I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters.

The day wore on as everyone finished reports from the last case while Garcia spent time looking over new cases for the BAU to cover. Each left early to go home and change as Rossi invited the team to his place for dinner and drinks so they could all catch up.

Penelope looked through her closet for something to wear. Usually this wasn't an issue. She loved to shop and always had tons to choose from. Bright colors, busy patterns, and clunky jewelry were her comfort. But the problem was that all of the training she had done in California changed her body. Gone was the pudge around her tummy and legs. Her clothes were too big. She hadn't had much time to buy a new wardrobe so she was stuck with a couple dresses she had picked up for special events during her reassignment. She pulled out a knee length dress that hugged every curve. It was a deep shade of red that matched her signature lipstick. She pulled her hair into a loose side braid that she draped over her shoulder.

She looked in the mirror, wondering why she was shaking, "Why am I so nervous? These are just my friends." Her security blanket was gone. Her weight, her clothes, and her naiveté were gone. She had nowhere to hide. But ultimately she knew her nervousness stemmed from another source entirely.

"Here goes nothing." She whispered to herself as she walked out of her apartment.

As the rest of the team filed into Rossi's kitchen to watch him cook, Derek kept watching the door. Conversations were going on around him but his thoughts were elsewhere. This was not lost on all the others in the room. Reid sat down beside him asked, "Morgan, are you familiar with the proverbs of Poor Richard as published in a popular almanac between the years of 1732 – 1758?"

Derek wasn't sure where this was going but before he could reply Reid continued, "Poor Richard was the pseudonym that Benjamin Franklin used when publishing his widely popular annual almanac. Franklin, a tireless and industrious polymath, was fixated on such improving aphorisms and published numerous of such in the guise of Poor Richard. Have you heard the familiar proverb, 'The watch pot never boils'? It's meant to be understood as a reminder that"…

Derek put his hands up, "Reid, I get the point."

Reid looked very pleased with himself, as did everyone else in the room. Morgan excused himself to the bathroom, as the rest waited for Rossi to finish up cooking dinner.

The doorbell rang and Rossi pointed to Hotch, "Aaron, come man the kitchen, while I welcome our last guest." He said as he winked.

Rossi opened the door to a beautiful site. He'd never seen Garcia like this, "Cara Mia, you look beautiful." He took her hand and led her inside.

Penelope blushed as she took his hand. "Thank you, sir."

As she was ushered in, Derek had returned from the bathroom.

Rossi grabbed the food and directed everyone out to the patio. Penelope walked at the back of the group as Morgan came up behind her. He lightly put his hand on the small of her back and bent down close to her ear.

"You look good enough to eat baby girl." He whispered.

"Not before dinner, sweetness, you'll ruin your appetite." She whispered back as she walked away from him.

He bit down hard on his lip. How he missed this woman.

As dinner was winding down and the conversation began to slow, Hotch cleared his throat and directed his attention to Penelope, "Garcia, I thought maybe this would be a good time to share a little bit with the team about your time at the L.A. field office."

"Yes, Sir." She looked around nervously as everyone stared in her direction. She especially felt exposed under Derek's gaze as he waited to hear from her.

"Well, I'm sure you all know the reason I was asked by Section Chief Strauss to relocate to California. My main objective was to train a new team on investigating high-tech crimes such as cyber-based terrorism, espionage, computer intrusions, and major cyber fraud. I also helped to get the field office connected to other hubs of the FBI who also specialize in cyber-crime through the National Cyber Investigative Joint Task Force. I won't bore you with the details of my job description as I'm sure what Hotch really wants me to talk about is something else entirely."

She looked up to see questions in everyone eyes. She swallowed hard and stammered, "Um…While I was away I was given an opportunity to um…complete agent training."

She looked down nervously, unsure how to proceed. "I'm sure you've all noticed that I look a little different. I spent time not only doing case exercises and operational skills, I also completed the physical training, and firearm qualification."

She paused at the silence and waiting for a reaction. J.J. was the first to speak up, "Penelope, I'm so proud of you! Agent training is so difficult, why didn't you tell us, so we could be there to support you?"

"It's not that I didn't want you all to know, I just thought this was something I needed to do on my own. All of you are so busy on investigations and casework that I didn't think you needed the added stress of worrying about me. I kept in touch with Hotch as he was the one who suggested I get the training in the first place."

She had worried so much about what her team would think, but all she saw on their faces was pride and excitement. Everyone began to offer her congratulations and tease her about coming on cases with them. The only silence came from him. Derek just sat there with no expression. She couldn't read him, couldn't gauge how he was processing it, but it didn't look good. She desperately wanted him to speak, wanted to know how he felt about her decision.

He looked at her and with an accusing tone asked, "I thought you didn't believe in guns?"

"I didn't…It's just…"

He cut her off before she could say more. "So Penelope Garcia, the woman who is scared of weapons, who writes with fuzzy pens and has to look at cute pictures to block out the images of crime scene photos, completed agent training?" He laughed under his breath. "I'll believe it when I see it."

She lowered her head to look at her hands, a sob rising in her throat. She forced herself not to cry. Instead, she became angry, looking at Derek with hurt in her eyes.

"What is your problem? What, you can't handle that I might not be the helpless female that you think I am?"

"Baby girl…"

"Don't you dare, baby girl, me. I thought you'd be proud, happy even, that I would go out of my comfort zone to better myself, to better my career, to learn to protect myself and my team."

