Work Text:
“You know, that’s the first time you called me by my -”
“Shut it,” Penelope says, without any bite to the words. Luke is surprised, but pleased, at the flirtatious tone of her voice. He knows she’d never admit it aloud, but he’s getting under her skin. She’s starting to like him. “Let’s be in the moment.”
Luke grins as the elevator doors slide shut.
The atmosphere for the ride down to the parking garage is light, with both Luke and Penelope making small talk about nothing important. But as they step off the elevator and make their way to Penelope’s car - Luke escorting her as he’s done a dozen times before, like a habit, now - she falls silent again. Brooding.
Luke knows she’s thinking about Spencer again. He knows she’ll be thinking about him non-stop until this situation is fixed, and as glad as he is to have made her forget for a five minute elevator ride, he knows that’s just a band-aid over a gushing wound. They reach her door and Luke puts his hand on the handle, ostensibly to open it, but wait to open it - he’s holding her back for a moment longer. He can feel the sadness radiating off of Penelope, and he’s desperately thinking up anything he could say or do to alleviate it.
“Penelope..” he starts to say something, and the words dry up in his throat when he sees her face. Her eyes are sad, but looking at him with hope. Like he’s going to say something that will fix everything. But he knows he has nothing to say.
Instead, without even realizing what he’s doing, he pulls her close to him. He slides his arms around her shoulders and tugs, and she stumbles a little at the unexpected movement, but Luke catches her graciously. Penelope makes a surprised noise, but she returns the gesture, bringing her arms up around his back, clinging to him. Luke sighs and buries his face into her hair. He barely even notices how good her hair smells, like fancy shampoo, or how warm her body is up against his. He just knows he wants to take some of her pain onto himself. He shifts his head down and before he can think rationally about it or stop himself, he presses a kiss onto her temple.
Penelope goes stiff in his arms, and he thinks shit, what did I do that for? He releases her and smiles, trying to play it off, like it’s a normal thing for a coworker to do to another coworker. He doesn’t say anything about it, hoping she’ll let it go, because if she asks him why, he won’t have a real answer for her other than it felt right.
Fortunately, he thinks, she lets it go. She steps back from him, and they’re both staring at each other - neither saying anything, an awkwardness settling in the air between them. Penelope holds up the kitty squeaky toy he gave her and gives it a squeeze. The sound breaks the tension, and they both laugh.
“Good night, newbie,” she says, and she’s slipping into her car and gone before he can say anything else.
***
Penelope is shutting down her computer system for the night when Luke finds her. Her mind is reeling from the day’s events, and the information bomb that Emily just dropped on them, and she doesn’t hear him come in. She’s startled when he calls her name.
“Oh, Luke,” she says, whirling around, putting a hand on her chest. “Don’t do that!”
“Sorry,” he says, actually sounding contrite. Penelope doesn’t know how he manages to be so sincere in just two syllables. One little word. Just one of the many things she - begrudgingly - has come to admire about him.
“It’s okay,” she says, waving her hand. Luke startling her barely even registers on her crap meter anymore. The top of the dial was blown off some time ago by all the other far worse crap going on in her life.
Penelope resumes clicking off her monitors, and turning off the assortment of light-up knick-knacks around her desk. She feels him come up behind her, almost a hesitancy to his movements. She knows recently they’ve been closer than ever before; it’s seemed like lately, bad things just won’t stop happening, and she’s found herself turning to Luke for comfort more and more. He’s become an annoying solid presence in her life without her even realizing it. Penelope is hard-pressed to think of when the switch truly changed from thinking of him as the annoying newbie to friend I can count on. To something even further beyond that.
“How are you doing?” he asks, and he’s close enough behind her that she can feel his breath ruffle her hair. She feels a tingle run down her spine at the sensation and she bites the inside of her cheek, hoping the sharp pain will nip that in the bud. The last thing she needs is her libido acting like a teenager, reminding her of the more shallow - but just as enjoyable parts - of Luke. Like his broad chest, or his thick biceps, or his stupidly kissable-looking lips on his dumb face..
Her emotions are running high, that’s all - it’s bound to make anyone overreact to the slightest little thing.
“I’m okay,” she says lightly. She’s run out of things to turn off on her desk, but she’s a little afraid to turn around, so she just stands there, staring at nothing, attempting to maintain any kind of distance from him, even if only an emotional one.
“Bull,” Luke says, and that makes Penelope whip around, annoyed.
“What do you know about it?” she huffs, denying the accusation even though she knows he’s completely correct. But how dare he have any insight into her psyche?
“I know you’ve always thought that Hotch would come back once the situation with Scratch was over.” Luke puts a hand on her shoulder and runs it down her arm. He leaves it there, solid, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth. The warmth of his hand seeps through the thin fabric of her cardigan, offering her a connection point to Luke. And this is exactly what she was afraid of.
Stupid comforting Luke and his idiot warm and supportive presence, always making her feel safe to let her emotions out and say how she feels.
Penelope senses said emotions breaking through her walls, crawling up her throat, and she hiccups a sob. She wipes around her eyes with a tissue she pulls from her pocket, a leftover from Stephen’s funeral, trying to keep too many tears from falling. “I just.. I miss Hotch. So much. And - and I powered through it before, because, you know.. I thought he’d come back. Eventually. I never considered that he would walk away and leave everything behind.”
“At least he doesn’t have to be in witness protection any more,” Luke offers, trying to make her feel better. It doesn’t work, but she appreciates the effort. “He can visit. You’ll see him again.”
