Chapter 1

AN: I'm back from camping! I wrote this story awhile back, around the middle of season five, so it fits better there than with the current (Lovely) season six...but still, it definitely works with our lovebirds. :)

Derek was sitting at dinner with his girlfriend, Elizabeth. They'd been dating for about five months now; nothing too serious as far as he could tell. Originally, he was thinking that Elizabeth might be "the one." He was getting up there, pushing forty. It was time to consider moving on to that next step.

Moving in together. Derek didn't believe he'd ever marry. He really wasn't the type.

After the last month, he was more than certain she wasn't the one after all. She talked incessantly, didn't really give a damn what he thought, insisted on events they attended, carped about his work and his schedule, and even stated she didn't like his friends.

It was a no-brainer; pretty soon, he was going to dump her. He wondered why he stayed in this relationship as long as he did.

Scratch that, he knew exactly why he was in the relationship...and it had nothing to do with conversation.

That just wasn't a good enough reason anymore.

Still, Derek didn't have time to find a new girlfriend. He was in town so rarely and worked so much. Unless he wanted to date someone who worked for the FBI, he wasn't going to meet anyone. He tried that in the beginning. He slept with a huge amount of trainees; looking back, he was rather ashamed of it. Being a supervisory special agent, he really shouldn't have been getting the trainees drunk and having private parties with them.

Oh, well. Live and learn.

"Whose wedding are we going to?" Elizabeth asked excitedly. Her deep blue eyes lit up at the mention of a wedding.

"Marshall Bates," he said, eating a bite of his linguine. "A college friend of mine. Good guy, great ball player."

"You know, Derek," she said, leaning across the table and lowering her eyelashes at him. "A wedding might get you interested in thinking more about us and our future."

Oh, shit. Derek thought. Not this.

"It's just a wedding date. Nothing more than that."

She stiffened. "Are you saying you haven't even considered making a permanent move with me?"

He knew it at that moment, he was in it deep. He was a horrible liar; he tended to look very constipated when he lied. He didn't really want to lie to her anyway. It wasn't in his nature. "I haven't really considered it, no."

She gasped and looked completely indignant.

"Elizabeth…honey," he backpedaled, trying to soothe some ruffled feathers. "We've only been dating for five months. That doesn't seem like anywhere near enough time to be thinking about forever."

"Really, Derek?" she questioned, narrowing her eyes. "That's a big surprise. I thought that was plenty of time, because I certainly had considered forever with you."

"I think you are jumping the gun..."

She continued to glare at him. "Am I supposed to just continue to sleep with you, without any sort of real commitment?"

"There's commitment," he answered grimly. He knew this wasn't going to go over well. "I'm not sleeping with anyone else right now."

"Well! I am sorry that has been such a hardship for you. " She stood up and threw her napkin on the table. "Derek, you may be really good in bed, but you are a lousy boyfriend!"

"Calm down, Elizabeth," he said gently in his best coaxing voice. "You're causing a scene."

"Oh, no, I'm not!" she proclaimed loudly, her mouth pinched from stress. "This is causing a scene!"

With that, she picked up her glass of wine and threw it in his face. She turned on her stiletto heels and walked stiffly out of the restaurant, mindless of the many people staring.

Derek took his napkin, wiped his face, and continued eating his linguine.

"She did what?" Penelope said over the phone. He could tell she was trying hard not to snicker.

"Baby, I don't want to say it again," he said, groaning with displeasure. He knew she understood and was teasing the hell out of him for it.

"Alright, Hot Stuff," she said with a slightly stiffled giggle. "I shall remain your cher ami, and not tease you anymore."

He wasn't buying it, but he didn't mind. She made him feel a whole bunch better regardless. "I just don't get it."

"What, handsome?"

He sighed. "Why she acted that way. I didn't lead her on; I told her straight out that I wasn't the marrying kind. Yet she went there anyway, and-"

"Oooh, bad girl," she interrupted, that teasing tone back in her voice. "Wanting to be married to a gorgeous, intelligent, funny FBI agent." She clicked her tongue in mock disapproval. "Wonder why she would think that way?"

"Garcia, you know in this line of work, marriage doesn't work," he said, getting a little frustrated. "I mean, look at Rossi and his three marriages, Hotch-"

"Hotch doesn't see his marriage as a mistake," she said softly.

"Well, he's wrong," Derek said flatly. "We see too much danger; it's not good."

Nothing she said was going to change his mind on that. He didn't mention his mother who fell so in love with his father. She was a one man woman, and had been alone for the past twenty-seven years. Although his father didn't die in the line of duty, he could've, and he wouldn't have had a choice. Derek was very aware of his own mortality. He figured he didn't have a choice, either. However, he had a choice about marrying, and he wasn't going to do that to another woman.

"Maybe some woman would think you're worth the risk," she murmured encouragingly.

"Yeah," he said, intent on changing the subject. Derek shook his head. Although Garcia was his best friend, and a hell of a beer drinking buddy, she was still a woman, and a romantic. It was useless talking to her about this.

He changed the subject. "Got any friends willing to go with a chocolate Adonis to a wedding next weekend?"

"She did stick you on short notice, didn't she, baby?"

"Laugh it up, silly girl," he growled. "I'm desperate here."

"Just go stag," she said.

"I said two on the damn response." He couldn't go alone. Not to something where all his college buddies would be. He didn't want them thinking he couldn't get a date, it would be mortifying. He blanched at that thought.

"I don't know why it's such a big deal, Morgan," she replied. "But if you need a date, I'll go."

This time he laughed. "I don't think Ol' Lynch will let you within forty feet of me on a date, baby."

"Well, he's a non-issue as of two days ago."

She didn't sound upset. Still, he added, "Sorry about that."

"Don't be. It was mutual. We had irreconcilable differences."

He wanted to ask, but he didn't. Instead, he just said. "Thanks for the offer. I'll let you know."

"Derek, now or never," she said, sounding rather irritated. "I am going to make plans for Saturday if you don't say yes."

"Yes, fine," he said, sounding irritated himself. "We'll go. As friends, of course."

She laughed. "Please, sweet cheeks. Like I would consider anything more with you. Methinks I know you too well for that!"

"Pick you up Friday at eight," he said.

"Wait. It's a Saturday wedding, why—"

"It's in Virginia Beach, angel, we need to be well rested," he said, starting to smirk to himself. "And you know what they say about that town…Virginia Beach is for lovers."

"Oh, yeah. You keep dreaming about getting a piece of this tech goddess, Morgan," she responded flatly. "Good night."