I don't know if I'll add another part, this was unplanned and I have to think it through. This piece is more raw than my other FF stories. It's a little broken up structure-wise in order to mimic emotions. Thanks for reading.

Penelope wasn't sure if they knew why she'd been a little off. She wasn't great at lying, she wasn't great at hiding her emotions. So she hoped that everyone would chalk it up to a bad day. Everyone had those. Didn't they? Off days, when you just feel crappy. Maybe because of cramps, maybe it was bad take out, maybe because your friend's had lives and you didn't. But she held her head high as she walked into the bullpen with files in one hand, a cup of tea in the other, and announces that there is a case.

As they all gather, Luke moves her chair so that she can easily set her things on the table as she introduced the case.

She's a little less sassy but not completely sass-less. She wasn't good at hiding. Nope. She never had been, but she was good at making sure not to be embarrassed about having a crush. If she really liked someone, she held back, but it was so rare she actually liked anyone. Kevin and Sam weren't the spark and sparkle, they were sensible dating options. She had things in common with each of them. The time they spent together eventually turned into some type of love or deeper emotion but it was never earth-shattering or all-consuming. Other guys, she'd liked here and there, the crush came and went, maybe because they came and went.

A man named Brian in her support group who'd lost his brother was one of them. He was so kind and open, mostly because that's what the group existed for, but he was also very attractive. She wouldn't cross the boundary of, volunteer dates grieving loved one, but she fantasized about the hot man a few times. It was fleeting, as was the crush on the hot barista years ago, or even the agent down in counter terrorism. Fun to think about but all fleeting fantasies of beautiful boys that would never really matter. Maybe some people had felt the same about her over the years, it was only natural. She assumed that she'd been the object of someone's desire, that was never acted upon, as were the majority of attractions. But this time, this time, the crush came and it was forceful. When they'd called the fugitive task force and they sent that damn Agent Alvez down, she was physically winded just from looking at him.

He'd worked with them most of that summer, she always kept it curt and professional, knowing that learning too much about him would burst the bubble of the fantasy she had put him in. And when summer was over he was supposed to be gone, a nice memory to have, another unrequited crush that never mattered. She lied to herself about it being that simple but then the unthinkable happened, one day as she was leaving, he found her at the elevator and told her she'd have to learn to be nice to him. She was floored. It'd been a few months already, what power in the universe was trying to mess with her so much, that instead of her counting down the days until he was gone, she had to count how many days she'd been infatuated. It was going to make her slowly lose her mind.

Yup, she knew then, she was in trouble and she tried her damndest to keep him at bay. But, assuming he wasn't going anywhere, that couldn't last forever. More than that she had to get to know him as a person. He wasn't a consultant anymore, he wasn't an extra set of hands, he was in the family and she couldn't stop it when her crush crossed the line into something more.

He was now, Luke, a man who was evolved, he talked to Spencer about mental health as well as his partner Phil. He was the one who might tread the line of legal and illegal just to keep Spence safe or get info they needed, but his intentions were good. His borderline bad boy decisions secretly made her like him more.

She heard through the grapevine that he essentially let Scratch fall to his own death. She didn't want to admit how relieved she was at someone else's death, but she had been. She was internally grateful that he'd let Scratch die and didn't risk his own life to save a man that didn't deserve a whole hell of a lot of kindness. No, he didn't so easily fall into the cliched hero complex her beloved Morgan had. She loved her best friend with her whole being, but sometimes she just didn't get him. Derek had actually done that exact thing, an unsub was hanging from a rooftop and Derek hopped roofs just to help him. She remembered being livid when she heard the story. Her Derek was just too good for this world sometimes, but an absolute idiot sometimes too. That's the place where they always disagreed, when they just didn't see the other's point. That's also why she could safely admire his beauty, and loudly exclaim her love for him, because it was only ever a friendship. A deep down, soul-changing friendship but alas, still platonic. There was nothing to hide, nothing to read into. Easy.

Here she was a couple years after meeting the beautiful Agent Alvez, that she let herself crush on, with the knowledge he'd be gone and take any temporary infatuation with him. And there she was, wondering what the hell to do with this shit now. What could she possibly do? They were too far gone for crushes and too far behind for flat out honesty about feelings. The few times they'd hung out outside of work without anyone else, were always purposeful and casual. She tried her damndest not to fantasize about it meaning more. She tried to calm her mind when it wanted to race away with the logic that he didn't have to ask her. He didn't have to see her. But then again, he didn't need to play darts with JJ or bring Emily dinner or buy Tara a drink when she was down. Nope. He was just a good guy and she wasn't special to him.

She repeated this to herself countless times. Every time she let her mind wander to what it would be like if he said to hell with the rules, I like you. What it would be like if they dated, what it would be like if he tripped because he was head over heels. And what it would be like when the team found out and would regard them with elation and happiness. But every time her mind went there, she'd try to calm it and tell herself this wasn't going to happen and it was unhealthy to live in a fantasy. A fantasy that seemed further away, the longer none of it came true.

She wasn't sure why he looked at her like he did or why he comforted her when he did. She wasn't sure why he laughed at her like he did. Nope. She wasn't sure, but she was sure that it hadn't been enough, because otherwise he wouldn't just be in her mind, he'd be in her bed. He was never going to be hers, so why did he give her those eyes? Why bother? Did he give everyone those eyes? She never thought so. But now she questioned the whole thing. All of it.