“Yeah…” Penelope says softly. “But it won’t be the same.”
“I know.”
Penelope lets another sob escape her, and before she knows what’s happening, Luke has her pulled in for a hug. She might have resisted it, if she didn’t actually need that hug so badly. She curls an arm up against his chest as he wraps his arms around her, and she lets herself cry. The last time he’d found her crying in her office, she’d tried to push him away. Part of her still wants to do that - the part that is still afraid of anything resembling a close relationship with him. But lately, more and more, she’s wondered why she worries about it at all anymore. He’s proven himself, and not just to her - but the whole team. She’s started to mentally refer to him as her friend ages ago.
What is she afraid of?
Penelope wipes at her eyes and takes a deep, shuddery breath, letting all the emotions flow out of her. The grief about Stephen. The sadness about Hotch. The fear about Luke. You’ll get through this, Garcia, she tells herself. Luke’s arms around her are solid, a welcome feeling. It’s as if the world stops at their edges, his arms a shield. She remembers that time in the garage, some weeks before. He’d held her then, and this felt even better.
And she remembers that he kissed her. She thinks about how his lips had felt against her skin. She thinks about how she went home and dwelled on it for hours before finally falling asleep, and the next day she completely pushed it out of her brain, calling it a fluke in her own mind. But was it a fluke?
She tilts her head up to look at him, and his face is so close to hers her eyes can barely focus on him. She can smell the lightly woodsy scent of something on his skin - aftershave or beard oil, something like that. The smell is slightly intoxicating, and she lets herself be pulled in by it.
And.. she kisses him.
A light peck, at the corner of his mouth. Very close to, but not quite on his lips. Luke looks at her, shock visible on his face, his mouth dropping open slightly.
Her stomach sinks. Oh God, that was a mistake, she thinks to herself. Of course he doesn’t want you to kiss him, he’s your coworker! She panics and pushes him away from her, shoving at his chest. He lets her go and she backs away, bumping into her desk as she does so, knocking over several of the figurines there. “Luke, I’m sorry, I - I don’t know what -”
“Penelope,” he says, cutting her off before she can spiral into a ramble. He regains his composure quickly, and she’s slightly annoyed by that, because she can feel her face going hot and red from embarrassment. “Look, it’s.. it’s been a long, hard day. We’ve both been through the emotional wringer.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” she whispers. But part of her isn’t sorry. Part of her wants more.
She can’t help but wish he’d reacted differently. Held her closer; kissed her on the lips. She sighs and puts her hands over her face.
“Hey, there is nothing for you to apologize for,” Luke says, pulling her hands down. He’s close to her, so close she could kiss him again if she wanted. And he’s looking at her, eyes darting around her face, alighting on her lips and looking away again. Penelope wonders if that’s what he wants, too. But, no - he just has this permanently surprised look on his face. Like he has never considered kissing her romantically before in his life.
We’re coworkers, Garcia. Close, sure. Friends even. But still coworkers. And that’s what you are to him. That kiss in the garage? A friend kiss, obviously.
Penelope nods and he lets her hands go. They’re staring at each other, both lost in the moment, Penelope simultaneously trying to forget the previous two minutes ever happened while also desperately wishing Luke would tell her exactly how he felt by it, until the sound of a door shutting down the hallway makes them both jump. Luke takes a few steps back, and the spell is broken.
“Come on, I’ll walk you to your car,” Luke says after a moment. “Sergio’s probably wondering where his dinner is.”
He grabs her bag and holds out an arm. Penelope breathes a sigh of relief; Luke’s acting normal. Joking with her. He didn’t run screaming from the room. At least she didn’t mess anything up. They can both chalk this up to an overly emotional day and hopefully, never bring it up again.
“I’m ready to sleep for a week,” Penelope mutters as she loops her arm in with his.
“Good thing we got that vacation.” Luke smiles at her, and she smiles back.
It was a bad day, an emotional day, and Penelope can’t wait to go home and put it all behind her.
***
“That was a good time. Wasn’t it, Luke? Wasn’t it a good time?” Penelope asks him, slurring her words as she speaks. Luke looks at her - she’s curled up in a corner of her couch, throw blanket across her legs, and sipping on the glass of water he’d fetched her with strict instructions to drink it all.
He chuckles and turns back to his task of picking up garbage from her coffee table, the remnants of their impromptu get together after the case. Penelope was feeling better, which he was thankful for. He still couldn’t believe the story of her getting shot. It had put a white hot ball of anger in his stomach, and he’d been unhappy to have to go wheels up immediately after finding that information out, knowing that she was struggling while he was gone. Luke was immensely glad that JJ had stayed back to be with her, and even more glad to see her smiling face when they got home. He couldn’t have accepted her invite for a party fast enough, and the night had gone well. Penelope was the life of the party, as usual, and he’d found himself gravitating towards her at every opportunity. He couldn’t go back in time and prevent Jason Clark Battle from ever setting his sights on her, but he could make up for that now.
JJ had dipped from the party early, citing her kids. Spencer and Rossi followed immediately after, using it as an excuse to exit the social engagement. Then it was Matt’s turn - also giving his kids as his excuse to leave - and he offered a ride to Tara and Emily, who had both gotten thoroughly hammered, despite Penelope’s proclamation that this would be an evening of responsible intoxication. Emily was leaning heavily against Tara’s shoulder, giggling over something funny only to her and unable to coherently answer the question, so Tara accepted for the both of them.
