Disclaimer: Hell no, we don't own anything to do with Criminal Minds. Sorry, too poor for that.

Not so disclaimer: This was co-written with Monnie32, and holy moly, it's fun to play with other people in a communal sandbox. (No comments from the peanut gallery, yo.)

Learning Curve

by Monnie32 and Scintillating Tart

Part One

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who dreamed of things like being married to a wonderful man, having lots of fat, happy babies with big smiles, and true love coming out her god-blessed ears. Then she grew up, kissed a lot of frogs (that didn't turn into princes), and found herself face-to-face with the most impossible situation on the planet:

Watching Kevin Lynch fall all over himself.

It was like watching a gazelle trying to take its last breath as the lion crushes it in its fierce jaws...yes...it was that bad!

When you are little, you have this notion of a fairytale romance, filled with prince charming being so uber romantic it is sickening, then you come face to face with the Kevin Lynch's of the world.

The worst part was that they were in the middle of a diner at 2 o'clock in the morning - and he thought it would behoove him to propose marriage. Marriage and greasy hash browns. Mmm, what a match made in heaven.

She didn't know whether she should pity him or laugh at him. The only thing that could've been worse was if he'd chosen a bag of take-away tacos from the 24-hour Mexican place and a couple of cans of Red Bull. Honestly, did the man even have a romantic bone in his body? Or did he really think that video games, greasy over-salted diner food, and energy drinks made up for not showing a girl how much you love her?

What was love, anyway? Was it staying put with someone who was comfortable for the sake of gliding through life easily? Was it opening yourself to new pains and suffering in the name of being with someone? Hell if she knew.

All she really knew was that, looking at Kevin Lynch on one knee on a greasy, nasty diner floor and their waitress standing there with her slice of French Silk pie, Penelope would've kissed the waitress and run like hell.

Her heart was in her throat. She was choking back tears. This was not how it was done, didn't he watch movies? I mean he could have done some research, there are videos for that sort of thing all over the internet, which she knew he was not a stranger to. There was probably even an App for it if he looked.

For all intensive purposes Kevin Lynch was a disappointment. He was in the bedroom, she got used to it not mattering; she even tried to spice it up and he botched that. She should have taken her first instinct to refuse him when he asked all those years ago, but she was raw, still raw from the Battle fiasco, mad at Derek for making her feel pitied. It seemed like the thing to do to make him jealous. Now she was stuck with him on a greasy floor in a diner asking him to marry her. If he asked her to buy the farm again she was sure she would deck him.

He was looking up at her expectantly, and she felt sick to her stomach. Confrontation was not her strong suit and all this would bring was yet another fight. She looked at the ring - which he'd probably been saving up to buy for the entire time they'd known one another - and felt terrible. But not terrible enough to say yes. She would not bully herself to say yes when it was all she could to do not to be disappointed in herself for letting it go this far for the sake of comfortability.

"Kevin, you're going to ruin your pants - you're kneeling in a puddle of grease," she said. "Get off the floor, okay?"

"Penny - you haven't answered me..." he whined.

She took a deep breath, pinched the bridge of her nose beneath her glasses, and said, "I can't marry you, Kevin."

"Am I seriously not good enough? I have put four- years into this relationship - four years. I could have went back to school and got a degree in that time - and I finally get the courage up to ask you to marry me - with not an ounce of help from Morgan, even though I asked - I asked Morgan for help proposing to you, Penny - Morgan! And you say no?"

Her head was spinning, how - now why - who does that? Who asks the best friend for help proposing? Sure some men might, but how many women have a guy as a best friend? A gorgeous chocolate adonis of a best friend who licking ice cream off of would be so much fun - FOCUS - Focus Penelope.

"I can't - I'm not ready for this - not now - I don't honestly know if I ever will be."

"Would you say yes if Morgan asked?" he spat.

"Kevin, I'm not ready for marriage, I wouldn't care if Prince William himself was doing the asking." Even though i am sure it would be far more romantic than this - probably a romantic adventure - maybe on one knee in the sand on a moonlight night - - Focus Penelope - focus!

"So what?" Kevin asked. "No one's ready for marriage -"

"You're not ready for marriage?" she challenged, feeling suddenly emboldened. "Then why are you asking me? Huh? Because that's what's expected of you when you reach a certain point in a relationship? Why can't we be an exception to the rule? I like having my own space and my own time to decompress from work - I don't want to spend my entire life beholden to someone because we happened to exchange vows and put on rings and said, 'oh, yes, we're together forever'. What the hell, Kevin? I told you already that I'm not ready for marriage - and I probably won't ever be." The words felt good to say - she wanted something temporary, transitory, much like herself. She didn't want to be tied down because once that happened, once her heart took root and flourished, something would happen and she'd be alone and wandering in the wilderness again.

The look on his face was enough to make her want to slap him senseless.

Her logic clearly just wasn't enough to appease him; and she didn't have answers for him that she could disassemble into nice little quantitative pieces that fit his worldview. No, she was a jumbled up mess of insecurities, fear, and all those things that kept her from just jumping into things like marriage - and she couldn't tell him that his tie didn't match his shirt which didn't match his shoes... and his fly had been open all night.

And he was still on the floor.

She grabbed her purse, pulled a $20 bill out of her wallet and handed it to the waitress, who was still hovering with the pie. "Keep the change," Penelope said, rushing into the night without another glance at Kevin.