She'd let herself believe for a moment that he might be interested but that it was too complicated so neither of them had acted on it. But sometimes when his eyes lingered a little too long on her or he teased her a little too much, she was sure it was just a matter of timing. Because, no, this wasn't a crush for her, this was something soul-consuming and she hated that she let herself get here. Where was her self-discipline? His hand had never wove in between hers, they had never kissed, they'd never let their flirting escalate to an intimate level where it couldn't be misinterpreted or chalked up to light-hearted banter. Nope. So why was she so irrevocably changed by something that hadn't even happened? Did she make it all up? Was it really only in her head? No, because at the very least it was also in her heart. But apparently his heart had not thought the same thing. Apparently he'd not been waiting around like a nun for two years just living in his fantasy, like she had. Nope. He hadn't been doing that at all. And if he had, well apparently he got over it, something she wasn't sure she could ever do.

She could tell he was worried about something. He seemed nervous at work and just not himself. She saw him searching different restaurants, not trendy new places to get dinner, but date restaurants. He'd shut the window on his screen as soon as she saw it, obviously, she momentarily hoped it was for her but she knew better. And it was confirmed when she heard him talking to Matt. Nope. She didn't want her tea anymore. She darted away from the corner she was about to turn, where the small counter, that housed the coffee they all existed on, was also keeping her hot water. She zoomed away quickly, right back to her office and she hid. A slight moisture came to her eyes but she wiped it away quickly because she couldn't be that utterly ridiculous. She wasn't weak like that, to run and cry over something she never had. Nope. She wasn't. She was, however, super nosy and she found out where his reservation was for the evening and she hoped like hell she could come up with a good enough excuse to be there.

She thought about calling a hot male friend and having him take her to dinner there. Luke wouldn't have to know he was a long-term friend from her theater group. He wouldn't have to know that the man would be on loan from his own husband for the night if she did show up with him. But she wasn't sure if that made her crazy. She wasn't sure it wasn't entirely better to avoid any of it. If she didn't see it, it couldn't make her sad. And maybe he'd never say anything about the girl again, maybe it would be a first date failure. But it was Phil, his best friend, that set him up. He knew Luke well, and she guessed this date wouldn't fizzle so quickly if the woman was best friend preapproved. Nope. It probably wouldn't.

Phil had been nice to her but he didn't even ask who she was. She at least thought when Luke introduced her as Penelope he'd ask why she was there. But instead, he assumed she was from work and he kindly thanked her for helping Luke even when she probably wanted her time off from such a hectic job. Nope. So Phil must've known what she didn't, that she wasn't even in the running. He looked straight through her. It wasn't even a thought. Until now, she'd really liked Phil but not so much anymore. She depressingly thought that it wouldn't matter anymore, you don't have to celebrate truly liking your boyfriend's friends, because he's not your damn boyfriend.

Nope. So instead she steeled her resolve and tried to calm her racing thoughts. Leaving work and going home like an average day, as if she wasn't questioning her sanity. She tried to distract herself with anything, anything at all. Whatever would make her not think about the one thing that would affect the trajectory of the life she'd so intricately planned in her head. She didn't realize how crazy she was until just then, until she recognized how much of this reality was not real at all.

What had she done to herself? She wasn't going to hide and cry, at least not right now. Maybe if she truly mourned this loss, she would. Right now? Nope. She was going to act like herself as much as she could. Go into denial, it wasn't going to happen. It wasn't happening.

Then she got the call, the case was urgent and she needed to gather the team. She was secretly happy that she didn't have to scheme to break up the date. She couldn't do that anyway, she didn't want to feel even nuttier than she already was. She didn't want to feel manipulative. What good would that do? He'd just be annoyed with her, not with whatever nameless woman he was supposed to meet. At least this was legitimate. She called him first, hoping he'd make it to the BAU before the others so she could at least have a private smile. That wasn't manipulating, that was just taking the breaks where you get them. Maybe he'd be relieved, if the date was going bad then she'd be his savior or the case would.

So when he didn't answer, in fact when his phone went straight to voicemail, she got immediately concerned. Maybe the lady was insane and chucked his phone in the river. Probably not, Phil knew her. So instead of the loving warm phone calls she usually tried to make individually, she sent out a group text telling them to confirm receiving it. A few texts were coming through as she set out to ping his phone. She already knew the restaurant, but she didn't want to think about her momentary lapse in judgment earlier that day, and for all she knew, he didn't go. But then the confirmation came through, he was still there. She almost called the restaurant to have the waiter give him the message but she stilled her fingers over the call button, she could justify going there, she had to get him. He was the one who didn't answer his phone and it was in the same direction, for the most part, so she could chalk it up to his own stupid actions.

That's what she told herself the whole way there in the back of the cab, avoiding any logic her brain wanted to throw at her. Avoiding the thoughts about what she might find. A happy, smiling, Newbie, a romantic kiss, an intimate hand hold. God, she didn't want to think about it. Knowing it, hurt already, seeing it might actually kill her. She arrived and cheerily made her way in, determined to not let her bad luck make her unkind and rude to others. She smiled at the host as she walked in and explained the situation.

When she saw him she plastered on the face she thought made sense, curiosity. He wouldn't question Penelope and her ever curious mind. She could see the woman was probably attractive, the dim lighting made it hard to fully tell, but she needed Agent Alvez. So here she was, scarring her own heart. If she knew what this woman looked like, she would obsess and analyze it and let it wound her heart because she was real now. No one could deny it. Putting on her resolved face as Luke saw her and made his way over. His questions about her abilities were downright rude. Of course she can find him. She can find anything, she expected to say they had a case and for Luke to say, okay we'll head out. She expected him to be polite and say goodbye. But she didn't expect to see that he was disappointed to be leaving.

And that's the only way she could describe what seemed to float across his face. As he absently said something about meeting the woman, she knew he would expect her to be her normal, inquisitive, friendly self. Because if it was any other team member in this predicament, isn't that what she would've done? So she did. And she rambled and she got a better look at the woman who seemed pretty enough, and was at least capable of nodding. There was a brief moment of satisfaction on her face when she was the one leaving with Luke. A moment that said, he left with me, not you. A moment that made her feel like she'd won. But this wasn't a game, and if it was, she certainly didn't know the rules.