Matt had offered a ride to Luke too - and Luke definitely was not going to be able to drive himself, because even though he wasn’t as drunk as Emily and Tara had gotten, he was rather unsteady on his feet - but he declined. He’d taken one glance around Penelope’s apartment and realized he couldn’t leave her to stew in the mess that they’d made. Matt had clapped him on the shoulder and winked at him before leaving, two very drunk FBI agents in tow, singing a Lady Gaga song at the top of their lungs as Matt all but carried them to the elevator.
“It was a good time,” Luke replies to Penelope, shoving plastic cups into a trash bag. “You know how to throw a party.”
“I do,” she says, drawing out the o sound. “You don’t have to do that, y’know.” Luke looks at her and she’s waving her hand at him, as if to say leave it.
“It’s the least I can do,” he says and Penelope gives up and shrugs, wrapping her hands around her glass of water and resuming sipping. But Luke only gets halfway done in his task before he feels the less desirable effects of alcohol hitting him harder, making him feel a bit light-headed. He tosses the bag on the floor and then flops down on the couch. He’s getting a bit too old for nights of drinking like this anymore.
“Quick break,” he says. Penelope is nodding her head at him, almost falling asleep, her eyes half closed. Her hair is messy and her cheeks are pink, a look not unbecoming on her. A thought suddenly pops into Luke’s head - is this what she might look like in bed?
Luke’s throat dries up at the intrusive thought. He grabs the glass of water from Penelope’s hand - she’s starting to droop it to the side anyway, sleepiness loosening her grip - and takes a gulp, willing his body to stop having the reaction it was currently having to that thought.
“Rude,” Penelope mutters, but she uses her now-free hands to pull the blanket up around herself and closes her eyes.
Luke sighs and rubs a hand across his face. For weeks, he’d replayed that moment in their office. How she’d kissed him, and how unexpected it had been - but not unwelcome. And how he’d had to stop himself taking that moment much, much further.
But then she’d shoved him away.
Luke finishes her glass of water and looks at her from the corner of his eye. He was attracted to her - he couldn’t deny that. He’d been attracted to her from the moment he first laid eyes on her, in the middle of the BAU bullpen. How she’d turned her nose up at him after addressing him as ‘Agent Alvez’ with more disdain than he’d ever heard anyone put into his name before, and walked away, presenting him with a view of her backside encased in a skin-tight dress. She was immediately equal parts frustrating and alluring, and he couldn’t deny the effect it had on him. But he’d set that attraction aside; she wasn’t the first person he’d ever worked with that he was attracted to. And she didn’t like him. So there was no sense barking up that tree.
But try as he might, he couldn’t stop himself from breaking through those walls she erected to keep him out. He chipped away here and there, and she’d let him in, little by little. And they’d grown closer.. and closer. And it wasn’t just about attraction anymore, but it was about feelings. Somewhere, some way.. Luke had developed real, actual feelings for Penelope.
He sets the water down and leans forward, putting his head in his hands, holding in a groan at his predicament. He can hear her breath deepening, evening out. She’s falling asleep. Completely unaware that he’s locked in a battle with himself two feet away from her. Luke knows he likes her. To borrow a phrase from his teenage years, he likes her, likes her. But he’s brushed aside those feelings and pretended it was nothing for so long that it’s starting to eat at him.
He wants to act on it. He wants to tell her how he feels. But he doesn’t want to upset what they’ve built together. Luke is proud to have gotten to that point - to reach the part of Penelope that she’d hidden from him for so long. The vulnerable part, the part that never wanted to like him. She is, undeniably, one of the most important people in his life. And he’s terrified of messing that up.
But then in moments like this, when he’s alone with her, and the thoughts he tries to keep hidden are let out to roam, all those fears seem to turn into background noise. Luke slides closer to her on the couch and carefully removes her glasses, which are starting to crawl up her face as she snuggles into a throw pillow. He folds them up and sets them on the coffee table. And when he looks back at her again, her eyes are open. Staring at him.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he says quietly.
“Mmhmm,” she says, though what she is agreeing to, he doesn’t know. She’s still drunk. “You can stay with me tonight.”
Luke blinks at that. “Wha - stay? With you?”
“Yeah,” Penelope says. She’s drawing the blanket closer around her. “You know, here at my place. On the couch.”
He shakes his head at himself. Get out of your own head, Alvez. Of course she meant the couch.
He should say no. He’s staring at his coworker, thinking about how much he cares about her and how much he shouldn’t be doing anything about it, even though every molecule in his body is telling him to. It’s the alcohol, he reasons. Inhibition killer. He should go home and sleep this booze off.
“Well.. I’m too tipsy to drive, so.. thanks, I will,” he says, the words coming out easily even as he knew he shouldn’t be saying them. Traitorous mouth.
Penelope nods and stands up, letting the blanket fall off her. She stretches, raising her arms high above her head, and Luke’s gaze wanders down to her legs where her dress is riding up, and it rides up enough to let him see that she’s not wearing full stockings, but thigh-highs. A band of elastic grips her thighs, and above that, the slightest glimpse of bare skin. Blood rushes straight to Luke’s groin and he looks away from the unintentionally erotic sight, desperately willing his body to stop. He sits on his hands, a maneuver intended to keep him from grabbing Penelope and pulling her down to him, because he suddenly realizes he can’t trust himself.
Note to self: never get drunk around Penelope again.
