very happy. It breaks my heart."

Aaron remained silent. He had no idea of what to say. In truth, he had not seen Savannah in months. He could only imagine how she felt, and he had to use that imagination to see what Fran was describing.

"Have you tried to talk to Derek about this?" he finally asked. "If he'll listen to anyone right now, it's you. Without Garcia, you're the only one I can imagine getting

Fran bit her lip. "He misses her," she murmured. "He can't even stand to hear her name. I just wish he could find it in him to be happy. His house is miserable, and I'm only going to be there until tomorrow afternoon. He needs someone to break him out of this…well, whatever this is."

Somehow, Aaron had great doubts about how much influence he would have over Derek's mood. "I'll talk with him," he promised. "We'll figure out what to do."

XXXXX

"Morgan's mother stopped by to see me before I came home," Aaron murmured, running his hand up Emily's arm. They lay beneath the sheets at Emily's house, and the clock neared midnight.

Emily frowned beside him. "What was Fran doing there?" she asked, leaning up on her elbow.

"She's worried about Morgan," he said. "He's not just acting like a ghost at work."

"That's not surprising," Emily responded, laying her head against Aaron's chest again. "His life is sort of a mess right now."

"Got any bright ideas on how we could help him?" Aaron asked. He moved his hand up to run his fingers through the tips of her rumpled hair.

Arching a brow, Emily snorted. "Short of bringing Penelope back?" She shook her head. "No. She made her choice, and whether or not we think it's the right one, it's what she wants. We have to respect it." She sighed. "I miss her, though."

She looked away sheepishly, and Aaron nudged her gently. "What?" he asked. "You look like you have something you wanted to add to that."

"Well, I actually asked Kevin to try and find her," she admitted, biting her lip. "Not to go after her, but just to see where she was. You know…just in case something happened. Obviously, we didn't find her."

"She knows how to hide," Aaron sighed. "There's nothing we can do to change that."

She sat up again, a probing look on her face. "You don't think people can change? Even with what we do for a living?"

"Parts of us don't," he murmured. "I think we always remember who we tried to change from, and if something happens that sends us spiraling backward, we can revert to it like that." He snapped his fingers.

Emily's eyes narrowed. "Like I did when Doyle came after us?" she suggested, a challenge in her voice.

Aaron's forehead scrunched in confusion. "No, that's not what I'm saying at all," he said.

"Really?" she snapped. She arched a brow. "'Cause it sure sounds like you're saying that."

Frowning, he stopped. She had a point. When he remembered the words he had spoken to her, and realized he might have been implying something. "Okay, maybe unconsciously I was saying that. But that's not a bad thing, at least not in your case or Garcia's."

"Those are the darkest parts of our lives," Emily retorted. "How is that not a bad thing?"

Sighing again, Aaron rolled her beneath him and kissed her soundly. Her mouth against his was sweet, like drinking sugar water mixed with the essence of the wine they had drunk not two hours ago. She did not kiss him back, the way she would when she got annoyed with him. He stopped and rested their foreheads together.

With closed eyes, he held her tighter. "I love you, Emily," he murmured. "Whatever you've done in your past, it doesn't matter. You're you, and I'm a better man for knowing and loving you."

She did not say a word, and he feared she was going to ignore him for the rest of the night. Instead though, her body weight slid atop his. The warmth of her bare flesh, gently covering his, made his every nerve tingle with anticipation. His eyes flew open and met hers above him. Her dark eyes grew even darker with passion rising in them. Her lips turned upward in a small, seductive smile.

"Good," she whispered, dropping a kiss on his sternum. Slowly, purposely she trailed her lips up his chest, "Because I love you, too."

He groaned as her hand circled up and down his cock. She giggled as he closed his eyes, and the laugh glued itself in his ears. "Keep touching me," he growled. He claimed her lips again, moaning against her mouth.

Their lips broke apart, and she touched his forehead with the lightest of caresses. She traced her index nail around one of his nipples. The motion sent shocks up his spine, and he dug his nails into her hips. Above him, Emily lifted her hips so she could seat herself on him. He gasped, his hands coasting up her belly to her firm breasts.