"Penelope, I didn't mean…"

"No, I know what you meant. Special Agent Derek Morgan doesn't have poor little Penelope Garcia hiding behind him for protection anymore. You don't know how to see me as anything but a back-up, a stroke to your ego." She spat out.

The table sat in silence, wide-eyed at the spectacle that was taking place before them.

Penelope stood up. "Agent Rossi, I want to thank you for a beautiful dinner. I'm sorry to have ruined everyone's evening, but I have to go." She quickly pushed her chair in and proceeded to leave.

"Garcia, wait!" Morgan shouted and stood to go after her. Hotch grabbed his shoulder to keep him from following.

"Let her be. She needs some time."

Derek angrily sat in his chair as everyone took turns glaring at him. "What?! Why is everyone angry with me? I was just saying what everyone else was thinking. Do you all really see Garcia working cases with us? She's too naïve, too fragile for work like this."

Derek focused his gaze on Hotch. "I can't believe you. You actually encouraged her to do this? Why would you ever think that would be good for her?"

Hotch calmly responded in an attempt to diffuse his anger, "That's something that only Penelope can explain. She had hoped to do that this evening, but obviously didn't get the chance."

Derek put his head into his hands.

Reid spoke up. "You know, I struggled with the same things as Garcia. If you remember the first few years I was with the BAU I didn't carry a gun. I started to believe I wasn't a true asset to the team as I couldn't protect my partners. I placated my fears by focusing on what Gideon told me, that I didn't need a gun to kill someone. But there came a time when remembering those words didn't help me anymore. Not to mention the fact that I also struggled to look at crime scenes day after day without seeing them in my dreams every night. You know, traumatized people chronically feel unsafe inside their bodies: The past is alive in the form of gnawing interior discomfort. Their bodies are constantly bombarded by visceral warning signs, and, in an attempt to control these processes, they often become expert at ignoring their gut feelings and in numbing awareness of what is played out inside. They learn to hide from themselves. Maybe Garcia is dealing with her trauma by becoming another version of herself."

Hotch stood up from the table, "Maybe we should all call it a night, get some sleep, and then talk about this in the morning."

Everyone nodded their agreement, said their goodbye's and headed home.

Except Derek, there was something he needed to take care of first.

As soon as Penelope got home she shed her clothes. As she showered she let the conversations of the night replay in her mind. As tears coursed down her cheeks she began to second guess the decisions she had made over the last year. Why did she open herself to hurt? This was the very reason she wanted to complete training in the first place, to protect herself.

She shut off the shower, dried off, and changed into soft cotton pajamas. She left her hair damp in soft waves down her back. As she headed into the kitchen to get a drink she heard a knock at the door. She knew that could only be one person.

She walked to the door and pressed her ear up against it. She could hear him breathing.

He put his mouth close to the door. "Baby girl, I know you're there. I can see the shadow of your feet under the door."

She could almost hear him smiling as he said it. Her resolve caved and she opened the door.

"That's my girl." He whispered. No sooner had he stepped through the door, she grabbed him around the waist and tucked her head into his chest. He wrapped an arm around her back and ran his free hand through her hair. "I'm sorry."

In a voice muffled by his shirt she began to apologize, "I'm sorry, too."

"Why are you sorry? You have nothing to apologize for."

He pulled her away from him by the shoulders and looked into her puffy eyes. He held her face in his hands and wiped the remaining tears away with his thumb. "Do you have any idea how much I've missed you, Penelope?"

He hardly ever used her given name. There was something possessive about it, and she liked it.

He led her by the hand over to the couch and sat down. She nestled into his side as he began to talk

"I didn't mean to be such a jerk over at Rossi's. I guess I was just shocked and didn't know how to respond. All I could think of was how much this didn't sound like you. I felt like my girl left 10 months ago and someone I didn't know came back in her place."

He stopped himself, remembering the reason he came here.

"Something I didn't give you the chance to do was explain why you decided to pursue agent training while you were gone. My undivided attention is yours if you want to talk about it."

His gentle gaze made her nervous, so she kept her eyes on her lap where their hands rested.

She held onto his hand and ran circles on the back with her finger while she thought of how to start.

"I got tired of feeling helpless. I am limited to my desk, limited to the information on my computer screens, limited to relying on others to protect me. After being shot…" she looked down as he squeezed her hand, not wanting to relive those memories. "I felt so stupid. How did I not see what you saw? How did I not stop and think that this man really wasn't attracted to me? How could I not sense danger? I wanted to learn how to protect myself, how to protect my family. I thought that if I learned the skills, then I wouldn't be afraid anymore."

He smiled gently and asked, "Does this mean you don't need me to protect you anymore?"

She looked up and laughed. "Oh, hot stuff, I'll never need you to stop protecting me. A girl still needs to be taken care of, no matter how tough she is."

Derek leaned down a few inches from her face and put a strand of hair behind her ear. "When I saw you in your office yesterday, all I could think of was how beautiful you looked. You drive me crazy, woman."

She blushed and looked down, not able hold his gaze. He lifted her chin with his hand as he saw the uncertainty in her eyes. "Penelope, that's not a flirtatious tease. I mean it." She looked up and saw the seriousness in his eyes.

"It's late. You need to get to bed and I need to get home." He lifted her hand to his lips and lightly kissed it. "Until tomorrow, my lady."

"Goodnight, my love.