Dear Readers,
I thank each and every one of you for your kind reviews and polite private messages asking me to continue with this story. As some of you may know, I haven't watched CM in at least a couple of years and as of late only hang out on the periphery of the fandom – meaning I read fanfics and reblog CM photos on tumblr (check out my blog: resurrectionofannabellee). I still ship the hell out of Morcia though so that's why I'm back to writing fanfics. This was supposed to be the final chapter of Mother Knows Best but Fran decided to get chatty and when I protested she sternly reminded me that this is as much her story as Derek and Penelope's. She's right, like good mothers often are so here's the latest installment. I hope you enjoy it.
P.S.
I decided to give Derek's father a first name. It's Gabe. He was named after the Archangel Gabriel, the protector of women and children. It's a fitting name, dontcha think?
Mother Knows Best
Chapter 5
The best laid schemes of o' Mice an' Men, gang aft agley.
– Robert Burns
Fran had it all figured out or so she thought. Her game plan was to find Penelope, make a joke of things, and chalk up the evening's events as the exuberance of an overzealous mother. She would then raise her white handkerchief in the air in mock surrender, make the young woman laugh, and then lure her back into the house with Fran's promise to be on her best behavior.
Once inside, she would reunite the future Mrs. Derek Morgan with her soon to be betrothed and quietly cheer as the two kissed and made up. And of course, on their wedding day she would bask in the praise from all as they raised their glasses in a toast to the mother of the groom, the one whose love and determination made the happy occasion possible.
But the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry and Fran's plan C was no exception to the rule. For there on the Morgan's front steps sat Penelope. Her arms wrapped tightly around her legs, her forehead resting on her knees as if she had tried and failed to curl into herself.
Occasionally, she would lift her head and brush at her still damp face before she once again assumed her default position. It was in those seconds that Fran came to realize just how wrong she had been. Not about how much Derek and Penelope belonged together for any fool could see that. That is, except for the two fools in love but for not allowing nature to do what nature does best: bring soulmates together only when they're good and ready.
Fran let out a deep breath she didn't even know she had been holding and climbed the stairs to sit next to Penelope.
"Honey, are you alright?"
Penelope didn't bother to raise her head and for a moment Fran thought that she wouldn't get an answer.
"If your definition of alright is being harassed, humiliated and royally pissed off then I'm just dandy." Penelope's words were muffled by the skirt of her dress.
"I owe you an apology. You deserve better than how you were treated today and for that I'm truly sorry. I got so caught up in my own wants that I forgot about the two most important people in the equation: you and my boy."
"You still don't get it, there is no me and your boy." Penelope sat up and stared out into the quiet street. "Derek, has a type and I'm not it."
"Oh, Penelope, you don't really believe that."
"It doesn't matter. Tomorrow, Derek and I will got back to being friends and today will become a distant memory. Eventually."
The two fell into an awkward silence of sorts; both caught in their own thoughts. After a few minutes had past, Fran was the first to speak.
"Has Derek ever told you about how his father and I met?"
At the young woman's shake of her head, Fran continued.
"Gabe and my brother, John, were cadets at the police academy. They became fast friends and Gabe ended up spending a lot of time at our home. I was 15 to his 20 and he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen; the literal definition of tall, dark and handsome. And oh my, he could dance! I swear he moved like a cat."
Penelope bit her lip recalling another gorgeous man who knew his way around a dance floor.
"He was everything I wasn't: bold, fearless, and too cocky for his own good. And me…I was a sheltered Catholic school girl too scared of her own shadow to step outside the box her parents put her in. I was a child so of course he didn't give me a second look, at least not in the way I hoped." Fran shook her head and laughed. "It didn't help that I looked like a red-headed Olive Oyl with eyes too big for my face, two left feet, and a retainer that gave me a lisp. I was a big ole' mess but he never made me feel that way. To him, I was his best friend's little sister to be coddled and protected."
"Derek sounds a lot like his dad. He thinks it's his duty to keep me safe."
"It's in the blood," Fran leaned in as if to tell Penelope a secret. "The Morgan men are the equivalent of modern-day knights in shining armor ready to slay dragons and rescue damsels in distress."
"That's what I call Derek: my noir knight," said Penelope.
"Then you understand when I say calling them overprotective is an understatement."
Penelope understood perfectly. Despite her protests, it was another month before Derek finally peeled himself off her couch and returned to his own home. Jason Clark Battle was long since dead and buried but Derek insisted on staying put just in case she needed him.
"Over the years our friendship grew but I wanted more." Fran continued. "But so did every other woman within a 100 mile radius. Young, old, it didn't matter. Unfortunately for an ugly duckling like me, most were devastatingly gorgeous and more than willing to give him things a girl like me wasn't even supposed to know about."
"I think you're beautiful," Penelope protested.
"Aww, you're sweet but I was a late bloomer and didn't grow into my looks until much later. Even then Gabe kept his distance. I would sometimes catch him watching me but to my disappointment he never made a move. After all, he was considered a bad boy and a relationship between a black man and white girl was taboo. I was supposed to graduate high school, find a nice Catholic boy – a nice white Catholic boy - get married, be fruitful and multiply. In that order."
