AN: And now we are getting to the bottom of this problem... and headed towards a true Happily Ever After! Thanks for the reviews! Kricket

Penelope went back to the bar, which was not exactly a short hike from where she had been standing, arguing with Derek. He must have been furious, he dragged her for what seemed like miles. Really, it probably seemed a great deal longer, since she was fighting back tears and could barely see. For some reason, when Derek had told her not to cry, she really felt like she shouldn't. She didn't think she deserved to cry.

The more she thought, the worse she felt. She'd hurt him; she knew she did, and she felt like an ass for doing it. Derek had been nothing but wonderful and devoted to her for the majority of this vacation. Even looking back in Italy, it had been Luca making moves on Morgan, just like he had said, not the other way around. He wasn't completely innocent, but he didn't deserve this.

At the bar, she asked the bartender, a very kind woman, to call for a cab for her. The bartender, who's name was Alanza, had kept Penelope's many packages behind the bar, in hopes that she would come back for them, and was very sweet and kind, although her English was worse than Penelope's Spanish- and Penelope's Spanish was nothing to write home about.

The cab driver had picked her up at the bar and even had a sympathetic look for her when he'd opened the door for her. That had caused her to start crying even harder. Although he spoke English fluently, the cab driver had kept mostly silent, only speaking up to offer her a tissue here and there.

About a half hour later, the cab arrived at the villa. She paid the driver, giving a generous tip, then took her bags and herself up into the mansion. She left the bags outside the door, and gingerly went in search of Derek.

"M-morgan?" she called hesitantly. She didn't see him anywhere. She looked in the bedroom, the kitchen, everywhere. She started to worry that he left without her to go back to America. She cringed at that thinking; she knew Derek would never do that to her, no matter how justifiably angry he was at her.

She thought she saw some movement out on the veranda. She opened the French doors and saw Derek in one of the pool chairs, reading a paper. The sun was setting casting the patio in shades of orange and red, with just enough light to illuminate Derek's newspaper. The paper was in Spanish, however; Derek's Spanish was worse than Penelope's, so she knew he wasn't really reading it.

He lowered the paper. "Hey."

"Hey," she said, her voice barely over a whisper. Seeing him, seeing his beautiful chocolate eyes, made her throat start to close up again. She wanted to throw herself in his lap, beg forgiveness, and bawl for an hour.

Instead, she asked, "D-did you eat something?"

"Not very hungry."

Now she felt even worse. He was starving when they'd arrived at the bar, and they never did get to eat anything.

"Look, Garcia, I am really sorry I left you there," he began, his voice very calm. "It was an idiotic thing to do, and I'm sorry."

"No problem. It was broad daylight and I am a big girl who can take care of herself," she said quickly. He had no reason at all to apologize in her book!

His eyes narrowed, and he folded the paper and tossed it down on the little cafe table. "Yes, I almost forgot how little you need me."

He stood, and started to walk past her.

"Derek, you misunderstood me," she said quickly, following him.

He kept walking. "No, I get you crystal clear, babe."

Now she was pissed...and if there was one thing he should have remembered: having Penelope Garcia pissed at you was not a good thing.

"No, you dont!" She ran over to him and grabbed his arm hard, spinning him to make him face her. "You most certainly do NOT understand, and you really need to!"

He stared at her, obviously shocked. In spite of her high energy personality and emotional nature, she didn't get angry riled up very often.

"God, I have been beating myself up silly for the past two hours, worried to death about you, and you won't even listen!" She poked a finger into the middle of his chest. "Well, mister, now you're going to!"

To her surprise, Derek didn't move. He stood there, digesting what she said. Morgan gave her a falsely calm expression. She knew it was false; the muscle in his cheek was ticking. "Fine. Talk."

Now that some of the vinegar was out of her system and she had a literally captive audience, it was hard to get started. She wanted to tell him, wanted to pour her heart out, but didn't want to say it wrong. She decided to start at the beginning of the problem.

"At the bar, I was flirting with Ricardo, but it wasn't to get his attention, and it wasn't to make you jealous," she began. "It was for me."

"To have us both panting after you; I get it," he sneered.

"No, I-"

"I've done that with you before, Penelope," he snapped quickly. "I won't do it again."

Penelope wanted to stop and ask what in blue blazes that was about, but she tuned it out, because she wanted to finish what she had planned in her head. "No, it had nothing to do with either of you or any other man. It had everything to do with myself. It felt good to be desirable, to feel desired by handsome men. I wanted that feeling-"

"Okay. You wanted to feel hot. I understand-"

"No, Derek, you don't!" she cried, interrupting him. "Please be quiet and listen!"

He wisely kept quiet.

"You are the last person on earth who would understand what it feels like to be the chubbiest, or the nerdiest, or the ugliest person in a room." She looked up at him, pouring her heart into her words. "My whole life, I have had that feeling at different times-of being inadequate in some way. I have never really had the other feeling-like I had it all. You have it all the time, and you don't even realize it!

She looked away from him as tears clouded her eyes. "In Italy, in Spain... for the first time ever, I was the one everyone - even you - wanted. Me! Geeky, chunky,-"

"No," he said quickly, bringing his hands up to cup her face, effectively stopping her words. "Beautiful, intelligent, remarkable, brilliant, curvy, delicious, sexy, funny Penelope."

Her tears flowed down her cheeks freely. "I'm so sorry, D. I never would hurt you, not in a million years. You have to believe me. I just... I just..."

He held her in his arms then, and she cried, letting out a whole lot of pain, including some from years and years ago. He kissed the top of her head, then kissed her lips. "I'm sorry, too."

She sniffed. "What for?"

"I should've listened to you, I should've..." He stopped and gave a short bark of self-derisive laughter. "I have a lot of things I should've done, Penelope Garcia. I should've let you know how beautiful you are to me. I should've made you know what I think, that you're a goddess to me. I should've-"

"No, baby. You do," she whispered.

He held her face again in his hands, and said, "Why am I not enough, then?"

For a moment, the vulnerability she saw in his eyes shook her to the core. She'd never known Derek to be vulnerable about anything. Here, he was raw, hurting, and feeling like less than enough.

"No, Derek," she said fiercely. "You are enough."

"Baby Girl, I know I have never been your first choice, but I promise you: I will love you like no other man ever can." He lowered his forehead to hers. "I always have, and I always will."

Always. She thought about that. Him saying I love you after she was shot, him being there every moment, before and after, all of his flirting and teasing...

She brought her hands up to his cheeks and smiled at him. "I have news for you, mister: you are my only choice, from now on. Got that?"

He smiled. "Got it."

"Good," she said, giving him a quick kiss. "Now, let's go make sandwiches, and then you can carry this goddess off to bed."

Laughing, he reached for her hand and brought her to the kitchen. "Yes, ma'am."