She pretended momentarily that it was them leaving the restaurant after a date. She smiled at a few strangers who were waiting to be seated. As they walked out, she let the flicker of hope land on someone else, maybe if she put it out in the world it would stay alive and have a real chance to happen. At least for a brief moment in time a few people that happened to be in the same moment as her, believed that she was walking next to her date, boyfriend, maybe even husband, after a romantic dinner.

But the fantasy fell when they got in his car and as he drove he asked her what she thought. Nope. She wasn't on a date with him. She wasn't really taking him away. He didn't leave that woman at the table because he'd chosen to, he left because of circumstance. So Penelope did what she always did in these situations, she told the truth. The woman seemed to be pretty enough and sounded like a decent catch, especially if Phil thought so, and that was it. After he listened to her opinion, he told her it was an interesting observation. Then she let the silence of the moment pierce her heart.

She felt like she couldn't breathe and yet had to pretend that she was just fine. She watched the road disappear under the tires, through her window, not wanting to look at him. It might overwhelm her, she might let those tears fall that she didn't want to. More than that, she didn't want to commit him to memory in this moment. What good could that do? All it would do is create another memory, another image that would slice through her when she was finally alone and her mind decided to betray her. So she stayed silent.

Then he asked her why she was quiet, she made an excuse about being distracted and proceeded to ask about his sweet little girl and then about little Lou who probably wasn't little anymore. But then that led back to her.

Phil had told her about Luke because she had inquired about the dog. Then apparently something clicked for Phil. Because here they were. And it felt like a punch in the gut. Seriously, for all her practice of nonviolence she was sure she now knew the physical pain of a tough blow. If she hadn't helped Luke with the dog, maybe all of this wouldn't be happening. But then, she wouldn't have felt special that day. She wouldn't have felt closer to him than ever. She wouldn't have felt his hand on her back, she wouldn't have stood so comfortably close to him, so intimately, that she was almost brave enough to give him the eye, the one that always meant, you're advances are welcome here.

Those eyes that meant, I feel something, now chase me. Yup, she'd almost done it and at that thought she felt momentarily relieved. A brief reprieve, until she realized that just because she hadn't made a complete fool of herself for him, didn't mean she hadn't been a fool. So now one of the purest memories she had of him was forever tainted, and damn it if she was grasping onto the last pieces of sanity that she had.

When they got to the BAU she was for once, happy to leave his company to go grab her things. As soon as she entered her office she felt like she wasn't suffocating anymore. She wasn't sure if she had been awkwardly quiet or if she spoke the whole car ride or in the elevator, or if he didn't notice because he was thinking about her. She didn't want to know. She had no poker face, but she did have the ability, as a woman, to mask her pain.

She knew pain and heartbreak would eventually seep out and clash with anyone it met when it grows too big for the container it had been kept in. She knew right now, it hadn't festered and bubbled yet, and she could temporarily let the gruesome facts of the case occupy her mind.

But as she saw him pull out her chair for her, all her resolve that she'd built up all day, evaporated. She had to blank out her mind, otherwise she would start asking herself why. She'd let herself hold onto the hope that he did it because he liked her, because he thought of her, because she meant something, and not just because he was a gentleman.

It wasn't about her, and that was what she would have to repeat to herself as often as she could. It was never about her. His charm and laughter and smoldering looks were just him. It wasn't her, she wasn't the one that elicited that from him. She was just the one it was fleetingly directed at and she'd been a fool to let her hope sprout so long ago. She wasn't sure she would ever end up with someone. She could end up with someone. But she didn't want that. She wanted the right one.

Marriage, as a concept, was not important to her. The commitment of saying forever to the right person, was. If having kids mattered to her, she could've had them long ago and even made an okay life. But not one that was filled with earth shattering love that she would cross the desert for.

When she thought about kids, she usually shrugged it off. She had never been determined to have them, but if she ever did, they would be Luke's. If he wanted them, then that was probably all she would need to convince her too. She always figured they'd cross that line when they got there. And if he didn't want kids, then even better. She wouldn't say no to having him to herself for the rest of her life.

After she finished her presentation, as she listened to them hypothesize, she made a promise to herself, if she didn't have Luke, she wouldn't have kids. Simply because she wasn't sure she'd ever trust a man as much as she trusted him, to care about the type of person they would bring into the world. She knew he'd be dedicated, and honest, open-minded, and caring. He'd teach his kids to recycle, to volunteer, to do all the little things she saw him do. He'd care if they stood up for others and he'd tell them as much. She knew he would show them how much he loved them every chance he could. He wasn't the type to swap time with his kids for time with the boys or the sports channel.

He was the type to change diapers and help clean, but he was also the guy that would pin her to a wall and fuck her into oblivion. She knew he was the guy that didn't stray and that he understood the importance of kindness. And that even after telling his children that they should seek peace, he'd go to work the next day and see anything but. And he would never bring that home to them and burden them. Nope. If her kids weren't his kids, she didn't want them.

She would still want to get married. Eventually, she knew the pain would have to lessen. When it did, she could find someone to stand by her side. Even if her husband was a great catch, he would never measure up to the way Luke understood her. Or maybe just the way she convinced herself that he had. Because after all, it wasn't real. It was her imagination.

Getting married to someone average, with common interests and not much more, that wasn't her. That was supposed to be other people. That was for people that thought what was expected for them was more important than love given on your terms. That was for people that were average and typical. She didn't want typical, she wanted everything. She thought he was everything and that it would happen eventually because how could you stop something so inevitable? So big, so towering, and free? How could you stop destiny?