"Listen, Fran, I know what you're trying to do but Derek isn't Gabe and I'm not you. There's no happily ever after to my story. You're just going to have to get grandkids from someone else."
Fran reached over and grabbed Penelope's hands with her own and held on tight.
"Listen to me and listen to me good, young lady. I don't want the two of you married just so that you can give me grandchildren, although they would be the cutest little babies in the world. I want you for Derek because you make him happier than he's been in a long, long time."
The words spilled from the older woman's mouth with such certainty that Penelope could almost believe her. She wanted to believe her.
Fran reached over, caught hold of Penelope by the chin, and gently turned her head until Penelope was forced to make eye contact.
"And I want Derek for you because when he looks at you I see how his father used to look at me – like the world begins and ends with you."
Penelope couldn't stop herself. She threw herself into Fran's arms and sobbed. Undaunted, Fran held on in the way only mothers know how and cooed comforting words into the younger woman's ear.
"I love him. I've loved him for so long; I don't know how to stop"
"Then don't."
"It hurts too much. I'm tired of chasing a man who doesn't want to be caught. He's not in love with me and never will be and I have to accept it and so do you."
"Bullshit!"
The curse flew from Fran's mouth with such ease it would have made a sailor proud.
Shocked, Penelope lifted her head off of Fran's shoulder and looked at her best friend's mother in disbelief. From what Derek had told her, curse words were strictly forbidden in the Morgan household and that he had never heard his mother utter anything stronger than the rare "hell".
"Close your mouth, dearie. You'll catch flies." Fran said with a smile.
Penelope snapped her mouth shut.
"Being a good Catholic, doesn't make one a prude. My belief is that expletives should only be used sparingly to get a desired effect. I got your attention didn't I?"
Penelope nodded.
"Then mission accomplished. Where is that adventurous spirit I keep hearing about? Aren't you the one who hacked into classified information to get Prince William's phone number?"
"Who blabbed?"
"And I might have heard something about a certain someone redirecting government funds to buy new tablets for the team."
"No one can prove that."
"And did you or did you not intercept Agent Hotchner's resignation and keep it from making its way to the Chief's desk? Nice going, by the way.
"I plead the fifth."
"My dear, sweet misguided future daughter-in-law from what I hear you accomplish anything and everything you set your mind to. Why are things suddenly different when it comes to my son?"
"What do you want me to do? Throw myself at him?"
"It worked for Gabe and me and we've already established that Derek is just like his father."
Once again, Penelope's mouth dropped wide open but she quickly closed it without having to be told.
"But you were a good Catholic girl."
"Well, the being good part got old fast. By my 19th birthday, I was tired of following the rules and watching other women get what I wanted so one evening I snuck into Gabe's apartment and waited for him to get home from work."
"Are you insane? You could have been shot."
"Definitely not my smartest move but in my defense I was too focused on my eventual loss of virginity to really think things through."
Penelope didn't know whether to be embarrassed or intrigued by the older woman's confession.
"So there I sat on the edge of his bed, wearing my most risqué undergarments, which by today's standards covered more than a two piece bathing suit. I swear my knees were knocking together so loudly, it's a wonder the neighbors from across the hall didn't hear them."
"Does Derek know about this?'
"Of course not! Every boy needs to believe that his mother is the Virgin Mary incarnate and that he was born in a cabbage patch. To believe otherwise would make their heads explode."
Penelope laughed. "So what happened when Gabe showed up?'
"Well, Gabe being Gabe kicked down the bedroom door and swooped in with his gun drawn. Apparently, the apartment being lit up like a Christmas tree was a dead giveaway that someone had broken in."
"You left the lights on?"
"Every single one of them. The dark has never been a friend of mine."
By now Penelope was crying for a different reason. Her laughter rang out into the night.
"It's not funny. I was young, and stupid, and horny. Mostly horny. My brain wasn't working properly."
This only made Penelope laugh harder.
"So Gabe takes one look at me and as quick as lightning pushes me down flat on the bed and rolls me in the bedspread like a burrito. A big dumb virginal burrito."
"Poor Fran, I take it he wasn't happy."
"Not at first, but after some angry shouting, lots of talking, and even more kissing, he conceded that there was a method to my madness."
Penelope leaned in closer, "So did you two…you know...bow chicka wow wow?
"Not that night. He helped me get dressed and delivered me home almost as pure as I had left it. I'd say it was a 10 Hail Marys and 5 Our Fathers kind of night instead of the full on excommunication type sin I had originally planned but all in all things worked out for the best.
"So what you're telling me is that I should break into Derek's house, strip the bedroom of all potential burrito making bedspreads, get naked, and wait for him to come home to ravish me."
"Exactly."
"And what if he doesn't like what he sees?"
"There's no chance of that happening, Baby Girl. Not a chance in hell."
Both Penelope and Fran whipped their heads around to look up at the man standing in the doorframe. Things were about to change.
One more chapter to go. TBC
Reviews and comments are always welcome.