“I’m gonna go to bed,” she slurs her words, and nods emphatically at him. “Tired.”
Luke just raises his eyebrows and nods back, keeping his mouth shut before he says something stupid.
But apparently, she has to walk past him to get to her bedroom. She’s scootching between his legs and the coffee table when she trips over his feet. And in order to keep her from sailing down to the ground, he has to reach out and grab her anyway. Luke is able to roll her to the side, so she’s half laying across his legs.
“Crap,” Penelope says, then she starts laughing. A full-on belly laugh, and it’s so contagious that Luke starts laughing too. He tries to help her stand up, but she just slips again, and in the cruelest twist of fate, manages to land squarely on his lap. She stops laughing suddenly as she realizes where she is, her legs draped 90 degrees over his, her upper body twisted towards his. He doesn’t know when it happened but his hands are at her waist, holding her tightly, keeping her from moving off.
Fuck, his brain supplies, but it can’t string together any more coherent thoughts than that. Penelope is sitting on his lap, her face inches from his. Her hands are at his neck, and he’s using his grip on her waist to pull her harder against his groin. He can’t imagine that she doesn’t feel the effect she’s having on him.
She’s leaning in towards him, and all it would take to close the gap is a couple inches. A couple more inches, and their lips could be crashing against each other. He could thread his hands through her hair and hold her against him. She could - well, she could do whatever the hell she wanted. He doesn’t care what she does, Luke just knows he desperately wants her hands on him, anywhere. He looks into her eyes and sees his own need reflected there, and he realizes she’s fallen into the same hole he has. Penelope would take him to her bed right then, if he wanted. And fuck, does he want it.
She exhales and tilts her head to the side, waiting for him to make a move, to do something, and he takes it as an invitation. Luke slips a hand behind her head and guides her closer. His lips land on hers, and the kiss is soft and questioning. Penelope immediately parts her lips, granting him access, and he takes the opportunity, sliding his tongue experimentally across her lips. She tastes of peach-flavored lip gloss, and.. and lime.. and salt. She tastes like the homemade margaritas she had been making everybody the whole night.
The margaritas…
Luke pulls back suddenly. He closes his eyes, and he gently slips Penelope off his lap, helping her to stand.
He looks at her again, and she’s confused. Hurt. And it kills him to see it, knowing he was the cause, but he can’t let it happen - not like this. Not when they’ll regret it in the morning and use alcohol as a convenient cover to pretend none of it mattered, when Luke knows if he sleeps with Penelope, that will be an opened door he can never close again.
“We’re both very drunk, Penelope,” he says as an explanation. “We’re not thinking clearly.”
Penelope swallows hard and looks away from him, but she’s nodding. “You’re right. I’ve had way - way too much to drink. I should.. sleep..”
She tries to walk away from him but she’s unsteady. Luke follows her, a hand at her elbow, not wanting her to fall. He gets her to her bedroom door, and once there she pushes at him a little, a small shove at his chest, to create space between them. Luke feels his heart clench but he lets her push him away. Gives her the space she wants.
He knows in the morning he’ll be glad he stopped them, and in the morning they’ll both laugh about how drunk they got and neither of them will say anything about that kiss. They’ll just go back to their usual groove of flirting and friendship and ignoring anything else between them, so they can work together without issue. It’s the pattern they’ve settled into, the pattern that works for them.
He could still overcome this, he thinks. It’s not too late. But he looks at her lips, and then thinks about Monday morning, sitting at the round table. Emily talking about a case, while the two of them sit there and pretend they hadn’t had sex. He doesn’t want either of them in that position.
Luke keeps his hands by his side, letting Penelope move into the doorway, further away from him.
“I’ve got it from here,” she says, her voice thick. Whether from the alcohol, or sleep, or anything else, he couldn’t determine. “Night, Luke.”
She’s gone into the darkness of her room, door shutting softly behind her, before he has a chance to reply.
“Good night, Penelope,” he says to the closed door.
Once again.. fuck.
***
“What about that one?” Penelope says, shouting a little to be heard over the sounds of barking. She points at a dark brown puppy - she’s not sure of the breed; she’s a cat person, after all - with sweet eyes and a lightly thumping tail, in the back corner of the kennel. She just knows he’s cute.
She watches Luke as he kneels down and calls to the puppy, sticking his fingers between the bars to lure him over.
“Hey, don’t do that,” Penelope says, putting a hand on Luke’s shoulder. He looks at her hand and she quickly pulls it back. She clears her throat, attempting to cover the awkwardness. “He might think your finger is a treat and bite it.”
They haven’t spoken about that night at her place, after they both got drunk, and Luke kissed her on her couch. They haven’t spoken about when she threw herself at him in her office, devastated over Stephen and Hotch. They haven’t spoken about.. well, anything. Is it healthy? Definitely not. But any time Penelope even thinks of bringing up the subject, of pulling this whatever is going on between them out into the light to be examined and dissected and categorized, she freezes. She doesn’t want to examine if. She knows if she examines it.. it goes away. That’s what always happens. And she likes what she has with Luke. She likes Luke. She doesn’t want him to go away.
So, blissful ignorance it is. But still, since that night, they’ve been a little off. Which was why she was so happy when Luke called her up to explain his plan about getting a dog for his friend Phil. Helping people was her favorite thing in the world, and to help one of her favorite people help one of his favorite people? Penelope’s helping people kink was being well and fully fulfilled right now, and she’s happy to push aside any weirdness to do it. She just hopes that Luke is able to continue doing that as well. Because they’d been a little cooler with each other since that night, and she misses him.