But apparently destiny could be stopped. By a blind date. And suddenly she felt so ordinary she wasn't sure she was anyone at all.

So when Luke came by her office to say bye before they jetted off to save the world, she gave him a pleasant smile and a curt salutation. She didn't want to crumble in front of him, she didn't want him to see her falling apart over him. Him. She couldn't show him that vulnerability. She sure as hell didn't want a look of pity from him, or anyone else for that matter.

Damn it, they were profilers, they had to know how she felt but no one ever said anything to her. So did that mean they were trying to be respectful, or did they know it was hopeless? Could they tell he didn't even come close to seeing it the same way? If so, she would've appreciated a heads up before she let herself get carried away.

She broke her own damn heart and she knew it.

Maybe he always thought of her as a colleague, nothing more. She was confident and beautiful. She had a personality for days. Yup, there was nothing wrong with her. She worked for the FBI, damn it. She was a damn catch, a dream boat of a human being. And yet, here she was, without a person to share it with. Or at least not the person she thought was finally worthy of everything she wanted to give.

She didn't mind being single, in fact, she took pride in staying alone and not wasting time on anyone undeserving. So was she just one of those people who never found her lobster? Was she the person whose soul mate died in some deep sea diving excursion so she'd never meet him? Well that was ridiculous, her soul mate wouldn't deep sea dive. She'd realized then, that Luke was still staring at her, trying to size up her demeanor. She snapped at him, telling him not to profile her and she pushed past him as she moved things around her office. Mumbling about how he shouldn't start, not now, not now that it was so damn useless.

And for that matter why didn't he know? Maybe he did and if he did, that made it so much worse. She refused to fall apart, she refused to do that, not for him, not like this. But then again if not for him, then who? Who else did she know that deserved to be so loved by her? This whole time she thought he deserved the world for being so amazing. She thought it was a real life miracle that this amazing man was single, available, successful, kind, loyal, and at their age where the good ones were truly taken, he wasn't even close to being spoken for. At least, he hadn't been.

Everyone she met was at the least, divorced once or had kids running around somewhere. Something she knew she wouldn't be able to deal with, raising someone else's kid when she hadn't truly wanted her own. She just wouldn't be able to put her heart in it. Nothing wrong with those men she'd met here and there. Everyone had all different types of baggage, life was known to go off schedule. She didn't judge, but she knew pasts were sometimes forced on your present and it made things harder.

But then Luke Alvez landed in her lap, just as single, just as unconnected, just like her, with a past romantic history, but one that didn't really matter all that much. Especially in the face of something as epic as what they were going to have together. Or so she thought.

She thought he was there for her. She finally figured out why she turned down a perfectly decent man's proposal, because she was waiting for him. Him. But not now. Not ever again. So when he took a few more moments to scrutinize her, she finally sighed and gave him a little attitude to placate him.

Giving him attitude was so normal that he wouldn't question it and he'd leave her alone. And he did. Alone. They were gone. To New York. New York, where his family was, a family she thought she'd meet someday. But that didn't matter now. Even if they came to visit, she didn't want to know them. She didn't want to know what she was missing.

She tried to be as professional as possible. She had a job to do and she did it. She did it well. No one questioned her sanity, except her. She was a chipper voice on the phone but a dark black hole on the inside. She was grateful that he didn't have to call her a lot. She didn't want to hear his voice. Not now. Nope. Not now.

The time passed and her mind eventually had to give her a break. She had to eat and she had to stretch and she had to research and eventually other things were on the brain. It was only a few days but she did have to function. Until they said they were coming home. She was glad they were. Glad the case was solved, the bad guy no longer a threat. But as soon as she finished her report, she forgot what the case was about, the details so utterly insignificant.

She was in her office, knowing they would be back soon, but she, for the life of her, couldn't remember the case at all. Wasn't she just digging around a few hours ago? She sighed, her brief reprieve from overthinking was over.

Then there they were, her team. She wanted to give them cheer but instead she kept busy, if anyone looked at her funny, she wouldn't know. Maybe they didn't notice, surely they wouldn't notice that, if they couldn't see the giant gaping hole in her heart. She left them to their devices.

She tidied up. She finished things she needed to get done and then she decided to leave, not sure who was still there or not, she didn't even check. She just wanted to go home.

The utter exhaustion made her feel like begging for solace. A part of her wanted her to numb herself. But she refused to drown in alcohol, at least not tonight, not right now. Maybe later she could angrily blab to friends. Maybe. And maybe she'd have a drink then, but if she numbed this pain, she'd just feel hollow and she knew it. She knew in the end, no amount of alcohol could numb the sting of heartbreak.

As she waited for the elevator, a fleeting thought came to her, it was just a date. One date. It didn't mean anything, and she didn't know if it went well. She thought he was sad to leave but maybe he was just flustered, he had to go and he didn't want to be rude to a woman that was nice enough.

She felt a wash of relief come over her. Okay, he didn't need to go on another date. He didn't need to see her again. Maybe he didn't want to see her in the first place. Maybe he'd gone because he wasn't good at saying no. He didn't like to disappoint people, she was sure of it. But then as she tried to fill her lungs with air, the elevator dinged. The noise made her brain start flowing with all the insecurities again. The ones she'd felt the first time he'd walked into the elevator with her alone. Fucking Pavlov.

If he felt like she did, he wouldn't have gone. Period. End of story. Awkward or not, he would've said no and he damn well wouldn't have talked to her about it. With that, the denial was over as quickly as it came.

She stepped into the elevator and when she turned, hand poised over the button, there he was. Almost out of thin air. And she wanted to shout and ask why the universe did this, why dangle the carrot then never feed her? Just as she's starving, prepare a feast and make her watch as others greedily consumed. And there they were in the elevator together and she didn't want to let him see her sweat, she wanted to pretend she didn't care. She didn't want anyone to think she cared, she didn't want sympathy, she wanted love. The real true, over the moon, climbs a mountain, swims an ocean, love. And barring that, she was at least going home with her pride.

