Chapter 1

AN: Okay, everyone. My Angst meter has been ticking for awhile, saying it's overdue. I've had this for a month, conjuring up the HEA. This does end up HEA, but it starts..well..pretty awful!….

When Penelope walked into her lair that morning, there was a note on the door at eye level. She pulled it down, and broke the seal:

Come see me when you get this. AH

Her brow furrowed for a second, wondering what the problem was. Unless there was something seriously wrong, Hotch sent quick texts and emails. He almost never wrote notes. She started walking towards Hotch's office. When she reached the threshold, Hotch was sitting at his desk. Someone was sitting across from him. Although she could only see the back of the person, her heart started to thump in her chest painfully. She'd know that silhouette anywhere.

"Ah, Garcia," Hotch said, rising as she entered.

Derek rose too. "Garcia."

Looking at him face on, he looked older, more stressed and irritated than he used to look. It didn't make him look any less beautiful. That spot reserved for Derek Morgan under her breastbone started to ache again considerably.

"Agent Morgan."

"It's nice to see you again, Penelope," he said softly.

"You, too." It was a lie, but she didn't know what else to say.

"Garcia," Hotch began. "Morgan is here from the New York office. He has a very important project his superiors and mine need done immediately. It is very technical, lots of encrypted data that needs to be analyzed. They are requesting the best person for the job."

"There are a lot of people-" she began, but the look on Hotchner's face stopped her.

"They need the best," he said. "There is no other alternative. You need to be in their office. There are a lot of separate systems; you can't do it off-site. It's imperative."

"Send Lynch. Kevin would be excellent; I taught him most everything I know," she said, trying to hold down her rising panic. "This is my team. I'm needed here more importantly."

"It's computer terrorism, Garcia," he said softly. He knew the situation would not be ideal for her; everyone in the office would have known that. "They need the very best."

"Please, sir, don't ask this-"

"I told them you and only you," Morgan interrupted, his tone hard and unyielding. "This is extremely important; we don't have much time. I flew out here to bring you with me. Today. Now."

"I-"

"We can be civil and professional, Garcia." He arched a brow at her, his once beautiful eyes seeing right through her. "I trust that is true?"

Her heart scrambled to her throat and tears sprung to her eyes. She turned away, knowing she didn't have a choice. If Hotch said she needed to do this, she needed to do it. "I'll grab my bag."

On the way to the flight strip, Derek thought about what just happened and winced. He was hoping he wouldn't have to bully her to get her to come with, but that wasn't the case. This whole case was going to be absolute hell. It could've been worse, but not much. Even Hotch, stoic, staid Aaron Hotchner, commented after P left.

"Whatever you did to her, fix it." His tone was cold as ice; there was no more friendly chit chat with the other leader anymore.

It was really awful. The raw hurt he saw on Penelope's face was immediately followed by hatred. It stopped his heart; he never thought in a million years Penelope would hate him.

It was the polar opposite of what he felt.

She wouldn't even look at him. She was looking out the window, watching the traffic pass through the tinted glass. He was at a loss for words. He knew he needed to say something, but everything he could think of was insufficient for this situation. The anger he originally felt was completely overshadowed by the hurt he had in his heart.

He knew she was angry; she had every right to be. He left, took the job in New York, and left without a word after... after...

It wasn't good to think. He was angry too, and justifiably so. It wasn't like he meant to run; if she would just talk to him, he could explain, maybe a little. However, looking at her now, at her cool, refined profile, he didn't think it would do any good. He felt like a schmuck and a son of a bitch. He probably deserved those titles. He could think of a few she deserved, too.

Once they boarded the plane, she sat down quickly. A glutton for punishment, he sat directly next to her. She didn't speak, didn't even glance his way. She was reading a book, some sort of suspense novel that looked somewhat interesting. This was killing him, the coldness that she had radiating off of her.

This was ridiculous. They were grown adults; they could act like it, regardless of how they parted. He thought he'd try some small talk.

"Hey, good book?" It was beyond lame; he knew it. He was desperate.

She glared at him. "Agent Morgan, as far as I am concerned, the minute you left Hotch's office, you lost the right to speak to me." Then she went back to her book.

"Baby girl, I-"

She slapped him, quick and hard, across his face. Then she stood up, and walked to the far end of the plane.

This time, he didn't try to follow.