“He’s cute,” Luke says, smoothing over the brief awkward moment. “Yeah. He could be the one.”
“We should meet him!” Penelope exclaims, bouncing on her feet. Luke is grinning at her, and seeing that full grin on his face alleviates the heaviness in her heart. We’re okay..
“I’ll go tell someone,” Luke says. And then he leans in close to her, whispering conspiratorially. “Guard him with your life. Don’t let anyone else scoop him up.”
“Aye, aye,” Penelope says, nodding her head, and ignoring the way her heart crawled up into her throat when Luke got so close to her. He leaves and she heaves a sigh of relief.
Penelope looks at the puppy, who is staring at her, his head cocked to one side inquisitively.
“We’re getting you a home, little guy,” she says softly. The puppy crawls towards her, scooting forward without ever standing all the way up. Penelope crouches as best she can in her heels and dress to get down to his level, and, ignoring her own earlier directive to Luke, sticks her fingers through the bars. The puppy licks at her fingers and she giggles. She’s never met Phil, but if he’s Luke’s friend, then she knows he’s a good person. And she can’t wait to see him meet his new best friend.
They meet with the puppy and it goes well; out of the kennel he turns into a happy, bouncing, playful pup. He’s in an awkward stage, his paws too big for his body, and his limbs the wrong length. Like a teenager in the middle of a growth spurt. He runs around the little room with them, tripping over his own feet, falling down but immediately getting back up as if nothing happened. Penelope falls in love with him immediately, and she’s not shy about telling that to Luke.
“He’s the one!” she gushes, sitting on a chair, the puppy trying to jump up into her lap. She sees Luke roll his eyes a little, but he’s got one of his patented half-smirks, so she knows he’s on board.
“Does he have a name?” Luke asks the shelter worker. The employee leafs through some papers.
“His name is.. Lou,” she replies.
“Lou! That’s so cute!” Penelope laughs as the puppy finally makes it up onto her lap, a little too big for that, but she holds onto him to keep him from falling as he licks her face. “What do you think, Luke?”
Penelope looks over at him, catching his eye. He’s smiling at her, and Penelope returns it, beaming as she pets Lou. The moment feels normal, not a shred of weirdness lingering between them.
“We’ll take him,” Luke says to the worker.
“Awesome!” she says. “I’m going to get the paperwork started and be right back. You guys are gonna make a great family!”
“We’re not -” but Luke cuts himself off as the employee slips out of the room.
Penelope pretends not to hear the worker’s declaration, or the way Luke jumped to correct her; she gives Lou one last pet then helps him down to the floor where he resumes running around the room, working off his puppy energy.
“Hey, this is a great thing you’re doing for your friend,” Penelope says to him. She tries for contact again, putting a hand on his arm. He doesn’t go stiff or pull away, and she takes that as a win.
“Are you still up for helping me deliver him to Phil?”
“Duh, yeah! Of course I am!” Penelope scoffs. She can’t believe he’s even asking that. “I need to see the joy this little guy is gonna bring to his face.”
“Phil, he’s.. he’s like my brother,” Luke says. He gets a faraway look in his eyes as he talks, one that Penelope has only seen a couple times before, whenever he’s spoken about certain parts of his previous life - in particular, as a ranger. Not that he would ever tell her much, even when she asked.
“You guys went through a lot together, huh?” she asks gently. She knows she has to go slow when it comes to these parts of Luke’s past. If she’s too aggressive or nosy about it, he retreats in on himself and changes the subject.
Penelope realizes her hand is still on Luke’s arm, and she moves to pull away, not wanting to crowd him. But he puts his hand over hers, stilling her. Keeping her close.
“He’s seen me at my worst.” Luke’s voice is quiet; contemplative. “And now I’ve seen him at his, because I think his worst is right now.”
Penelope moves to stand shoulder to shoulder with him, the both of them watching Lou. She’s not even thinking about the previous awkwardness anymore. Her heart is hurting for Luke, and his friend she hasn’t even met yet. She rests her head on Luke’s shoulder, clasping her hands around his arm, holding him tightly. She feels him relax, the tenseness in his arm and shoulder loosening as they stand there, together, watching the puppy amuse himself.
Penelope slips her hands down his arm to clutch his hand, and she pulls it up towards her face. Without thinking about it, she kisses the back of his hand. She doesn’t know how else to communicate what she’s feeling - that she’s sorry for Luke’s friend, and all the horrible things they had to see and do and experience together. She’s sorry that either of them still have to feel pain, despite all the good they’ve done. She just wants him to know that she’s there for him.
She feels pressure against the top of her head, briefly. Did he return her kiss? She isn’t sure exactly, but she knows what it means - thank you. She’s offered her support and he’s accepted it, and Penelope’s heart sings at that.
The door opens and the employee comes barreling in. She immediately starts chattering away about microchips and vaccines. Luke and Penelope slowly extricate themselves from each other, neither wanting to end the moment. But eventually, Penelope releases his hand so Luke can sign the various papers the employee presents him.
Penelope stays back by the wall, watching, proud of Luke for doing whatever he can to help his friend. It’s like Luke can sense her watching him, and he looks up at her and nods. He’s always able to sense what she’s feeling. I love that about him. The thought startles her. Love?
Platonic love, she reassures herself, and drops the subject from her mind as they get ready to deliver Lou to his new dad.
