AN: Thanks for the reviews—You guys are the best!...As for the story...These are my favorite two chapters of this whole story coming up...

Chapter 8

"Penelope wants what?" Derek asked, stopping in the middle of tying his shoes to glare at his phone in confusion. He'd been getting ready to work out when he'd gotten an emergency text from Kevin Lynch. Normally, he would ignore anything that came from the direction of Lynch, but he'd put, Call ASAP—It's about Penelope—URGENT!

Derek had just about had enough of Kevin Lynch to last a lifetime. He was truly regretting ever helping the man in the first place, but seeing the smile on Garcia's face had made it all worthwhile. She'd seemed overjoyed over the first few gifts he'd asked her about. So if he had to help the stupidest man on the planet learn how to be more worthy of Penelope—but never worthy enough, in Derek's eyes—he'd do it...no matter how torturous it was.

That's what best friends were for, after all...

"A sonnet," Lynch said flatly. "She wanted a sonnet."

"Why the hell does she want that?" Derek asked, completely flabbergasted. Why would P want some nineteenth century gift?

"Penelope stopped by my office at lunchtime today," he said, sounding nervous again. "She said I was being so romantic and so sweet, and had improved so much, it wouldn't surprise her in the least if I wrote her a sonnet."

Derek chuckled, shaking his head at Lynch's dramatics. "That wasn't requesting a sonnet. That was just saying—"

"Oh, no, no, no, no," Kevin interrupted. "On the contrary, my dear Agent Morgan. She said it with that smile she does with some thing with her eyes...You know, the one that shows it's something she really wants."

Derek frowned. He had to give it to Lynch on that one. He knew the look exactly. It was a Southern Belle-style smile, complete with batting eyelashes, that got him to get up and get the popcorn refill at the movie theater every time. He had a hard time saying no to that; he couldn't really fault Lynch for it.

"All right," Derek replied with a sigh. "I guess you have to write her one, then."

"Oh, man," Kevin whined. "Really?"

Derek's patience was running paper thin. So much so, he didn't trust himself to be around Kevin most of the time. He wanted to throttle Lynch for not appreciating being with the most fantastic, beautiful, incredible woman Derek had ever known. Didn't that stupid fuck realize how lucky he was?

Was it every day someone as caring as Penelope came into Lynch's life? Did he know a lot of people who gave unconditionally, loved beyond measure, and warmed the heart of everyone who was fortunate enough to know them? If so, Lynch was one lucky SOB.

Because in Derek's life, there was only one Penelope.

"Yes, really!" he snapped, standing and pacing in the locker room. "What the hell is the matter with you? Can't you write what you know, how you feel? Do you feel anything at all?"

Lynch sounded nervous. "I do..."

"Then do it."

"I kinda have to, don't I?" Kevin asked, with that accusatory tone that grated on Derek's ears. "Now that you've painted me out to be something more than I am, she expects it of me."

Derek stopped pacing. His tone was low, warning Lynch that he was treading on thin ice. "Are you actually blaming me for fixing your shortcomings?"

"No," he said simply, ignoring the warning. "I'm just saying that if I hadn't done all of this, she wouldn't—"

"Not another word," Derek interrupted with a snarl. "Just write it."

"You make it sound so easy!" Kevin snapped back. "It isn't."

"It is!" he shouted. "Damn, man, you sound like a robot!" Derek rubbed the back of his aching neck, trying to get the stress knots out. "I can name a million things about that girl that make her special. Hell, if I could sing, I could put it in a fuckin' song, and I'm only her best friend. It shouldn't be that hard for you."

"Some of us aren't born with the ability to seduce and cajole like you are, Agent Morgan," Kevin replied coolly.

Derek was aghast. "Lynch, do you think I can do this about just any woman?"

"Of course."

"Hell, no," Derek answered with an incredulous laugh.

There was a long pause, one that made Derek look at the phone and see if it disconnected, but then Kevin spoke.

"Why Penelope, then, Agent Morgan?" Kevin asked rather calmly. "How come you can do it for her?"

There was no animosity in his voice, just questioning. It surprised him, since most of the time, Derek battled with Lynch verbally.

Derek ran a hand over his face. "I don't know," he said, and then sat on the hard bench in the locker room again. He sighed heavily. "I can do it for her because she is unlike any other woman I have ever known. She's genuine, warm, caring...not just to me, but to everyone she meets. She's the best friend I'll ever have." He gave a short, self-derisive chuckle, and said, "She's a helluva lot better than I deserve."

He paused, closing his eyes and picturing her eyes, her smile, and how he felt every single time she gave him that precocious grin. He felt like he could fly.

God, she was incredible.

No, she was more than that...She was his everything.

Lost in his thought, his voice was low and soft when he spoke again. "She's my God-given solace. She takes away my pain and makes me laugh when I think I'd forgotten how. That's Penelope to me."

Both men were silent for a long time. Derek was digesting what he'd just said, amazed that the words had come so simply and easily. He knew exactly why they had, too. A reason that didn't sit well with him at all. He'd been down that road with her before, and she'd chosen the bumbling idiot he was schooling right now.

He nearly snorted with his thoughts. Lynch wasn't the idiot...he was.

Only idiots fell in love with their best friend...over and over and over again.

He cleared his throat and tried to adopt a devil-may-care tone. "See? Simple as that."

"I think you should do it," Kevin said quickly, almost like he forced the words out. "Yes. You should do it."

"I am not writing that fucking sonnet for you!"

"No," Kevin said shortly, "but you'll write it for Penelope, won't you?"

"Go to hell."

"I am in hell..." Kevin replied sulkily, letting his words drift off.

Derek frowned again. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It doesn't matter," Kevin said calmly but sharply. "Listen...I know you do not want to hurt Penelope's feelings, but I can't do this. If you don't write it—with a lot of what you'd just said—she'll know this has been a sham, and she'll be heartbroken."

"Lynch, this is way, way, way off base," Derek replied, but his gut swam with the sinking feeling that Lynch was right. Penelope could take it the wrong way...and the last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt, because he was trying to stop her from getting hurt. That would be too cruel of an irony for him.

Kevin insisted. "No, it isn't. It's necessary."

"Shit."

"Come on, Morgan," Kevin chided. "You know I can't do it."

"You are a fucking lousy student, Lynch."

"Great!" Kevin said, the tone of superiority in his voice showing Derek he knew he'd won. "Just bring the letter to me tomorrow."

Before Derek could say another word, Lynch hung up the phone.

Derek sighed and looked over at his gym bag. He ran a hand over his face, before picking the bag up. Reaching in, he grabbed a pad and paper. Shortly thereafter, he began to write.

To my Penelope...