Her hands rested flat against his chest, and she stared down at him. Their eyes remained connected as his hips rocked up off the bed. She swiveled her hips, jerking her head back as a shockwave of pleasure visibly ran through her.

His whole world sat above him, and he pulled her down toward him. He could not resist having her closer to him. Drowning in her was all he wanted. Emily, not oxygen, was what he required. The melting of their lips sent a comet of satisfaction blazing through him, and he never wanted to be separated from her again.

She let him have his satisfaction, even if it was only for a few moments. Suddenly, she ripped her mouth from his and returned to her position above him. She watched him, darkened pupils taking over her eyes completely. A ferocity and hunger he never saw in any other woman's eyes raged back at him.

"I want to see you," she purred, increasing the speed of her hips.

Aaron made no noise but a groan. His hands dug into her hips again, and the feeling of an impending orgasm started to creep through him. Even though he knew she loved being on top of him, though, he rolled her under him. He entangled their fingers, thrusting deeply into her to the point their hipbones touched. A breathy moan released from Emily's lips, and one of her hands went up to cup the back of his neck.

"Aaron!" she cried as her tight walls clenched around him.

The sound of his name ripping from her lips sent a reaction coursing through his body. Increasing the speed of his thrusts, Aaron drove into her twice more before exploding in a whirlwind of pleasure. He gritted his teeth as he rode out the waves of his orgasm and filled her to completion.

Collapsing beside Emily's sweaty body, Aaron kissed her temple and sighed. He pulled her close to him by the waist, nuzzling his face into her soft, lily-white neck. The two of them stared at the ceiling, remaining clasped together.

Neither needed to say a word. There were thousands of things to say, but Aaron and Emily did not feel the need to. The body heat shared between them, and the sheer comfort of one another's arms, was enough to know tell them both how much they loved the other, no matter who they had been in the past.

XXXXX

Penelope entered her daughter's nursery after just arriving home from the hospital. The room was not very big, but then again, neither was the house she was renting. In her carrier, her daughter slept soundly. Her eyes were shut, her little pink tongue poking out of her tiny lips.

Looking down at her lovingly, Penelope picked up her baby from the carrier and cradled her in her arms. Her little girl was about three weeks early, but she was absolutely perfect. Her skin had a beautiful caramel tone to it, a shade lighter than her father's, and she had wisps of delicate mahogany hair on the top of her head.

As she sat down in the chair she had bought for the nursery, the baby's eyes flickered open. Penelope had to swallow hard past the lump in her throat. Her daughter had Derek's eyes, too.

"Welcome home, sweetie," she murmured with a smile. Her daughter squirmed, letting out a cry in response. She smiled and unbuttoned her shirt to feed her. "You're just hungry, aren't you?"

While her daughter suckled at her breast, Penelope forced herself to focus solely on the baby in her arms. She knew the moment her mind began to wander she would be a mess of tears. Her labor had been long and painful, even with medication to dull the agony.

The worst part had not even been the fact she was alone. It was knowing Derek knew about their baby and had not come when Savannah had told him where she was. That brought her more pain than any hours she had spent in labor.

Stop thinking about him, Garcia, she scolded herself. You knew this was how he would react; you knew he didn't want kids.

Tears burned behind her eyes, clouding her vision as she refocused on her baby. To her dismay, her daughter slept soundly once more. She wished she could have something to focus on to avoid the painful emptiness that followed her everywhere now. Gently, Penelope kissed the little girl's forehead before she laid her in the crib.

With her empty arms, Penelope fell back into her chair. Her limbs could no longer withstand her weight, and she became faint. The silence of the house began to crush her, compressing her lungs until there was no hope of getting air.

He didn't care enough to even call? she thought, her chest tightening. Months had passed since she last cried over Derek, but with their daughter finally here, the pain became too great. Trickles of salty tears crawled down her cheeks. She sniffled, wiping her face. Surely Derek would want to know she was okay, even if he did not want to be in their child's life.

They had been best friends after all.

Curling up in the chair, she choked on a sob. She missed her old life and the people from it, but that life was over now. She needed to accept she would be alone. Now that Derek refused to contact her, she possessed the sign she needed to truly give up.

She rose from her seat to stand over her daughter's crib. Stroking her baby's cheek, she murmured, "It's just you and me, baby girl."

There was no looking back now.