An Epic First Meet

Cara - "Dear"

Penelope Garcia wondered how she ended up here. It was akin to the Twilight Zone. One minute she was living happily underground in the dark corners of the intrawebs - hacking and sleuthing and spelunking (always for good!)… and then she was caught. Another minute came along she was facing trouble - real honest-to-god trouble - like, prison-type trouble… and then she was being offered a job at the FBI the next.

And, that was alright! She got to the BAU and got to work on some cool stuff. She enjoyed the people she worked with. They were, for the most part, fun and personable. She had fun at work - she provided information so the team of heroes could go out and catch the bad guys.

She primarily dealt with Aaron Hotchner, boss man, and Derek Morgan, a chiseled physique of chocolatey goodness. The rest of the team was nice-enough as well - she just hadn't made 'friends' with any of them perse. There wasn't anyone to just vent to, to go out with, to do movie nights with… she wasn't sure she'd ever have that. But maybe some day.

Today, she had had a day. Or a series of days. She can't even remember anymore. Any way she looked at it, today was definitely a less-than-sparkly day. And she was over it.

Agent Jason Gideon had pushed her over the edge! She generally, almost-always had set up her office workstation meticulously. Even though she a fun and furry friends keeping her company by way of tiny trolls and kitties and squishy-balls… everything was clean, spacious and well-organized. Everything was functional, pretty and had it's place.

But he had all but ruined that in a matter of a couple of days! He was constantly in her personal space, his coffee cups and takeout containers left stains and rings everywhere, he had books and maps and blueprints and photos strewn about - the entire time the team was gone! What did he think computers were for anyway?

At any rate, that is how Penelope came to find herself at the Basin Street Lounge in Old Alexandria. She wanted to get away, but not too far, but be lost in the dulcet tones of really good jazz and blues… and have access to really good wine. She had put this on her 'places to visit' list when she moved here - and tonight was it. Floor-To-Ceiling curtains hung around the room, the soft lights in the cool tones of pinks and purples brought her comfort. The heavy cherry of the bar gave her solace and seemed to support her mood tonight.

"May I join you?" a roguishly handsome man asked her as he pulled out the barstool beside her. She looked around and most of the spaces were already taken at the bar - what else was she supposed to say?

"Of course," and she tried her best to give a welcoming smile to the stranger. She was unsure, literally, if she was successful or not. And then she realized she hoped he hadn't been - she really just wanted to be by herself.

Gasp! Penelope took a sharp intake of breath and clamped a hand over her mouth. Oh my gosh - me, Penelope Garcia, am truly un-sparkly tonight. She slumped on her barstool and put her chin in her other hand. She sighed inwardly, may have heard it squeak out a bit, but went about sipping on her wine.

She sat for some time trying to come to terms with being in an un-sparkly mood. She probably should have gone home to change, first of all. She was in a rust-colored blouse and a muted tweed jacket. She looked more dressed for fall professional than listening-to-fun-jazz sort of night outfit. On the other hand… her blouse did show off her ample bosom quite well and she did have a few pieces of chunky and fun jewelry on.

Sigh. That wasn't it. She did think her hair did look nice-enough though. Medium-barrel spiral curls were holding up and her lipstick. Her lipstick was always on-point. She sighed again and closed her eyes. She listened to the music and continued to sip her wine.

The band finished their set and informed the room they were going to take a break. Penelope turned toward stage to applaud and turned back to examine the end of her glass of wine.

"Another, please, Rick," the gentleman next to her was gesturing to the two of them for another round.

Penelope sat up, brought out of her reverie. "Oh, well, thank you, sir. That's very nice of you," she again went for the sweet smile.

"'Sir'?" He groaned. "Ouch!" and he covered his heart with his hand, feigning catastrophe.

Penelope looked up and didn't even have a comeback. Un-sparkly evening for her indeed.

He continued for them. "Could we maybe go with 'Dave'? That would make my heart feel much, much better." He extended a hand toward this ravishing young woman beside him. Hoping to at least get her name.

She sensed what was a genuine smile on her lips, however small, appear. "Why yes, Dave, we certainly can. I'm Penelope." She shook his hand and they lingered longer than necessary, in a delightful way.

The bartender brought their next round and Dave held his new glass up. "Very nice to meet you, Penelope." They both smiled and took a drink. Penelope sighed, her mind so blank still, she felt a little handicapped.

They sat in companionable silence, yet together this time. The band returned to the stage and opened up their second set of the evening. Dave waited a few numbers in before asking his first real observation of the evening.

"So, Penelope. I might be wrong. But I sense that this is a rather quiet evening for you… perhaps a bit… contrary to your normal disposition."