***
“Happy New Year,” Penelope says as she sidles up to him. Dinner ended and the rest of the team made their way to the bullpen, milling around the room in various conversations. Luke couldn’t hear them through the glass but he guessed none of the conversations were work-related, the way everyone was laughing and talking, which Luke was happy about. They deserved this little celebration and a night free of thinking about serial killers.
“Happy New Year,” he replies. He notices the champagne flute in her hands, which still held the first pour of the night that she’d been slowly nursing all evening. She probably doesn’t want a repeat of the last time they’d all been drinking together. And he could hardly blame her - he only had the one glass of champagne himself, then switched to water the rest of the night.
They were at work, so theoretically nothing would happen. But that didn’t always stop drunk people. And Luke didn’t want to cause any further upsets in their relationship. They’d had an unspoken agreement not to talk about that night, and neither of them had brought it up. It had been a little weird at first, but then they settled back into their usual groove. Penelope helping to pick out Lou and give him to Phil was the final hurdle to getting over it and back to normal.
“Any resolutions for the new year?” Penelope is asking him, bringing him out of his thoughts.
He looks through the window to his friends and teammates in the bullpen. Spencer is doing some sort of experiment, sending little objects flying into the air, to the delight of Matt and Tara, who seem to be making bets about distance. JJ and Emily are hanging back and laughing about something, with Rossi watching them all, sitting back in a chair, his feet propped up on a desk looking every bit like a proud dad surveying his brood.
“I don’t really make resolutions,” Luke replies. Though that’s not entirely true. He doesn’t necessarily write out a little list and hang it up on his fridge or anything. But he does like to make promises to himself.
And he’d realized earlier that day that his promise to himself for this New Year’s was to get over Penelope Garcia.
She elbows him, and when he catches her eye, he sees a sparkle of joy there. Luke loves when she looks at him like that. Like there isn’t a single bad thing that exists in the universe, and there is only one emotion to feel - happiness. It was one of the many things about her that had drawn him to her, and he knew it was going to be hard to let go. But he can’t stay in this limbo any longer - the two of them dancing around each other, but never together.
“That’s not very fun,” Penelope pouts. “Do you want to hear mine?”
“Of course,” Luke replied, bowing towards her slightly. “Please, Penelope, what are your New Year’s resolutions?”
“I want to upgrade my computer system, because I’ve been kinda lazy about it. My hardware is getting super out of date. And I want to get back into baking. I used to bake a lot more, but I kind of let it lapse.” Luke turns to look at Penelope, but she’s watching their teammates through the window. Emily and Tara are arguing over a remote, trying to figure out how to tune into a local channel to watch the ball drop. Penelope smiles at the tableau.
“Those seem like attainable goals,” Luke says.
“Mm. Well, I learned a long time ago that you have to be honest with yourself, because if you give yourself unattainable goals, you don’t reach them, but then you also feel really crappy about it to boot.”
Luke nods, thinking about the double meaning of that statement for him - Penelope, the ultimate of unattainable goals.
He resumes staring at his teammates, trying to make the TV work. Eventually, they get it set to the correct channel, and in the nick of time, too. Luke moves next to Penelope, as they watch the glittering ball start to make its descent. Everyone in the bullpen is counting down numbers, shouting from ten all the way to one, until it’s the New Year, and then everyone’s shouting ‘Happy New Year!’, their voices carrying to the round table room.
Luke looks at Penelope standing next to him. “Happy New Year,” he says. He leans down slightly and kisses her on the cheek. It feels safe, but like the right amount of contact not to upset the gentle equilibrium they’ve achieved. And she responds by blushing a little and ducking her head.
Suddenly, Luke’s phone rings. He pulls it out and sees the name: Phil Brooks. “Sorry, it’s Phil. I better take this.”
He answers the phone and Penelope politely moves a short distance away. It was late for Phil to be calling him, but it was New Year’s; hopefully he hadn’t gotten into any trouble. All of Luke’s fears were immediately put to rest when Phil’s loud, drunken voice came through the speaker, making his ear ring.
“Luke! My man! Happy New Year!”
“Hey Phil, Happy New Year,” Luke replies, smiling at the cheeriness he can hear in his friend’s voice. He’d turned a corner since getting Lou, and Luke was grateful, more grateful than he could ever put into words. It was like his friend had come back to life.
“Luke, great news, buddy. I got great news for you.” Phil pauses, and Luke hears him talking to Lou in the background, calling him a good boy. “I had physical therapy today.”
“Oh yeah?” Luke asks, confused as to where this was going, but playing along. “How’d that go?”
“Fine, fine, that’s not what I wanted to tell you though. Remember I was telling you about my doctor?”
Luke groans. Phil has brought up this woman multiple times over the past few weeks. He keeps talking her up, telling Luke he has to meet her. Trying to set them up. But Luke had waved him away every time he did. Because of a certain whimsical blonde-haired technical analyst.
“Well, today, I talked to her about you - told her just the good stuff, I swear. Definitely nothing about that one spring break. Or that time in France. Or -”
“Phil!” Luke cut him off, chuckling, not really wanting a trip down memory lane of all the youthful indiscretions the two of them had gotten up to over the years. “The point, please?”
“She said yes.”
“Yes?” Luke repeats, confused. “To.. what?”
“To going. On a date. With you.” Phil says, with all the practiced patience of someone who has suffered many fools in his time. “Boy, I really am the brains of this friendship.”