She would fake it until she made it. Maybe in time it wouldn't hurt anymore and the rest of those profilers would forget she ever cared. Maybe they'd even question if they had it right in the first place, since she planned on not letting them see her pain.

She vaguely hears him as he asks about her plans. She gives him an answer about things she needs to get done. She wants to ask him if he has plans, part of her wanting to consume the information but that part was also a masochist.

She didn't need to make another wound. So she kept quiet and oddly, so did he. But as she looked at him out of her peripheral vision she noticed that he'd changed in the locker rooms. He wouldn't have bothered if he was just going home. There would be no point. He'd only ever changed when he'd actually gotten dirty on a case and showering on the job was necessary. Otherwise he went home just as he'd arrived. Nope. He didn't have to say a word. She knew. And she could feel the emotion crawl up her body, towards her face. She could feel it pound her behind her eyelids. There were those damn tears threatening again. So she bit her lip and started thinking of happy things, like puppies, or kittens. Like the puppy they - or the toy cat he - Nope. No animals.

Rainbows, rainbows. She thought of rainbows and of Spencer's rambling explanation of them one time and at least that gave her until the elevator opened to not completely lose her shit.

She attempted to walk casually, when what she really wanted to do was take off her shoes and run. But that, she feared, would be a dead giveaway that she wasn't so fine after all. So she strode towards her vehicle and she expected him to be just a step behind her like he usually was. He'd halfway, sort of, kind of, walk her to her car every night. Not really, but he'd usually finish up whatever conversation they were having as he waved her a goodbye and then take strides towards his car. But not tonight, tonight he veered off to his car without detouring to hers.

He was still in view, they were parked across the drive from each other but he didn't take the detour towards her vehicle like usual and that was the thing to sink her ship. The final blow.

He was rushing away to meet up with another woman. So much so, that her own importance in his day to day was already dwindling. And then she felt it, the utter feeling of despair. Some tears finally broke through as she tried to get her key in the hole quickly, a harder task when the liquid clouded her eyes and a few droplets landed on her lenses. Damn it, why? Why the heartbreak that stung so bad? Why the loss of tranquility? The peaceful garden she'd made in her mind where Luke was next to her forever and always with that same look on his face. The one that made her believe.

She threw her bag on the passenger's seat hastily and practically fell limbless into her low seat. Desperately trying to hold in her tears, not wanting to ever cry but especially not here where others could see her. Others that definitely should never see her. One in particular that she didn't even want to give the privilege to ever see her cry again. And yes, her emotions were a privilege to share.

She started her car, hoping he wouldn't wonder what was wrong or think she was stuck or something. She picked up her phone to listen to the voicemail Derek had left. And then she saw it, she saw him pull out of the space he was parked in before she had. He always waited. He always waited for her to back out and then follow her as far as their routes overlapped and when they diverged, if they got stuck at the same light, he'd wave before turning. But not tonight, not now, maybe not ever again. No, tonight, he wasn't going her direction, tonight he wasn't going to let her car go in front of him, much the way he would let her through a door first.

The anger enveloped her and then the sadness kicked it out. And that's what happened the whole way home. She alternated between emotions, as if she was having a hormone overload every three minutes. She didn't break down, the tears didn't overflow, the emotions too jumbled to send a message to her body of what to do.

She parked in her spot, feeling numb, feeling broken, feeling stupid, and vulnerable. She was supremely confident. She wasn't the type to judge others and she expected the same in return and yet, as she climbed the stairs in her building, she felt the burden of doubt.

She doubted herself. Not her actions, not her mind, not her interpretations. But herself. Who she was and wasn't. She hadn't done that since she was a teenager. After getting out from under Shane's thumb she easily found herself. Hit her stride, and she only had moments here or there. Like when she argued with Derek because she thought he was insulting her when she asked his opinion about a guy in a coffee shop. She'd overreacted, she knew it. Because knowing him, he just wanted her to listen to her own instincts.

She felt a little doubt when she first took over JJ's job, but it wasnt so much about her, so much as not wanting to let the team down. But, that was short lived. Other than a few mishaps, she never doubted herself or her appeal or her worth. She'd made that vow to herself long ago, when she discovered that life was short, and she couldn't spend it worrying about what other people told her to be.

But here she was, in doubt. And she wondered how she let a man do this to her when she never had before. She was usually the one to end things and even when she wasn't, she felt only some pain, not like this. She had never even kissed the man.

Her feet were barely making it to the next step. She almost tripped up the steps feeling the heaviness of her legs, feet, and shoes. Her emotional baggage too heavy to carry when she was just trying to physically retreat.

She faintly heard voices and she rolled her eyes. If her neighbors were having a party again, she wasn't sure if she'd suddenly run into the hall to maim them with a knife or join them, just to pretend like she wasn't herself for an hour or two. As she finally got to her hall she looked up from her feet and she saw all of them, minus him.

They all inspected her as they stood on both sides of the hall, waiting for her arrival and that's when it happened, she fell to her knees, so exhausted from carrying this burden of love. So mad that they all knew. So broken that she felt distinctly cold. So angry no one warned her, hinted to her, anything. And so livid at herself for needing them, all the same. Nope. She didn't want to be weak, she wanted to maintain some dignity, that was her plan. She cried regularly but she didn't want to be a blubbering idiot over this. She wanted to mourn in secret.