She looked into his warm, dark eyes. She considered his dark, full head of hair. There were tiny patches of silver at his temples and throughout his goatee. It was otherwise dark and luscious and a little bit wavy. She found her fingers itching to comb through it. She was concentrating on this while taking in his comment. She was distracted.

"That's not really a question, is it?" she countered.

"Well, no, I guess it's not. I just find myself… intrigued by you," he smiled, showing the ghost of a dimple that might appear if he weren't careful. He leaned in a tiny bit toward her and she did the same.

Her breath came a tiny bit easier, for some reason. She straightened up and forged forward. Something about him intrigued her, too. "I guess you could say I've had a little bit of a week. …and yes. This evening I am decidedly less-sparkly than usual." She gave him a small smile… but at least this time it felt sincere.

The music held their attentions for a time. Dave quietly shared various pieces of trivia about the music the band was playing. The bartender, Rick, brought another round for them. Dave must have somehow signaled to him to keep them coming. Soon enough, the band was taking another break.

She turned back to her accidental-companion for the evening and continued to take note of him. His skin was clean-shaven and rich… he had almost a honey-toned complexion. Cuban? Italian maybe? His lips looked smooth… and soft. And besides that head of hair? He had the darkest, really prettiest eyes she'd seen on a man.

"It's Saturday night. They'll be back for a third, shorter set to round out the evening," Dave shared. "Are you up to staying?" He smiled an interesting combination of shy and sexy.

"Yeah, I am. I have a brand-new glass of wine to enjoy," she crooned. It almost felt like she was relaxing. It was likely the alcohol.

"So, tell me, Penelope, what is it you do for a living?"

Ah, here we go, down to the nitty-gritty. She was really enjoying just this casual, non-work, almost-flirtation thing they had going on. And she'd really like to keep it that way.

"I am… in IT… just normal, run-of-the-mill stuff. How about you?"

"Oh, I'm retired. I was lucky to get out early," Dave shared. "Former cop." And there's the look of realization. She's not scared of cops, that's good. She's someone who feels safe around law-enforcement. Hurdle cleared. "So what happened at work today to get you all melancholy?"

This was a story she could tell! "See, I have this… coworker… who for lots of reasons… had to work in my space with me this week. And UGH," she grunted. "By the end of the week he had left three boxes of crap in my office! It was awful, just all over the place!" That drew a hearty laugh from the older man. And somehow, his laugh made her smile. "Oh that's funny!? He also magically made everything smell like soy sauce! Seriously! It still permeated everything in the room when I left!" Dave was still laughing at her story. She was starting to feel a tiny bit sparkly again.

"Really, I'm going to have to go in this weekend just to air it out again!" she mumbled under her breath, maybe playing up how disgruntled she really was.

"Cara, cara, cara," Dave resolved her laughter for himself. "This is more of what I expected. I knew there was more light behind those beautiful eyes than what was showing when I sat down." He took the hand closest to him, pausing for permission, brought it to his lips. The soft kiss was innocent… and it lingered.

"Oh!" She giggled. The sound of her own giggle caught her off-guard. They continued a more conversational tone after that. They traded points of trivia with each other. Penelope loves David Bowie. She dropped out of Cal-Tech but has otherwise finished her bachelor's. She volunteers to help families who have experienced trauma. Likewise, David likes to duck hunt with his chocolate lab Mudgie, appreciates great scotch and even better cigars, host parties and writes in his spare time.

When they were leaving the restaurant David walked Penelope to her car, having gingerly taken her hand to wrap in the crook of his arm. He checked in with her that she was okay to drive and she asserted she was. "You know, Penelope," he continued, "I've really wanted to kiss you all evening," David whispers as he senses they're getting to Penelope's car, her cadence slowing.

That's ridiculously sweet. She's touched, and humored. "Well then," she stops when they reach her car. "Why the hell haven't you?" She smirks and wow the glint she's seeing reflected in his eye, along with the butterflies in her stomach, are pairing for a delightful combination.

He reaches up with his hands, framing her face as he carefully reaches forward for her lips. The kiss is sweet and chaste for a few beats. They both open eyes to check-in with each other. They smile.

The next numerous minutes of kissing are not chaste. One hand of David's migrates into her curls, the other moves to her hip. She mirrors him and they're closer than they've been all evening.

Without breaking their bodily connection, David kisses her cheek and finds a way to make eye contact. "I'm out of town as of tomorrow morning. Have dinner with me next Saturday night."

She digs out her personal calling card out of her purse and hands it to him. She nods and can't keep the grin off her face. "I look forward to it," she unlocks her car and lets him help her close the door. She's still flying high by the time she arrives home.