Chapter 3

AN: Thanks for the reviews! I don't think I will be able to post for a couple of days-got some things going on-so surprise! Double post today...

It wasn't going very well.

Derek hadn't realized until he'd started this quest how many extremely ineligible women he dated. Oh, they were eligible for fun, eligible for a good time, eligible for a fast fuck, but none he'd gone out with so far were even remotely close to being a good candidate for being a mother to his children.

He'd thought he had a system that even Reid would think was well organized...

He had two little address books—ironically, neither were black in color—that he used for dating. The first book he'd tossed out completely. They were the most ineligible of the ineligible women. He had a rating scale, and those women rated on the scale from either very easy to downright kinky. He rarely went out with the bunch in that first book, but every once in a while…well, even a player gets desperate!

The second book, his more normal girlfriends, were his most real options. He'd had longer relationships with them. He remembered they were all pretty, all nice, all single and fun. Usually, he couldn't exactly remember why they broke up, but he thought the majority he had parted amicably from. That seemed more important to him than the semantics of the break up.

He tried Tasha Alexander first. Tasha had been a girlfriend from back when he first started in the FBI in 2003. She'd been athletic (he'd grinned when he saw his side note: 34-24-34) and—if he recalled correctly—pretty funny. He'd been hoping that maybe she would want to rekindle a relationship.

"Hello?"

Derek smiled. She had a beautiful voice, too. He hadn't remembered that. "Tasha? It's Morgan. Derek Morgan."

"Derek! How nice to hear from you!" She paused, and then shouted, "Aiden! Christopher! Get off the couch."

That lead him to finding out Tasha Alexander was now Tasha Cartwright, was married, and had three lovely children.

That finding had driven him to cross off anyone he hadn't dated in seven years.

The next woman he'd tried had been Antoinette Colbert. Toni had been a fun person to date. He'd gone out with her just two years ago. She'd seemed like a decent person and had a nice laugh. He'd called, his hopes up.

"Hi, Derek. What have I been up to?" She giggled her adorable laugh. "About two hundred, right now!"

"Huh?"

She giggled again. "I'm nine months pregnant! My husband Tom and I are expecting twins."

That lead him to Denise Dansing. He'd called her number and found out she'd moved to Florida.

When he made it to the L's with four more pregnancies, three more moves, two more marriages, one prison sentence (he really wasn't expecting that—Heidi Hellerman was a gentle nurse!), he started thinking he should have Garcia run everyone in his black books through her background checks for eligibility!

Dana Laurente. He hadn't remembered her at all, but he'd tried her out of pure desperation. He'd dialed the number.

"Derek."

At first, there was complete silence...and then—far, far too late—he remembered exactly why he hadn't called Dana back.

Soon, all hell broke loose. "Wow. I can't believe you would have the nerve to call! You—"

He sat there, listening. He admittedly deserved it. He'd dated Dana...and her twin sister at the same time. He couldn't tell the difference! After much backpedaling, he finally got off the phone, and nearly threw his book in the trash.

He'd decided not to give up hope compeltely. He'd narrowed it down to women he'd dated in the past year, and it still looked terrible. Mostly because the women he'd dated in the past year were from book number one...

The main problem was Derek didn't date women for relationships. He had a relationship for emotional warmth and stability—a best friendship with Garcia. He didn't need to find that caring and compassion in a lover. Everything else was emotional strings he could rarely afford to nurture.

Primary example was Tamara Barnes. He'd tried to go out with her, he'd promised to call her back and make a relationship, and he'd failed miserably. He didn't have the time, and he hadn't made the time. Derek hated failing, so he chose girlfriends based on how they could pleasure him, not their affect on his heart.

It wasn't a huge loss, anyway. The women he'd dated rarely made any impact on his heart. Only one woman—besides his blood relatives—loved him unconditionally, and therefore, was the only one who really counted.

He'd finally found a few women still eligible...who were completely wrong after he went out with them. A last ditch effort, tonight he was set to go out with Katherine Wagner. Kitty was a gorgeous redhead who'd been fantastic in bed and, if he remembered right, seemed genuine enough.

