"I am the worst father on the planet," Derek said, plopping himself down into the chair next to Penelope. He took a long sip out of his coffee cup.

She turned away from her computer screen with a laugh. "You are not even close to being the worst father on the planet," she contradicted.

"You know what Chessie asked me for today?" he asked.

"What?" Penelope said, already amused. His daughters kept him on his toes.

"A braid that's French. What the hell is the difference between an American braid and a French braid?" he asked in confusion. Not that he even really knew what an American braid was. "She freaked out when I told her that I wouldn't be able to give her one. And when I say freaked out, I mean freaked out. I had to stay with her at daycare for half an hour before she stopped sobbing."

Penelope laughed heartily.

"What in the hell did I do to deserve such a dramatic daughter?" he asked.

She grinned at him. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

He sighed. "Nope." He sat there for a minute. "Seriously, what in the hell is a French braid?"

"A French braid is…" Her voice trailed off and she held a finger up. "Better to show you," she said, turning to her computer screen. "Let's Google it!" Penelope typed her search in and images flooded her screen.

Derek stood up and practically pushed her out of the way trying to look at the pictures close up. "How in the hell do you do that?" he asked in wonderment.

Penelope laughed. "Like this," she said, spinning her chair around so he was looking at the back of her head. She began to separate her hair. "You break the hair up into three sections and intertwine them, one at a time." She started to demonstrate.

Derek sniffed the air. "Do you use coconut shampoo?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Damn. That smells good," he complimented.

"Focus, Derek."

He sank back down into the chair. "I'll never be able to do that," he said. "These hands weren't made for braiding. They were made for..." She turned around and he wiggled his eyebrows at her, holding his hands out in front of him.

Penelope rolled her eyes. "Sweet Lord," she said. "Those hands haven't even seen action for…who knows how long?" She slapped them away.

He laughed as his hands fell to his lap. "I sure as hell don't. But, hey. Speaking of action…how did it go with Romeo Friday night?"

Penelope sighed. "You mean Romey-x?"

"What?" Derek asked, straightening.

She cleared her throat. "We broke up."

"What?" he asked again.

"We. Broke. Up," she repeated slowly, as if English was his second language.

He rolled his eyes. "I got that. I meant why?" he clarified.

"We…wanted different things," she said evasively, turning her attention back to her computer screen.

"Penelope," Derek said sternly.

"What?" she asked distractedly. It didn't work. He reached for her chair and spun it around.

"Talk to me," he commanded.

Penelope would die before she'd tell Derek that he and his daughters had been mentioned while Max had been breaking up with her. "I…thought I was going to get laid, but instead I…got single," she said.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Well, the laid I can help you out with, but the single part…you know I've sworn off women," he said in a teasing tone.

Penelope rolled her eyes. "I don't need to get laid," she told him. "I just didn't expect to be broken up with."

"I'm sorry, Garcia," he said softly.

"Yeah, well. Don't be. I've made my peace with it."

"Really?" he asked doubtfully.

She shook her head. "Yep. Me, Ben, Jerry, and the Lifetime Movie Network. As it turns out, no one got kidnapped, I've never been held hostage, and I'm not in a coma. Life is pretty damn good."

Derek laughed. "Well, if that's all it takes, then I must say that my life is pretty damn good, too."

He stood up and put his hands on the arms of her chair, then leaned down and kissed her on the nose. "But then again, I've got you."

With that, he walked out of her office.

___

"Hey," JJ said as she walked into the lunch room.

"Hey," Penelope returned.

JJ pulled her lunch out of the refrigerator and put it in the microwave, then hit a few buttons. She came over and sat down across from Penelope. "So, how's—" JJ lifted her eyes to her friends. "Where's your ring?" she asked in disbelief.

Penelope shrugged.

"Did you leave it by the kitchen sink?" JJ asked desperately.

Her friend shook her head.

"Did it fall down the drain?" She really was grasping at straws.

"Wrong again," Penelope said softly. "We broke up."

"Awww…I'm sorry," JJ said as the microwave beeped. She got up and went to get her lunch, then returned to the table. "You OK?"

"Yeah," Penelope said honestly. There was a moment of silence. "Do you believe that everything happens for a reason?"

"Of course I do," JJ said.

"So do I. And if I believe that…then how can I not be OK?" Penelope reasoned.

JJ tilted her head to the side. "That's a good question."

Penelope nodded.

"He wasn't for you, anyway," JJ said.

Her friend laughed. "You don't think so?" she asked.

JJ shook her head. "Nope."

Penelope grinned. "Who is for me?" she asked in a teasing tone.

JJ blew on her mashed potatoes and then took a bite. "Morgan," she said. "You're ultimately gonna end up married to him."

Disbelieving laughter bubbled up Penelope's throat. "What?" she asked shrilly.

JJ smiled. "You're always the last to know, aren't you, Garcia?"

"Wha—that's not even close to being true," she disputed.

"OK," JJ said, obviously placating her friend. She continued eating her lunch as if all was normal with the world. As if she hadn't just dropped the biggest piece of news ever into her friends lap.

Penelope grabbed the Ziploc container and pulled it away.

"Hey!" JJ said, grabbing it back.

"I am not going to marry Derek Morgan," she hissed.

Prentiss chose that moment to walk into the lunch room and pulled her typical Lean Cuisine meal from the freezer.

"Prentiss?" JJ said.

"Yeah?" she asked distractedly.

"Who's Garcia gonna marry?" JJ asked.

"Morgan," she said, without missing a beat.

"Wait! What…Derek's sworn off women," Penelope informed them.

"Yes. But for how long?" Prentiss asked dryly, popping her Lean Cuisine in the microwave. "You're in his vicinity every day, and…well…he's a self proclaimed breast man."

Prentiss gave Garcia's chest a pointed look. Penelope's jaw dropped and she had all she could do not to cross her arms over her breasts.

Reid walked into the kitchen, his nose in a book, and refilled his coffee cup. "Hey, Reid," Prentiss said.

"Yeah?" he asked not looking up.

"If you could pick the one person on the planet for Morgan to marry—"

"Garcia," he said before she could even finish the question, then walked back out of the kitchen.

Penelope's eyes widened. "Do you guys talk about it?" she asked piercingly. A good grilling was in order.

Prentiss laughed. "Only all the time," she admitted.

"Oh, my God!" Penelope dropped her head on the table.

JJ reached over and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "At least now you're in the know," JJ said. Her stupid glass was always half full.

"Hey," Derek said as he walked into the kitchen. No one said anything, and he looked around. His teammates were quiet. They were never quiet. "What'd I miss?" he asked curiously.