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A light tap on the door draws Penelope's attention toward it, and she readies herself to nip another onslaught of well-meant birthday wishes in the bud. She managed it well enough that morning, steamrolling across all 'happy birthdays' by presenting the team's latest case in a flurry and then hurrying them away to the jet.
JJ, always the first one to pick up the finer nuances on Penelope's emotional state, informed her quietly on her way out that there was a cake in the office fridge "for no particular reason", but even the promise of chocolate and fondant and all manner of other goodness doesn't make Penelope feel any better about it. She doesn't care if it's childish or vain, doesn't care if age is just a number—she just can't deal with the big, scary digits hanging over her head today. So she turns toward the door, ready to ruthlessly interrupt whoever has stopped by.
"Hi!" The corners of Alex's mouth quirk up in a soft smile as she pushes the door open and pokes her head inside. "You got a second? I have caffeine."
"It's you! Oh!" Penelope brightens for a moment, then eyes the takeaway cup in Alex's left hand suspiciously. It's her current favorite, gingerbread latte with little bauble-shaped sprinkles on top of the whipped cream and no doubt an extra shot of espresso. Coincidence? Alex didn't congratulate her that morning, but that was because Penelope had gone into the office extra early to avoid exactly such an interaction. She hasn't exactly told her live-in girlfriend that she would prefer to just pretend it isn't her birthday, but she thought Alex would've picked up on it anyway. The surprise beverage makes her wonder if she's wrong, not to mention that Alex rarely has a reason to stop by the office. She hasn't been part of the BAU for years now, and her teaching job at Quantico doesn't bring her to the Hoover building very often. "What are you doing here?"
"I've got a meeting upstairs." Alex comes over to hand her the cup, unbuttoning her jacket and unwinding the thick, red scarf Penelope got her for Christmas with her free hand, her own coffee still in her other hand. "About that research project I was telling you about last night."
"Oh. Right." Penelope nods, waits a beat for the impending congratulations and, when none come, takes a long slow sip of her drink. "Oh my god. This was just what I needed." She leans back in her chair, letting her shoulders drop from where they were hovering right around her ears. "Thank you."
"I figured you might need it, since you went in so early this morning."
Penelope nods emphatically. "Yeah, I think it's going to be a long day..." She glances at her monitors, where a number of searches are running.
Alex hums sympathetically, then shakes her head. "Well, I should get to my meeting. I'll text you later."
"O—okay. Later."
The next moment Alex is gone, and Penelope is left behind feeling relieved but perplexed.
It's been a long day, just as Penelope suspected. Working the tech end while the team is out in the field is a special kind of chaos—moments of intense information exchanges, searches running alongside other searches and research deep dives, interspersed with periods of gruelling inactivity as she waited for a phone call with her next set of instructions. It's nearly nine, and right in the middle of one of those lulls, when her private phone buzzes.
"Still at the office?"
She smiles at Alex's name on her display and sends back a thumbs up and a frowny face. Moments later, another message comes in.
"I'm just done grading papers. Want me to bring some food by on the way home? Vietnamese?"
Penelope hesitates for a moment, but with the mention of food her background hunger suddenly takes center stage and her stomach rumbles. If Alex hasn't remembered her birthday so far, what difference will dinner make?
"Sounds gr8", she writes back.
Alex responds with a laughing emoji and the words "B there @9". Most of the time Alex texts the way she writes papers, but she finds chatspeak to be, in her words, "linguistically innovative and endearing", and is always happy to respond in kind. Though sometimes her attempts read more like rebuses.
At a few minutes past nine Alex arrives carrying takeout boxes. They eat in companiable chatter, interrupted twice by Penelope's phone and the need for quick background checks and tracking a cell phone. When the food is done, Alex stays for a little while to tell Penelope about her meeting, but eventually she stands up and stretches a kink out of her back. "I guess I should head home. School night." She smiles and reaches for her coat.
Penelope fiddles with a pen, hesitating. Her voice carries a little quiver of tension when she finally speaks. "Hey, Alex?"
"Hm?"
Penelope looks up, finding Alex's brown eyes glittering down at her, her hands stilled in the middle of buttoning her coat.
"You know I turned 40 today, right?"
Alex smiles, and leans down to kiss her cheek. "Of course I do."
Penelope blinks and then smiles back, a little sheepishly.
Alex's fingers brush over her wrist as she heads for the door. She stops for a moment, glancing back over her shoulder. "I won't wait up. Good night, Penelope."
Watching her leave, Penelope feels something untangle inside her. Of course she knows. Knows it's her birthday, knows she's 40 now, knows all the things that makes her feel. Of course.
A chuckle escapes her, some of the nerves of the day drifting out on the soft sound. She checks her monitors, her phone. Nothing needs her attention right now, so she gets up and heads for the staff kitchenette in search of the promised birthday cake. She could use a piece. After all, it isn't every day that you turn 40.