Luke just shakes his head, ignoring the latter comment. He’s too caught up in the first part of what he’d said. “What do you mean - I never agreed to that.”
“No, but you’re going.”
Luke grins in spite of himself. Phil was one determined son of a bitch when he wanted to be. He looks across the room at Penelope, who keeps stealing glances at him, obviously impatiently waiting for him to end his phone call. Could he really go on a date with some random woman, when Penelope was right there?
But then flashes of the past year start flying through his brain. Clandestine and drunken kisses. A wish to be more to Penelope than he logically could be. The realization that she didn’t want to cross that line any more than she did, no matter how often they let themselves get carried away. They were coworkers, and friends, and they couldn’t be anything else than that. She meant too much to him to mess that up.
Remember your promise, Luke told himself.
It’s the New Year. And it’s time to try to put Penelope Garcia out of his head.
“Yeah.. yeah, okay,” Luke says to Phil, looking away from Penelope. “Set it up.”
“I already got the date worked out. Next Saturday, Alvez. Be ready.”
Luke scoffs. “You work fast.”
“No time like the present, man. You did me a solid with Lou. Now I’m doing you one.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Phil.” Luke says his goodbyes quickly, eager to end the exchange, and they hang up.
“How’s he doing?” Penelope asks, moving back towards him now that he’s hung up.
“Great, Lou has been like night and day for him,” Luke says, putting his phone away. “He, uh, had some other news for me.”
“What’s that?” Penelope says brightly, and Luke has to turn away. He stares out the window again, where everyone is gathering their stuff and putting on their jackets, getting ready to head home.
“Well, there’s this woman he knows, that he, uh - it’s funny, actually.” Luke pauses and scratches at his head, steeling himself to just get the words out. He laughs a mirthless laugh. “He’s been trying to set me up on a date with her.”
“A.. date?” Penelope’s voice goes high-pitched and uneven. Luke glances at her - she’s staring at him with eyes wide.
“Yeah. Uh, and I said yes.”
The atmosphere shifts significantly, like Luke set off a smoke bomb in the room. The air feels thick and humid suddenly, stilted - and he feels sweat beading on his back.
“Oh.” Penelope blinks at him, her face fallen.
And now Luke feels like a jerk. The two of them have been dancing around each other for some time, but they both knew it could never go anywhere. Right? They both knew that. He had been telling himself that, and he thought Penelope thought the same - he thought that was why neither of them made a real move. But looking at Penelope’s face now, he wasn’t sure they were totally on the same page.
“Penelope -”
“I’m happy for you!” Penelope says loudly. She rushes forward and hugs him. It’s stiff, and Luke doesn’t even have time to react and hug her back before she’s stepped away from him again. She’s pasted a big smile on her face, but he can see right through it. He’s hurt her - more than he thought he would. “Really, Luke. You deserve to be happy.”
“Thanks,” Luke mumbled, feeling in that moment the furthest thing from happiness that was possible.
“I’m going to go,” Penelope gestures at the door behind her, taking a step backwards.
“Wait, let me walk you.”
“It’s okay,” Penelope says. “I actually, I need to.. to think.” Her voice is sad, and Luke hates himself for putting that feeling there. There were a million things he wanted to say, to try to make it right. To undo what he’d just done.
Stop, wait. I changed my mind. I don’t want to date this woman. I want to date you. I want to kiss you. I want to be with you.
But he says none of it. He just nods, respecting her need for space, and she turns and leaves him alone in the empty room.
Why do I feel like I just went through a break-up?
***
Penelope shuffles ahead of Luke, running to get her door for him. She swipes her card and taps her code, and leads the way in. He follows behind her, setting down her box of stuff on her computer chair.
Penelope looks around, and takes a deep breath. Home. I’m home. Being excommunicated to Cyber Crimes had been one of the worst things to ever happen to her, and coming back to the BAU was the biggest hit of elation she could have hoped for.
“Bet you’re glad to be back?” Luke asks as he starts rifling through the box, pulling out her little friends and knick knacks. She watches him as he puts things back on her desk - mostly in the wrong places, but he’s trying his best, and she can’t really fault him. She’s not sure she can remember exactly where everything was before herself.
“That would be the safest of all bets ever made, my friend,” she laughs. It’s hard not to feel anything but unbridled joy at the moment.
Luke pulls out another item from the box and pauses. It’s the squeaky cat he gave her - from what felt like a million years ago. She crosses the short distance between them and plucks it from his fingers. Penelope loves this toy. It reminds her of Luke, and all the ways he’s cared for her. A warm feeling fills her when she looks at it. She gives it a squeeze, making it squeak, and he grins.
“You still have that,” he says, sounding thoughtful.
“Of course! I’m insulted that you think I’d ever get rid of one of my friends.” Penelope places the kitty on her desk, under her main monitor.
“Does that include your human friends, too?”
Penelope tears her gaze away from the toy to look at Luke. He looks nervous, his hands tucked into his jeans pockets. After she interrupted Luke’s first date with Lisa - which she totally had zero ulterior motives for, cross her heart and hope to die - she’d felt a blanket of sadness envelop her.
Because when she thought about it, it made sense. Luke wants more from life, more than she can give him. He wants a partner - probably one a bit less addicted to neon colors and stuffed animals - and a stable home life, and, and.. Penelope cuts off her line of thinking. She’s been down this road with herself a hundred times already, and was the main cause of the sadness. But the crux of it was, they couldn’t be anything, she and Luke.