But here she was, they knew. They knew so well, that they planned. Without telling him, they made a plan to leave earlier so they could be here when she got home. They knew enough to hide it from him. They all knew enough to know that she had no place else to turn and they knew enough that she cared and that he didn't. They knew enough that her heart was shattered and they would know the same thing on Monday morning. Except when Monday rolled around, they would also know what it looked like when she felt like she couldn't fucking breathe. What she looked like when she had mascara running down her face, lipstick smudged, and her foundation and blush just a whisper of what they used to be.

They would know, and for the first time, she didn't care. Her pride was long gone. It didn't matter who knew, as long he didn't and as long as he never would. They saw her pain and they were going to be there when she choked on her last sob of the night and they were going to be there when she pulled a t-shirt over her body and a pair of sweats over her ass. And as they sat on the couch with her, they'd watch the future she'd planned, disintegrate into the nothing it always was.

She heard them coming to her. Silence, except for their footsteps and as they surrounded her, she moved her hands from her face for the first time since she'd made friends with the floor. And she asked them if it was all in her head.

She needed to know, wanted to know. Just how one-sided was this love affair she'd been having? She got a few no's and few, didn't seem like it's. But she wasn't sure if that made her feel better or worse. Nope. Not a clue.

She felt Matt pick her up. And vaguely saw Rossi and Tara gather her things, the former tossing the keys to Spencer who was closest to her door. She heard the footsteps on her wooden floor and the door shutting. And she heard the silence that was piecreing the air louder than a wartime cannon.

As Matt deposited her on the couch, she felt JJ and Emily wrap themselves around both of her sides. She felt the tears sting and the drool on her mouth and the wet nose she'd been trying to maintain, let loose even more than it already had.

As if she didn't feel bad enough, now she was going to do the ugly cry. But what did it matter what your face looked like when your life felt vacant and hollow?

She gazed up at them, all of them sitting now. Except Matt, who was distinctly watching her face as changing over and over with each new wave of emotion. She could see that he felt helpless. Luke was also his friend, his closest friend on the team, and he probably had it the worst when it came to feeling caught in the middle. She felt the tears race and the hiccuping begin, as she wiped her face with tissues that were handed to her, from whom, she didn't know. As she calmed, if that was even the word for her body depleting all the energy she had, she excused herself to retreat to her room and did the wardrobe change she'd known she would. She shuffled back to them, feeling desensitized, not knowing if she wanted to talk or just feel or feel nothing at all.

So instead she asked if she was crazy. They all respond in the negative. Then she asks if she isn't, how can her heart feel like dust. They hadn't even had a first date, let alone a second, like the one he was on right now. No one truly has an answer as she feels them glance at each other. She tells them it's fine to go but none of them move, so she asks what she should do. Because that was the thing she didn't know. She explains that she didn't know they saw through her but that she should've known better and she wants to know how she moves forward.

No one's sure and then she gets a suggestion from an, ever-hopeful JJ, that maybe if he knew how she felt, things would be different. And Penelope looks at her like she'd lost her mind because things are already different. How can she un-feel everything that had broken her down? And for a moment, she wished she could go back in time and warn herself. For once she wished to erase the emotions, rather than be glad she learned from them.

She thinks about being the Penelope that she was before she'd ever met him. Blissfully unaware of the knowledge of real love. And then she wondered, if she was granted a magic wand, if she'd really take back the moments of utter bliss she now owned, because of the way he laughed as he drove her home. When he rubbed her shoulders. When he comforted her. When he cared about her emotional well-being.

Why her? The thought floats through her mind, that he would've done the same for any other member of the team, it's just, she was the one who never compartmentalized so she was the one in need of it. But she'd rationalized this before and everytime it popped in her mind that he didn't really have to, she remembered, that meant he chose to. Even if he'd be there for the others, he wouldn't have been quite the same. Because no matter what she did, she was very aware that he only looked at her that way. That way he did. He didn't look at the rest of them like that. And while that rationalization used to bring her comfort on the nights filled with angst and impatience and longing, now all it did was make her mad that he'd ever laid eyes on her at all.

She's vaguely aware that the others are trying to tell her it's just a couple dates and if she wanted to, she could probably just be open with him, he wouldn't judge her. To this her response is to ask then why did he go and also to ask if they think he knows how she feels. If they all knew, surely he did.

After a few more pointed looks to each other, she gets a generic, he went because someone set him up, he wasn't out there looking. Which is placating at best, but at worst, it reminds her, that means he wasn't ever looking at her either. And at the end of that long, over-analytical, tunnel, the answer is, he still went.

To the other question, suddenly their profiling skills aren't practically those of a psychic. It's Rossi that finally lets his voice be heard when he says he thinks Luke is confused. How could he know if she was serious about not liking him, if the teasing was genuine or in jest. Luke was unaware if he really got on the nerves of the tech analyst or if she actually was joking. That he was confused by her intentionally sweet demeanor, that somehow occasionally turned sour around him. That he probably didn't want to bring out the worst in her. And then she counters his very fair point with a, shouldn't he know better? Shouldn't he know why she acted that way.

A few more glances and it's Matt who steps in, having been quiet as he studied her face. As if he knew something he shouldn't, and she hopes he's about to tell her that Luke had said exactly that, and that he was sworn to secrecy. And then she rolls her eyes at the hope that sprung up in her chest as if she wasn't just on her knees crying, saying this painful memory was irrevocable. As if it would all be just that simple.

But Matt says something less than helpful, he says he thinks Luke was concerned about the fraternization rules and the job he now loved. Consequences, if something happened. He mentions he wasn't certain that Luke wasn't just protecting himself and that's why he was okay thinking about someone else.

Reid must've seen her anger bubbling to the surface and he chirps in that Luke wasn't the easiest to read, that he was good at masking his natural body reactions, certainly due to all the training he'd had. To which she counters he should still have been able to read her. Reid makes that face, that face he makes, and for once she finds it irritating instead of adorable.