Then he'd called her on the phone.

"Derek, I'm sooooo glad you called," she moaned, her voice a low purr of pure sexuality. "This Kitty really needs your style of loving. Ready to stroke a Kitty, Derek?"

He'd done what he'd never done before…he'd hung up on a woman.

He'd forgotten completely what she was like. He'd only been out with her three times, and then for some reason, he'd stopped calling her. He couldn't remember why. It was right after he...

It was after Alaska.

Garcia had witnessed a murder, and he'd been there to hold her and help her pick up the pieces. He'd understood what had happened up there, what happened to her as a person, far more than anyone else. Derek had been too busy with Garcia to foster any relationship—even a purely sexual one. She'd needed him, and he'd been more than happy to be there for her.

Now, after four disastrous dates with women only slightly better than Kitty, and what felt like a million horrible phone calls, Derek felt truly alone.

Turning around in his chair, he took the picture of Garcia off his shelf and took a good look at it. She'd gone home for the day, and he really, seriously needed someone to talk to. He didn't want to call her and bother her, she couldn't do anything at eight pm on a Thursday, anyway.

It was a desperate thing to do, but no one was ever going to see. He held her picture, looked her straight in the eyes like he would if she were there...and he poured his heart out.

"Baby Girl, I'm floundering. For the first time in my adult life, I don't have a clue what to do. Every one of my past girlfriends are completely wrong. I picked miserably. None of them are a wife candidate, much less a mom candidate." He swallowed hard and put the picture down. "Hell. With my past, I guess I'm not really a daddy candidate, either."

He picked the picture back up so he could put it back in it's place. He gave a short chuckle. "Hey, momma, wanna look that up in your computer, see if you can work your magic with it and fix me?"

As he reached for the shelf, he stopped in his tracks completely as an idea struck.

Computer.

Computer dating.

Garcia.

"Oh, hell, yes," he said with a grin, before picking up his phone and dialing her number.

"Hot Stuff, why are you still—Kevin, the pizza is burning!—why are you still in the office?" she asked. She watched as her boyfriend continued to play Call of Duty, not acknowledging her words at all.

Scoffing, she stood, heading towards his kitchen, and opened the now smoky oven, while Derek spoke.

"I'm going to go on a computer dating site."

She paused, reaching for the scorching hot pizza. "Ow!" she cried, sucking on her first finger that touched the hot cheese.

"What? Baby, you okay? What happened?"

"Nothing," she answered, smiling a little at Derek's panicky tone. The man was a worrywart sometimes! "Burned my finger. No big deal."

"Put it up to the phone, and I'll kiss it," he said.

She giggled. "Silly boy. It's all good. Now, what is up with you? Computer dating? Derek, you've never had a problem getting—"

"I've never had a problem picking the wrong girls, angel," he quipped. "That is where the computer website comes in handy. They choose for me—but I have an even better idea."

She felt a foreboding feeling come over her. She had a feeling that whatever he was going to say next wasn't going to be great in her book. "Okay…"

"I was thinking if I found a match, I could go on a double date with you, and you can—"

"Derek, I am so not picking a woman for you!" she interrupted vehemently. The man was insane!

"You wouldn't be picking; you'd just give me your general consensus."

"D—"

"If you saw the women I've been through, you'd see why my confidence is shaken," he said flatly. He waited a minute, then sighed and said softly, "Baby, this matters so much to me. I need you. Please."

Penelope sighed. She closed her eyes, thinking that this was indeed a terrible idea. Still, she couldn't say no. He'd been there for everything she'd ever needed, far more than Kevin, far more than JJ or Emily. He'd even offered to kiss her new owie on her finger…and Kevin hadn't said a word, even though she'd screamed loudly.

Bottom line: he was her best friend. He needed her. End of story.

"Frack," she grumbled.

Derek laughed and hooted. "I knew you'd be on board! Thanks, Baby Girl."

She giggled in spite of herself. "Just let me know when we're going."

"Goodnight, angel," he murmured. "I love you."

"I love you, too, D."