They’re coworkers. And that’s that.
She has tried to be happy for him, and she is, in an academic sense. She doesn’t want him to be as miserable as she is. He doesn’t deserve it. But in order to keep herself feeling happy for Luke and not dwelling on her own misery all the time, she’d had to give Luke a little cold shoulder. She’d stopped replying to his texts as much. Waited until he’d sent a few before replying. Waited a couple hours to reply. She turned down an evening visit to O’Keefe’s once Luke had already accepted the invite. And at all costs, she avoided getting on the elevator with him, or any other private, enclosed space. This was the first time they’d been in close contact since the date interruption.
She knew he’d notice - she wasn’t really expecting him not to. But she thought he’d understand.
“I’m not getting rid of you, Luke,” Penelope says, giving him a soft smile that fades quickly. It’s all still feeling a little too raw to have a conversation like this. But she needs him to know that it’s temporary. “Never.”
Luke nods, his lips pressing into a line. She can tell he isn’t sure he believes her, but thankfully, he doesn’t push it.
“How - how are things going with.. Lisa?” Penelope asks. She cringes a little at herself, wondering if she could sound any more pathetic about it.
“Uh, good. Great, actually. We, uh, we just made plans for tonight, now that all the craziness with Barnes is over.”
“Oh? What do you have planned?” Penelope kicks herself. Why is she asking? She doesn’t really want to know. But a part of her needs to know - to know just how serious things are.
“We’re going to a steakhouse,” Luke says, looking away from her. “Lisa’s favorite. And then pool after, probably. Lisa, she’s - she’s really good at pool.”
Penelope swallows and tries not to let any emotions show on her face. Steak and pool. Neither a thing Penelope would be interested in in a million years. She feels a door slam shut in her chest, the reverberation of it echoing through her body. Luke’s moving on from their - whatever it is they have. Penelope can’t even put a name to it; it’s ridiculous she’s this upset, but she can’t help how she feels. She’s going to cry about this later, she knows, because how could she have ever fooled herself that she would be the kind of woman that Luke would go for? But at least it’s confirmation. They were never meant to be, and if she’s honest with herself, it’s best this happened before her feelings spiralled (too far) out of control. Before she let herself get hurt too much.
“Don’t let her take all your money,” Penelope quips, pushing through her feelings of loss. She’s pleased to note that there’s not a hint of waver to her voice. She doesn’t want him to know the turmoil she’s going through. She wants to silently suffer, drink an unholy amount of chamomile tea while in bed with a book, and to try to forget she’d ever felt this particular way about him.
“Too late,” he replies, and smiles very briefly, almost a ghost of a smile before it’s gone again. “I should go. I have.. paperwork.”
“Oh, before you go,” Penelope holds up a hand as if to touch him on the shoulder, but she pulls back before making contact. She reminds herself she needs to keep things a bit more professional between them, now. “Maybe the three of us could go to lunch some time.”
He’s surprised by that. “Lunch?”
“Yeah! If she’s going to be in your life, I want to get to know her,” Penelope says, and she’s surprised to hear the level of nonchalance she’s managed to work up in her own voice. But, she realizes it’s true. Luke is her friend, and she cares about his life. And if Lisa is going to be part of her life, then she knows she’ll have to try and have a friendly relationship with her.
“Uh, sure,” Luke says. “I think she’ll be happy you want to hang out. You really made an impression on her.”
“I tend to do that,” Penelope replies.
Luke nods, thinking fondly back again to his own first impression of her. Then he banishes the thought. “I, uh, I should.. get back to work.”
“Yeah, I have to..” she waves vaguely at her computers, but doesn’t finish the thought. She’s suddenly bone-tired. Thoughts of Luke had fallen to the side with Linda Barnes in their lives - Penelope hadn’t had time to fret over romance when her entire world was being torn apart. But that was over, and now this incarnation of her relationship with Luke was over, all on the same day, and it was all catching up to her.
“Okay,” Luke says. He looks at her, then away. “I’ll see you later.”
“Before you go..” Penelope walks up to him, right up to his chest. He looks mildly alarmed and tries to back away, but there’s a desk behind him and he can’t. She would laugh at him if she wasn’t so broken-hearted. Instead, she puts her hands on either shoulder, and she’s wearing heels today, but they’re shorter than usual, so she has to tilt up just a little bit to reach her goal. She angles her head and kisses Luke on the cheek. Closed lips, soft pressure - a brief press before she breaks contact. No lingering.
A friendly kiss.
When she pulls back, she throws on another megawatt smile. Penelope knows she’s overcompensating, but she firmly believes in the old adage of fake it til you make it. Luke looks her up and down, once, but slowly - almost like he’s committing her to memory. Committing to memory this moment between them, this time before she knows things are about to change forever, with Lisa in his life.
He doesn’t say anything else - neither of them do, before he leaves, gently closing her door behind him, a sense of finality about it.
Penelope sighs and moves the box off her chair, flopping into it. Her eyes are immediately drawn to the kitty toy, and she smiles, feeling the same warmth flood through her as always, warring with the sense of loss that’s settled in her stomach. That part of their relationship - that had never even really started - was over. Luke Alvez is her friend, and that’s all he’ll ever be.
She picks up the toy and squeezes it, the squeak sounding small in her cavernous office - as small as she feels.
“Goodbye, Luke,” she whispers to the kitty before setting it back down and booting up her computer, getting to work.