Past, Present and… Future?

A series of conversations with her co-workers propels Penelope to her next Saturday night with David.

Slight spoilers for S1E11, S1E14

Thanks to my sweet, beautiful beta Sunny. In short order she's become my confidant, brainstorm partner and sister. I am the luckiest girl alive!

XXXXXXXXXX

Penelope walked toward work from the metro - the building that was practically all windows after the wall of black granite infill of the street level. She took in the dawn hitting the trees and planters in front of FBI Headquarters. She enjoyed the green, oxygenated environment before entering the sleek interior of her workplace.

She walked through the revolving front doors, waited and passed through security to the elevators… still daydreaming about David. It had been almost three months of simply the best Saturday nights. The best Saturday nights she could remember in a long time.

She had only missed two due to work, which was probably about par. She should have missed three, because one week she had been so tired she fell asleep while David was finishing dinner. She woke almost four hours later, ate a reheated plate of linguini and went home. She had asked for forgiveness but David took it all in with grace, only saying how much he enjoyed watching her sleep on his couch.

Now she could dreamily think about their standing Saturday night dates. She continually wanted hold on to the feeling of his kisses until one day - hopefully soon - she could also have his kisses on Sunday mornings. How nice would that be? All her brain power recently was spent thinking about their increasingly heated exchanges and how she wanted to be so much closer to him. She could barely stand it.

XXXXXXXXXX

Derek Morgan had noticed his co-worker Miss Penelope Garcia had a little *more* pep in her step lately. He found himself protective and sweet on her - as a good friend. So he decided it was time to figure out what she was so… enthusiastic about these days.

Monday morning rolled around and he greeted her with his customary "Good morning," and waited for her reply. Instead of 'I'll show you a good morning, Hot Stuff'… but today he got a grin and a 'yeah'.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa Baby Girl… hold up."

Penelope stopped in her tracks. She should've known better than to not have her guard up, coming into work. Damn profilers.

She took a deep breath, put on her sunniest smile and turned around. "Yes, my Exquisite Chocolate God… how may I help you this morning?"

Morgan approached her with stealth, although he knew damn well she saw him coming right at her.

"So… where exactly is your head, Miss Thang?"

"Just… thinking," Penelope sputtered. "You know, it's Monday. Monday stuff. I'm thinking about what I have to do for the day." She concentrated on keeping the smile firmly painted on her face.

Morgan hummed. "Interesting." He sidled up close to her. "You *thinking* has never kept you from greeting me before." He leaned in and whispered to her. "I think you're thinking about some*one*, if I were to venture a guess."

Penelope was saved from answering when Hotch asked Morgan to meet with him. However that didn't save her completely as Morgan continued trying to extract information from her, on and off throughout the day. In response she focused on standing, or sitting, wherever she was as she smiled and batted her eyelashes. She didn't say a word. Because if she said one word, many more - too many - would inevitably follow.

As loose as her lips were with other people's secrets - ahem, sometimes - she found herself fiercely protective of this, for herself. Protective of David as a person and protective of their time together. She - surprisingly - didn't have any desire to spill anything to her co-worker. Unsure what it was or wasn't going to be - she was going to be watchful over it as long as it was… something.

Finally, toward the end of the day, she did her best to shut him down. "Derek, it's really nothing for you concern yourself with," Penelope asserted. She took a deep breath, smiling again, and patted him on the shoulder. She turned on her heel and left without another word.

XXXXXXXXXX

Penelope should have known that if Morgan noticed something, JJ could have noticed something too. Or, at the very least Morgan asked JJ about the something he thought he noticed. A couple of weeks later during their second or third newly-instituted Friday Girl Lunches, she found herself the topic of JJ's eager questioning.

She could have closed JJ off. But it felt like an opportunity to 'bond' with her colleague, who would hopefully become a real friend. And talking with her seemed so different than talking with Morgan. For example, JJ wouldn't try to find David and beat him up. She had the feeling that wasn't necessarily a given with Derek.

"So… you've been smiling a lot lately," JJ started.

"Duh, JJ. I smile, like, all of the time!" Penelope gushed. At the same time it felt like the air changed around them and their little table.

"This is a *different* kind of smile, my dear."

"I have no idea what you mean," Penelope deflected and looked around, supposedly for their server.

JJ just waited - quiet, calm and kind. She had infinite patience. JJ had more patience in her little finger than Penelope had in her entire body.

"Okay fiiiiine… I met someone…"

"I *knew* it! Morgan *so* owes me twenty bucks."

"You're betting on *me* and my dating life? That's something we should do to like… Morgan! Or Reid for that matter!"

"Huh. Fat chance on Spence. Okay, anyway. Tell me! Tell me! Details, please!"

Penelope took a deep breath and couldn't stop the smile dawning on her face. "He bought me a glass of wine at a jazz club. We've had dinner a few times." She thought her drink looked infinitely interesting at the moment.

"You have *so* seen him more than a few times, but I'll let you get away with that. Who is he? What's he like? Is he nice?"

"Oh, JJ… I really don't want to get into it too much. It's still so new, it's so *perfect*. We're taking things… slow," she inferred. "I feel like if I talk about it, it's going to go *poof* and disappear!"

JJ looked to be basking in the story. "Come on, Penelope. Something!"

Penelope sighed. "Uuuuugh. It's so hard not to talk! Okay!" She knows she can trust JJ and it might be nice to tell *someone* a *little* about David… without telling too much. "Okay. He's… handsome. Incredibly handsome," she thinks she actually swooned. "He cooks. Like, really-well. Um… he buys me these sweet bouquets of flowers…"

"Those ones on your desk!?"