Tara chimed in with a good, if not irrelevant point, him being emotionally invested in her made her harder to read. He might know some things that she put out there, but some minor jealousy or some flirty banter were not confirmation of how she felt. Penelope knew that, but it didn't hurt to hear from someone else. Emily says that she thinks Luke is tired of waiting around with nothing going on in his personal life and that since he wasn't sure about her feelings, maybe he was tired of guessing.

This is when she wonders if they are just trying to make her feel better or if they are flat out lying. After all, they didn't go talk Luke away from his date. They didn't have a heart to heart with him. They were here.

She asks why it didn't mean as much to him as it did to her and if that was impossibly pathetic. Rossi stands up from his chair and tells her in a very firm voice that Luke most definitely liked her. He could feel it. And that if the two of them weren't so blind, they wouldn't be here now. She remembers, tough love Rossi, this moment making her flashback to when he'd done the same thing after her shooting. She wonders why it makes her feel better, and at that moment she tells them that she can't think about this anymore. Rehashing it and living in her regrets was doing nothing. She informs them that she knows her heart will mend and that time makes the pain more bearable.

She tells them all to go, but JJ announces that they are all having brunch tomorrow, to which everyone agrees. She shrugged her acquiescence. Rossi then volunteers to order it from the fancy breakfast place at the exclusive club he was a member of. She looked at him like he'd lost his mind but he shrugged and told her that his kitten deserved the best and if she'd let them return in the morning, they could have brunch as one big family on that big dining room table she obtained for such occasions.

Again they say they'll be back in the morning. Most of them even offer to stay the night, to which she declines. She vaguely hears JJ tell her to check in with Derek but she knows one of them would update him. Someone says they'll call in a while to check up on her and she tells them not to, she's too tired to stay up. She wants to sleep, no disruptions.

She knows they know she's going to curl up and either cry or get angry. She knows that they don't know what Luke ever meant by his actions, but she also knows that at least they saw it too.

The way he looked at her.

They saw it. So she wasn't so damn insane after all. Maybe Luke was closed off but at least there was something. At the very least they thought he'd considered it. Considered, the only thing that ran through her mind for so long that she can't actually remember what occupied her mind prior to her playing out different scenarios and scenes in her head.

She can't remember what she thought about prior to him. And then she starts to lament the loss of that in itself. The thought that her thoughts had to change. Another loss to deal with, another knockout blow. She can't remember shutting her door or locking it but she knows she did.

She goes to her fridge and then the freezer and then shuts them both in quick succession. She wasn't going to use alcohol as a crutch and she wasn't going to use food either. She wants to be healthy, not just physically, but emotionally. She knows diving in something else right now wouldn't save her, it would just bring her down from a different high.

She sits back on the couch and stares at the wall, she knows thoughts are racing but they are going by so fast she can't grasp them and she can't tell what they are anymore. She does a fantastic impression of a zombie as she brushes her teeth and uses a face wipe, not bothering with her eyes, since scrubbing off the waterproof makeup felt like it would zap all of her remaining energy.

She cares about nothing right now. The world be damned. She burrows under the covers, wanting to turn on tv and zone out like she always did. But somehow, right now, that seems like a crutch too.

She wasn't going to be able to deal with this any other way than in time. No matter how many times a therapist told her to think through her problems, journal about them, and reach out to friends, right now, nothing can erase her aching chest. Nothing but a damn rewind, she was smart, but she hadn't figured out the technology to go back in time yet. She vows to start working on it in the morning, and for the first time since his first date, days ago, she laughs.

That's when she remembers she is strong. She's confident. She got knocked down sometimes and sometimes she got sad. Sometimes she was vulnerable but everything she did was real. Always real. She was always honest and real. She was always trying to grow and evolve. She was always trying to be better. She knew that if she wanted the world to be better, she was the one who had to start it within herself and she tried.

Sure, she was flawed but she still gave it her all. She didn't like lying or deceiving or using or manipulating. That's why she couldn't bring herself to lie to Luke and bump into him accidentally. And that was why she didn't do a search on her. And that's why she didn't actually interrupt his date without real reason. And that's why, in his truck on their way away from his date, she was honest and said there was probably nothing wrong with the woman he'd met. Nope. Nothing at all. Except that she wasn't her.

In that moment she sits up, her ears ringing, as she realizes in all her need to be honest, in her effort to live authentically, she hadn't actually been real about the one thing that mattered, him. Him.

If she was so honest then how on earth did he not know? Because she hid. Behind snark and commentary. She did it to protect herself, and while that was understandable, it wasn't the absolute truth. At that moment she wants to berate herself, she wants to beat herself up, but that wasn't constructive either. She squared her shoulders and with a clear mind, one not filled with alcohol, without a tub of ice cream to numb her pain and her tongue, and without the escapism of tv, she made the scariest decision of her life. The decision to tell him.

Straight out, straightforward. And if he gave her a look of pity, disgust, or confusion she would take it, because then at least she could move on. It was the never knowing that would kill her for sure. One day, the regret would dice her up into pieces and she refused to let that day come because after all, what kind of healthy move was that?

She was either going to be chasing dreams or lamenting about dreams long lost. She nominated the former.

With the most bravery she ever had, she picked up her phone with her hands shaking hard. She drops it in her lap to make fists, trying to quiet the nerves but it's a useless notion. She wants to tell him in person. She wants to tell him yesterday. She wants to tell him the way he deserved to be told.

The way she deserved to make the hardest confession of her life, with the attention and occasion it warranted, but she had to think logistically. She already felt torn apart by him just having a date. A date that didn't even warrant a peck on the cheek or a hug goodbye. And tonight he was with the woman again. If this went better, and without interruption, it might end in something she'd never forget and therefore may never forgive. Even if he technically would have nothing to be sorry for. And she can't even think of that because it would break her.

