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They were in one of Penelope Garcia’s favorite clubs. However, she didn’t notice the bright lights, the music, or the fact that it was pink feather boa night. She sipped her peach daiquiri thoughtfully.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, Mama?” Derek Morgan asked playfully.
Penelope blinked and looked at him. “What?” she asked absently.
Derek tapped her forehead. “What’s melting your brain?”
Penelope batted his hand away. “Well, I expected Hotch to ditch us after one drink. And I was happy that JJ stayed for two drinks before she and Will left. I’ll have to talk to the Boy Genius about not coming at all.”
Derek laughed and pointed to Emily Prentiss on the dance floor surrounded by hot guys and girls. She danced with a pink feather boa around her neck. “And Prentiss?”
Penelope waved dismissively. “We all know she has a wild side and she deserves to enjoy herself.”
Derek took a swig from his beer. “Okay, so what’s wrong?”
Penelope nodded towards Dave Rossi at the bar, chatting with two very tall, muscular women. One was thin with dark brown skin and braided black hair. She wore a black sequined dress and high heels. The other was pale with bright green eyes and wavy red hair. She was stunning in a blue evening gown and sandals. “I know super agent’s seen a lot but why isn’t he the least freaked out by any of this?”
“What do you mean?” Derek asked blandly, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. “I thought you know those two. You said they’re your friends.”
“They are, but Caramel and Reilly are a couple of drag queens.”
“He knows that.”
Penelope sighed. “I know he knows that. It’s just that he’s so old school…”
Derek’s smile suddenly disappeared. “Dave can be an arrogant asshole, but he’s no bigot.”
Penelope took Derek’s arm and propped her chin on his shoulder. She pouted. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to insult your man.”
Derek’s fond smile was back. He kissed the top of her head. “Okay, Mama.”
“He and Hotch are the ones I really expected to be uncomfortable. I’m more than fine with being wrong.”
Derek lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “If you’re really interested, ask him about his Papa and Maman some time.”
Penelope’s brow furrowed. “Isn’t Maman French for Mama?”
“Yup.”
“What are you talking about?”
Derek snickered and gave her an evil smile. “Oh, no. I’m not making it that easy for you.”
Penelope’s eyes got wide. “But--”
Derek put an arm around her and gave her a one armed hug. He finished his beer in two quick gulps. Then he jumped up excitedly. “Wait till you see me get the great David Rossi dancing.”
Penelope laughed. “No, not even for you.”
Derek grabbed the feather boa he left draped over the back of his chair. He wrapped it around his neck with a flourish. “A twenty says I can.”
Penelope stuck her hand out. “You’re on.”
Derek shook her hand to seal with deal. He winked at her. Then he danced his way through the crowd over to the bar.
Penelope sipped her drink again, watching Derek. She watched the way he danced in front of Dave. As she thought, Dave put his hands up in resistance. Derek turned to show off his butt. She could tell that Dave appreciated the sight because of the way his mouth hung open but he still didn’t move.
She squealed when Derek pressed flush against Dave, still moving to the music. He rested his hands on Dave’s hips, pressed their foreheads together, and whispered something that she would’ve done just about anything within her goddess powers to hear. So, she wasn’t surprised when Dave laughed and nodded.
She danced in her chair as Derek threw the feather boa around Dave’s neck and pulled him onto the dance floor. Derek took a split second to grin her way and she raised her glass to him. “He got me on a sucker’s bet.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” a deep, melodious voice teased.
Penelope looked up at Caramel. “Tell you what?”
Caramel took Derek’s vacated seat and scooted closer to Penelope. “You mean you didn’t know?”
“Know what?”
Reilly rushed over to the table. She plopped a fresh daiquiri down in front of Penelope. She took the chair on Penelope’s other side. “Your friend knows Zaza Napoli.”
Penelope stared from Reilly to Caramel and then back again. “Who? Rossi?”
Caramel squeezed Penelope’s hand. “Your friend David Rossi told us that he knows the Zaza and Renato Baldi.”
Penelope’s jaw dropped. “No way.” She shook her head. “Papa and Maman,” she muttered. “No way.”