The cold crisp air hurt. It hurt her lungs like she had been holding her breath for too long, maybe she had. She needed to clear her head, erase the events that took place tonight from her mind, she was sure that pure bleach couldn't do that justice. She just wanted to forget. Forget Kevin, forget the proposal and forget this night ever happened.

She really didn't even know where she was, Kevin had drove, said it was someplace special, oh special it was but he seemed to have a jaded view of the word, or maybe she did. She just wanted to go home, someplace nice and comfortable filled with her familiar things, as far away from that diner and Kevin Lynch as she could get until she figured things out.

She hailed a cab - luckily, there were still a few out and about. She gave the driver directions to her apartment and that was it for running. Once she was safely sequestered among her things, she finally broke down and cried herself to sleep.

When the alarm went off in the morning, she knew she was going to look like she'd partied hard and hung herself up to dry - and that was the frigging truth. It took much more time to clean up and put on makeup to hide her puffy eyes and sallow complexion than usual, and she didn't even feel like wearing something cute and sassy. So she put on a black skirt and a simple white top, plain black flats, and no jewelry. The last thing she needed was a reminder of the diamond that had been sparkling up at her and -

Penelope felt like she'd been hit by a brick wall.

A brick wall named Kevin Lynch.

She walked in with a purpose - to get to her office and evade everyone completely. That was until they caught a case, then she would have to step up to the plate and be her witty self and present the case and do her job. She just hoped they didn't need Kevin too, he was the last person she wanted to see.

She tucked herself into her office and busied herself turning things on.

She didn't even hear the door open.

"Hey Princess - how was.." she turned around. "Whoa - no offence baby girl, but you might want to get the number for the truck that just hit you."

"Thanks Derek, but I am fine."

"I know you are fine, baby girl, but today you are definitely not yourself. I don't even need to be a profiler to see that. Where are your wild colors, your huge shoes that make those legs looks so sexy under those fishnet tights and your jewelry that just makes that gorgeous chest of yours pop. - Huh, where is it all, what happened?"

"Nothing happened," she said. "Why do you automatically think something happened because I forgot to do laundry and just threw on what I had clean?" she snapped.

"Okay, okay," Derek said, putting his hands up in surrender. "You wanna talk about it, you know where to find me."

She sighed and muttered, "Kevin and I broke up for good last night - this morning. I think it was like four when I got to bed and the alarm went off at seven - but the point is that if you ever feel the urge to propose to someone in the middle of a greasy diner? Douse yourself in gasoline and set yourself on fire. It's less painful than your girlfriend walking out and catching a cab home."

Derek didn't even know what to say. How did he trump that. "First of all, I - would NEVER, I repeat - NEVER - propose in the middle of a greasy diner - not my style. It would be far better than that and you know it." He grinned. "Did he tell you his suggestion he threw at me for Tacos and Red Bull. I couldn't even dignify that with a comment, I just walked away." He shook his head.

Penelope was near tears. "Even that would have been better than this - not by much...but maybe a bit."

Derek took her into his arms. "Hey, I'm here for you, you know that, right?"

"I know - thanks." she sniffed wiping her face.

"Wanna come over tonight and watch a movie?" he asked. "Nothing like self-soothing with movies with explosions and -"

"You know, I think I just want to be alone for a couple of days," she said. "No offense to my best friend or anything - I just... need to be alone to process the fact that I just condemned myself to a life of singledom." Her smile wavered. "Maybe I should get a cat."

"Baby Girl," Derek said, "don't go making any hasty decisions - you don't know what's gonna come down the line. You could find some nice guy who comes in to change the water in the cooler or something - you never know."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really, Hot Stuff? Have you seen the water cooler guy?"

He grinned at her. "Nice to know your standards aren't slipping - after Lynch."

"They aren't slipping, handsome, but my radar is off right now." she frowned. "Maybe Emily had it right, her cat is affectionate, doesn't ask questions and doesn't complicate things."

He laughed, "I'm not sure a cat could keep you warm at night."

"I have an electric blanket." she retorted.

"What about carnal pleasure..." he grinned.

"What about it? I have fantasies and a little battery operated toy that says I don't need a man."

"Well okay then," he said. "But what about when all you want is a little -"

"You do realize this is bordering on sexual harassment, right?" she questioned slightly caustically. "I don't want to talk about it. I'm okay - just give me a couple of days to get over this and then I'll be fine."

"I don't want you bottling things up, Penelope," Derek said warningly.

"Oh, trust me - when I boil over, there will be no bottling anything up," she said pointedly. "I need to get to work, Sug."

"Want Chinese for lunch?"

"D, seriously - did I not just say I need a couple of days to get over this?" she sighed. "That doesn't mean bitching sessions with my best friend over Chinese at lunchtime. That means me and a box of chocolates, a pint of Imagine Whirled Peace, and a hella big pot of white trash mac & cheese just like Mom used to make."

He pouted. He hated seeing her hurt - he always had. She held a special part in his heart and when she was in pain - so was he, but he had to respect her wishes.

"If you need me - for anything - and I mean anything-" he said cheekily, "Call me, I'll be here." he said walking away.

She shook her head. Not that she never thought of him THAT way, who wouldn't after you took one look at him - but men were complicated, complicated creatures - yes that's what she was telling herself. Maybe it was time to try something different - maybe women would be easier?

At least then, there would be some relatability, right?

She sighed and shook her head. Less self-pity, more concentration on finding sick perverts.

End Part One