She decides she has to do this this way, but decidedly, not the coward's way. Just the way she thought was the fairest that she could, now that she'd let it get to this point.

She looked at the time, depending on where he went, he'd probably been on the date for an hour and she decided it was now or never because the longer it goes on, the more chance of him slipping away from her grasp because of his actions. This was the thing she should've done, this was the thing she could've done to avoid it all.

She started typing.

Luke, can I text you about something right now? I'm sorry if I'm interrupting something, I promise it will only take a moment.

She waits, she didn't want to send a text without context that would be even more unfair. She wanted him to know, that at the very least, it was important to her. And that's all she could ask for, after all, did he even owe her anything?

Her tummy hurt from the butterflies making a home there and she waits. Waits for what seems like forever and then she remembers he turns off his phone to be courteous to his dates. She almost wants to bang her head into the wall. But if she had to, she'd ping his phone, go there, and tell him. Even in her sweats, she'd do it, because he had to know.

She couldn't let it go without him knowing and she doesn't want to be rude to her, she truly doesn't, but she can't burn her own life down because of that. She gets up, ready to have to drive somewhere when her phone lights up.

Good thing I learned to keep my phone on just in case. Go ahead, is this about why you were crying?

And a weird happy tear came to her eye as she laughs, because he did notice her and in that moment she is certain she should do this, because didn't he say he was willing to be the one she came to? And here she was, crying.

Yes. Listen, or read, ha oh god I even ramble in texts. Okay nevermind, what I need to say is this, I was crying because I was upset with you for going on a date. But I realize it's my own fault that I'm upset, not yours. You might not have feelings for me but I've got them for you and since you're a friend I hope you don't laugh at me. But that's the thing, hiding it, was killing me. I'm super sorry I'm telling you now. It's stupid and wrong and I didn't want to text this, of all the things I could do, but there it is. I can't keep making myself cry. So, I'm in love with you and it's okay that you don't feel the same. It'll pass. Don't worry. You don't need to say anything.

She takes a huge breath and lets her chest lift from the burden being gone. She could start to move on now. She could let it be in the past. She was surprised she wasn't anxious for a response either. She didn't expect one.

She set her phone on the nightstand, on vibrate, which would wake her up if someone called but a lone text might not. She did want to sleep, she needed to sleep.

She suddenly felt very free. Her heart not so tangled. And her eyes as dry as whatever the opposite of a whistle was. She kicked off her sweats and unhooked her bra, pulling it through her sleeve rather than take the shirt off. She'd only left it on because the boys were there when she'd changed earlier. She got down into the covers. She pulled the heavy fluffy comforter up around her, smelling the cleanliness, happy she'd changed them recently. Something about them being fresh from the wash made her feel even more cleansed after her confession. At least it wasn't her burden to bear anymore.

She put her glasses on the pillow next to her, happy that she had room in her bed, hey, silver linings. And the utter exhaustion of her body and mind put her right to sleep.

She didn't even realize that it was still nighttime when she woke to the sounds. She felt so rested, she looked at her phone it had been less than an hour. Power naps apparently were a real thing.

She squinted, not wanting to put on her glasses, so annoyed that she needed to clean them first. Besides if Sergio was just breaking shit around the kitchen because he wanted water, she'd rather not see the mess she would have to clean in the morning. And then she hears the noise again. It was a thud and she jumped, it was too late at night for a thud like that not to concern her. Then she heard it again, in a rhythm and her groggy mind recognized the sound of a knock on her door. She picked up her phone, briefly remembering she had made a confession, the thought making a chill run up her spine but she pushed it away. She had no texts or calls, he chose not to say anything and that was fair enough. Even if he had thought about her that way once, it didn't mean he did now. It didn't mean shit, he owed her less than nothing, she'd already resigned herself to that fact before she'd sent it.

As she sleepily walked to the door, she assumes it's Derek, maybe JJ, because she looked uneasy when she left and she hadn't checked in again. Knowing JJ, she probably had planned for a forced sleepover all along. But no, Penelope told her no. So it must be Derek because he was checking on her a lot these past few days. A lot.

She'd sort of told him what was happening but not the whole thing. Not every detail and feeling. She also knew now that he'd been in touch with the team, mostly JJ and Reid. He'd surprise her. She knew it. He already had before when she needed him. It wasn't midnight yet, he usually took the flight that got there after midnight because he could still send Hank off to bed first, but there was also a flight that landed at ten that he'd caught before. She figured that's what he'd done, she smiles thinking she would have to tell him off again for wasting money and time but she'd be delighted all the same. She heard the knock again and she notes the knock is too loud and angry to be JJ anyway. Why did Derek even have to intimidate a door? A brief thought runs through her that said it was Luke. She let out a humorless laugh, her road to recovery would be littered with landmines. But at least she was finally in the car.

She sleepily opens the door, speaking before thinking, she says Derek's name and starts to ask what he was doing there, but her question is paused midway through, while it sits on her tongue.

"Luke?" It's the first time she hears her own voice since her mind went on this tangent days ago. Since he went on that date. The first time her thoughts weren't muffling all the interactions with the world around her. It's also the first time she had ever seen him this mad. He was furious. She gulped, she thought she would be shedding more tears but she had no idea they would be caused by him directly. She almost spoke again but she stayed quiet and acquiescent, he could yell at her if he wanted, it would be the least of her worries. Her heart was already broken.

It seems mean to leave it here, but originally I just wanted to exorcise the feelings of heartbreak and betrayal. That whole thing, where we don't know what someone else wants and we don't know if we'll ever get to have them in our lives. It was supposed to be about her process, without a resolution, BUT I did start writing Luke's process. It feels less intense and less therapeutic. I wasn't sure if it was necessary.