A/N: I am owning nothing. Bah. CBS is owning all, and is holding M & G love hostage.

I know nothing about the IVF/Donor process, so bear with me and my interwebz research.

Penelope sent a quick text to Hotch to let him know she had a morning appointment and would be in late. Nervously, she drove to Dr. Mead's office and checked in, then sat impatiently in the waiting room. Dr. Mead was an OB/GYN, and thus her waiting room was a haven of fecundity; parenting magazines were strewn on tables, and young, expecting mothers chatted eagerly with each other, bonded by the singular experience of imminent motherhood. Penelope was roundly ignored, causing her to wonder if her childless state was written across her face. She had been used to the sensation of being the odd man out when she visited for her annual exam, but this time, this day, it was acute, painful, as if she were staring into the windows of an elite club that didn't want her.

She thought back to why she was sitting here, alone, instead of happily holding the hand of a husband or fiancé. "It's the job," she mused, flipping through a generic home design magazine. "The job makes it so I can't have a normal relationship."

Penelope knew in her heart that wasn't the honest reason, though it did play a factor. Ultimately, her perpetual spinsterhood boiled down to two people: Kevin and Derek. Kevin, the geeky, kinda cute boy who seems to have been made for her, and Derek, the handsome, kind, tortured soul who was her touchstone in times of need. Kevin, who loved her, who wanted to marry her, but who refused to have children, ever. She had asked, again, one last time, if he was sure about not wanting kids, and he had stunned her by mentioning that he had in fact had surgery to eliminate that possibility.

She didn't love him, not enough, to be the right wife for him, but had there been a chance, one singular chance, of children, she might've wed him just to have the dream, even partially. But she couldn't live that lie without the hope of children. She dashed tears from her eyes and tried to focus again on the bland magazine before her. She had ended it with Kevin the night of the proposal. No one knew, not even Derek; it was too raw, not the loss of Kevin, but the loss of the dream.

She looked up quickly when she heard her name called. The nurse chatted merrily with her and left her in a small exam room. She sat, nervously, waiting for Dr. Mead. The graphic diagrams on the walls made her heart ache. This wasn't how she wanted to go about becoming a mother. She was meant to find love in the arms of a strong, good man, and in the process of that love, conceive a child that was proof of their adoration. One with dark brown eyes, light mocha skin and golden brown curls. She sighed. In her mind, it was always Derek's daughter; from the moment she met him, when she daydreamed about her future children, they were always perfect mixes of her alabaster skin and his chocolate, always brown eyes and bouncing, golden brown curls. She shook her head at the folly. Derek did not want children anytime soon, and he certainly would never want a relationship with her. He was her rock, her best friend, but would never be her lover. It was a hard fact, but one she was trying to beat into her famously hard head.

Dr. Mead knocked lightly and opened the door. She was a petite woman, with bright red hair and sparkling green eyes. She plainly enjoyed her work.

"So, it's good to see you! What did you want to discuss?" Dr. Mead scanned Penelope's chart and looked back at her face curiously.

Taking a deep breath, Penelope plunged ahead. "What's the process for artificial insemination?"

For a moment, the doctor's face was blank with surprise. "Penelope, have you been trying to conceive?"

Penelope blushed, then shook her head, looking down. "No…" She braced her shoulders and faced Dr. Mead frankly. "Natural conception requires a male partner, and alas, I have none… I've just realized that if I want to be a mother, I may need to do this on my own."

Dr. Mead nodded her head slightly. "Ok. Well, here's what we need to do first. You'll need to obviously stop taking birth control, and begin monitoring your cycles. Take your temperature every day at the same time so we can chart your basal temperature- it'll spike when you ovulate. Come see me in two months with your data and we'll see where to go from there. In the meantime, Penelope-" She placed a hand on her knee, looking up at her earnestly. "Think about this. Being a single mother is not an easy life, for yourself or your child. I understand the hunger to be a mother… I didn't marry until I was 38, and we didn't get pregnant till I was 42. There just isn't the time limit science used to scare women with. I'll help you whatever your final decision is. Just…" She smiled again. "Just look at all the angles. I'll tell Natasha at the reception desk to help you schedule your next appointment."

