Between The Lines

Static and Silence

POV: Penelope Garcia

The hum of computers was usually comforting. Like a lullaby of logic, ones and zeroes singing her into a sense of control. But today? Today it was like static pressing against her skull.

She sat in the nerve center of the BAU, tapping a glitter-painted nail against her desk. Monitors flared with live feeds, case files, surveillance, and scrolling data. Everything was in its place – except her thoughts.

Penelope Garcia knew something was wrong. The numbers didn't lie. Three missing women in Boise, Idaho. All between 25 and 30, brown hair, high GPA backgrounds, involved in community service. Taken without a trace. That was the lie. No unsub was that clean.

"I've got movement," she muttered, almost to herself. Then louder: "Hotch, you're going to want to see this."

Aaron Hotchner's stern voice crackled in over the intercom. "We're en route. Anything that can help narrow down the location?"

She leaned forward, eyes darting across the screen. "I think out unsub works in public sanitation or city maintenance. These three women all reported pothole complaints on the city's app within two days of going missing. He's using city work requests to find isolated women alone at home during the day."

"Send everything to the jet. Good work, Garcia."

A warmth bloomed in her chest at the praise, but before it could linger, a deeper, rougher voice slid through her headset.

"Baby Girl."

Her heart skipped.

"Hey, Derek," she said, immediately reaching for her mug – empty. A good distraction was always worth savoring.

"You holding up okay? You've been glued to that keyboard all day."

His voice was concern wrapped in flirtation. They always played this game, and she loved it. Sometimes she lived for it. But today, with the weight of three women she couldn't save yet, it felt heavy.

"I'm good. Just tired. And irritated. And worried. And possibly turning into a human USB port."

Derek chuckled. "That's my girl."

"My circuits sizzle when you call me that."

There was a pause.The kind that didn't feel empty. The kind that felt like something not being said.

"I mean it," he added, more quietly.

Before she could respond, the jet connection cut. She was left staring at the blinking cursor on her screen, wondering what exactly he meant.

POV: Derek Morgan

The jet was quiet, save for Reid muttering statistics under his breath and Rossi flipping a page of his book.

Hotch has that look again – stone-faced, locked in, already ten steps ahead. JJ was scrolling through her tablet, and Emily stared blankly at the clouds outside.

Derek Morgan stared at the screen in front of hum, but it was Penelope's voice echoing in his head.

He didn't like when she sounded tired. He hated when she sounded helpless. That wasn't her. She was vibrant, unstoppable, a force dressed in bubblegum pink with more firepowers in her brain than half the unit carried in sidearms.

He glanced at the team. They all knew about him and Garcia – even if he and Penelope weren't technically anything. Not yet. But it was there, humming between them. Years of it. Flirting like breathing, comfort like skin.

"She's onto something," he said aloud.

Reid looked up. "You mean Garcia?"

"Yeah. The city maintenance angle. We should cross-reference city employees with criminal records, especially any who've been reprimanded for inappropriate behavior."

Rossi nodded. "Or fired but never convicted."

Hotch was already pulling up files.

But even as they worked, Morgan's mind drifted back. To Penelope's tired voice. To her laughter that didn't quite sparkle today.

He didn't know what was happening to him, exactly. He'd dated. Hooked up. Been with women who were beautiful, brilliant, brave. But none of them were Garcia. She didn't fit in a category.

She fit in his heart.

God help him.