"Yeah…" Penelope grinned and shied away.

"I knew you didn't buy those for yourself, either."

"I guess I wasn't being as sneaky as I thought, huh?"

"Eh," JJ gave. "The rest of the team aren't the only ones who can profile," JJ winked. They smiled at each other for a beat while their server delivered their lunches. "Well thank you for telling me a little about your mystery man."

"It was fun to tell you about him. I don't want to jinx it."

"I understand… I won't share with anyone… and Morgan came to me with the bet, by the way," she smirked and they both tucked into their food.

XXXXXXXXXX

The team had returned from Florida after Gideon had watched Sarah Jane Dawes executed earlier that morning. They all slowly but surely finished up their reports during the course of the day, other files and eventually filed out to go home.

Except Gideon. Gideon had disappeared mid-day and no one seemed to know where.

This case had an impact on Gideon, more so than usual, it seemed to Penelope. He was more intent, more communicative, more driven to find answers about Dawes' son Riley. Gideon wanted to save the mother from what he was sure was an unwarranted death penalty.

Yet, a stay from the governor wasn't imminent and while Derek and Elle had found the boy in the nick of time… Sarah Jane convinced Agent Jason Gideon to let her go, for her son. She wanted to spare her son the horror of knowing who his parents were and had made peace with dying.

Penelope stayed later, determined to finish up every possible little thing she could so that she was less-likely to be called tomorrow, which was Saturday. She sighed fancifully and smiled at the thought of getting to spend another Saturday night with David.

One of the items she was wrapping up with a neat little bow was delivering a 2"x3" photo of Sarah Jane to Gideon's desk. He generally asked for a photo of the victim for some reason, and Penelope did not want to risk being called in to print it off tomorrow. She was just going to put it on his desk then she would be done.

Entering his office, she felt a slight tug for the senior profiler. She looked down at the picture - a younger woman at a kinder time in her life: a wispy blonde bob, eyes an ocean blue. She placed it, in the middle, on top of everything. Maybe Gideon did have feelings, maybe even a heart.

Oh of course he had a heart, thought Penelope. He had gotten her flowers a few weeks before, as a thank you for being a colossal pain in her ass while working on the Tennessee case from her lair. It had been another case where a sweet child was at the mercy of a mother - and this time, not his and not a kind, selfless mother. Looking around at the surfaces of his office now, they seemed to be as he was: cluttered, complicated yet somehow necessary.

The photos on the credenza to her left caught her attention. Gideon had told her they were 'sort of' his family, when she had come to express gratitude for the flowers. Anyone who knew her knew her definition of family was broad and inclusive… and then she wondered how well she and Gideon really knew each other.

Penelope turned to peruse the framed photographs. Most looked to be from recent-enough years. Candids at home - a grandpa with a young boy in his lap. Snapshots from picnics and parties - gowns and tablecloths and cakes. Trips and different terrains - the mountains, the desert. There were individual photos of people who may have been colleagues, as they looked to be official government-issued portraits.

One young man seemed to pop up frequently. Sometimes with others close-by, other times by himself. He was in coveralls, learning to walk. He was in t-ball uniform with a bat slung over his shoulder. In another he was on a bike and another surrounded by trees in a camp t-shirt.

Then there was one photograph from a completely different time. It had turned sepia in color from wear and light. The photo was three men, posed in front of what seemed to be their building - when it was practically brand new. There was a bench, but no mature trees or planters like there were today.

One man has wavy hair, a really dirty blonde that looks to be highlighted from the Virginia summer. He has a wide smile and deep dimples. He's wearing dress pants and dress shirt with the first couple of buttons undone at the top. He seems to draw in the people around him. His demeanor drips with charisma.

Another man is wearing a colorful Oxford shirt with a dark v-neck sweater and canvas jacket over it all. His hair is brown with a tight curl, giving him a cute white man's afro. He had longer sideburns, displaying a forehead that betrays his years. Slender eyebrows, his eyes hold light and dance around their surroundings. He's smirking a bit and biting one corner of his lip. Plainer features, but intent.

The third man is in a crisp white dress shirt, tie and vest that matches his suit jacket. It looks too expensive for how young his baby face appears. His dark hair is slicked back, perfectly coiffed. Just-long-enough-but-not-too-long - ever - if she were to guess. His dark, inquisitive eyes are deep - like she couldn't see where they started and definitely not where they ended. His 5 o'clock shadow already hints across his face, although it looks like it's mid-day. He isn't quite smiling, nor is he frowning… he looks like a very serious, polished fellow.

She hummed appreciatively. One of them certainly has to be Gideon. If she were to guess… he was the one with the smirk.

"Hey," comes from the doorway.

"Hey," she returns to their team leader. Hotch comes over to her, to see what she's holding.

"Ah… the founding members of the BAU, right there," he looks closer. "Look at those baby faces!"

"Wow," Penelope admired. "They started all of this?" She asked rhetorically, gazing out at the empty bullpen. "We have two teams, dozens of agents and support personnel," she paused. "That's pretty cool."

"That it is," Hotch spent a quiet moment. "Now, what are you still doing here when everyone is already gone for the day?"

"Oh, just finishing up a couple things. Dropped something off for Gideon," she motioned back to his desk.

"I hope you have a good weekend, Garcia," he offered and left.

Penelope smiled and took another half minute to consider the photograph. She wasn't sure if it was the history it represented or implied nostalgia… but it made her smile. Particularly that man in the three-piece suit. She could get lost in those eyes.