Penelope smiled at the doctor, and proceeded out to the reception desk. Natasha handed her an appointment card and a brochure about the various options involved in the procedure.

When she got into the office, she felt much more relaxed than she had for quite some time. She met Derek in the hallway, who walked her down to her bunker.

"So, where were you this morning sweetheart?" Derek could tell she was more relaxed than she had been at the hospital yesterday. He began to wonder why…until he saw the pamphlet at the top of her basket-style purse. He immediately paled, balling his hands into fists as he tried to smother the protest the two words, artificial insemination, aroused in him. He knew his baby girl was longing to be a mother, but he also knew that was none of his business. She had Lynch for that. She would have cute little pale skinned, near-sighted children, and not his. And they would be cute; any child of hers would just be as adorable as the mother. He just suddenly had a deep longing for her to have his babies, to see the way their vastly different features blended into a child which could be nothing but beautiful.

She felt him tense next to her, but, unable to fathom the cause, ignored it. "I had a doctor's appointment… just a consultation, nothing serious…" They paused as she opened the door. Entering the small room, both sets of eyes fell to the box in the middle of the floor.

It was filled with random articles of clothing, books, and bath products, with a note on top, marked with her name in Kevin's nearly unintelligible scrawl.

Derek watched as Penelope opened the note, read the brief line, and shoved the box into the corner. He watched her face cautiously, but she showed no emotion, except perhaps a trace of resignation.

"Pen, what's with the box?"

She smiled at the concerned tone of his voice. "It's just some things I left over at Kevin's. He dropped them off this morning so we wouldn't have to…" She paused, casting about for the right word. "So we wouldn't have to interact."

Suddenly, all the pieces fell into place: her emotional response in the hospital, her obscure comment about doing things on her own, and the pamphlet in her purse. He grabbed her hand, leading her to her chair as he took the one next to it.

"Sit, woman, and tell me what the hell is going on." He didn't release her hand, instead clasping it tightly as they sat knee to knee.

"Derek, everything's fine. Kevin and I are done. Nothing else to say." She tried to reclaim her hand but he held tight, his other had reaching out to cup her face. "You, my goddess, forget you work with profilers. I can guess what the issue is based on assumptions, or you can tell me the truth." He leaned back and crossed his arms over his well-muscled chest.

She sighed, looking away from him. "Kevin proposed, but he… he got a vasectomy without telling me…" She looked up into Derek's concerned face. "I thought… I thought I could marry him and be happy if there was the chance to be a mother, but… I didn't love him enough to be his wife." She shrugged.

Penelope couldn't look at Derek; she knew if she did, she'd lose it, and she was trying so hard to be objective about the whole situation.

"So instead you're going to choose some anonymous donor?" She jerked her head up at the steely anger in his voice.

"Look, handsome, I'm 35. Do you know how the risks increase as a woman gets older? I just… I just can't wait anymore. I can't wait around for Mr. Right to come charging in. I've given up on that." Now she was angry, her flashing eyes staring into his steely ones. "I have one dream left, and I can do it on my own. I need to be a mother. I don't know that any man can understand. It's instinctual. I feel like my meaning in life is about to pass me by, and I can't live a meaningless life."

Now she let the slow tears slide over her cheeks. Derek raised a hand to brush them away.

"Pen, please… think about this. You deserve a child made in love! You deserve…" He closed his eyes, "You deserve to conceive your beautiful babies in a warm bed, being made love to by a man who loves you. Not in a cold clinic with a turkey baster!"

He stood up angrily.

"Look, I get it… I understand all about wanting something so desperately and being terrified you'll never be that lucky. I know about the longing, the dreams, the ache in the pit of your soul. I get it, because I deal with it every day. But don't just give up!" He opened the door, then turned to look at her, his eyes on fire. "You're not allowed to give up because I can't." He slammed the door, leaving her in silence.

Penelope could do nothing but stare at the closed door in shock.