Author's Note: We have a couple of announcements for you all today. We're proud to announce that signups are open for the Fanfic Challenge - Round 4 on our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" or, as we like to call it, the "PYOP Challenge" (pick your own pairing challenge) through September 1st. For those interested, simply go to the forum to the PWOP Challenge thread and sign up with your favorite pairing. On September 2nd, we'll assign you a scenario to write provided by some of our lovely fellow authors. This will give everybody an opportunity to write what they love and provide readers with some awesome stories. Please sign up at the forum or shoot us a PM signifying your willingness to participate. So, please come join the fun and let's make this the most successful challenge yet!
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Penny's Got a Gun
"You all heard her!" the criminal yelled out, attempting to scoot away from her injury-inflicting foot. "She's threatening me again! I want to file charges this time!"
"My house, my rules," Garcia answered swiftly, scooting closer as she aimed her weaponized foot once again. "And the way I understand it, all I have to do is drag your sorry carcass over the doorway for it to be justifiable homicide. And since you're already here, I'd hate to waste a perfect opportunity!"
"You know what," the bumbling cat burglar spat, his forehead furrowing in consternation, "you're nuts! When karma circles around to you, lady, I wanna front row seat!"
"Oh, yeah?" Penelope snorted belligerently, "Well crazy is as crazy does!" Jerking her head around to glare at her teammates, she asked, "And did anybody else notice that he just threatened a federal agent? Doesn't that carry like a bazillion year prison sentence?"
"Well, it WOULD," Reid mused, tilting his shaggy head to the side, "IF you were actually a federal agent. But, as a technical analyst, you're really a federal employee and no more important than the average citizen in terms of punishments and penalties."
"Seriously?" Penelope asked disbelievingly, her eyes widening almost comically. "You're giving me a lesson in semantics? NOW?"
Blushing, Reid gulped as he took an involuntary step back, hoping to escape the death glare aimed in his direction. "N-no. Forget I said anything," he said, waving a hand in the air as if erasing some unseen chalkboard.
"I think that would be a good idea," Garcia glared. Turning back to the hapless criminal, she growled, "Anything else you'd like to say, Bozo?"
"Yeah," the idiotic young man grumbled, meeting her gaze head on. "I'm pretty sure I've got a lawsuit here, waiting to happen," he said, lifting his injured arm gingerly. "How do you feel about that?"
"Did this bubbling bandit just threaten to SUE me?" Penelope shrieked, turning toward JJ for support.
"Sounded like it to me," Morgan answered instead, turning his dark gaze toward the squirming kid on the couch. "Listen, punk, now's not the time…."
"To piss me off any further, you despicable little trellis troll!" Garcia interjected, reaching for a carved letter opener on her desk as she turned determinedly. Narrowing her eyes, she examined the specimen before her as she said, contemplatively, "Should I start with his heart or his kidneys first? I hear both organs bring a high dollar on the black market nowadays, and Esther needs a new set of wheels. You hear what I'm saying?"
Throwing up his unbandaged arm, the criminal barked excitedly, crazy eyes shimmying around the room, "You all heard her! She's doing it again! You've got to protect me before she carves me up like a Christmas goose!"
"Oh, I've got better uses for your liver than just plain ole pate, nimrod," Garcia started, taking a purposeful step toward the couch.
But before the best technical analyst ever gracing the halls of the Federal Building could commit what was certain to be a felony in at least the blue states of the Union, Aaron Hotchner smoothly blocked her path as he nodded toward Morgan. "Now would be a good time to take away any potential weapons," Hotch said drily, motioning toward the pointed object firmly gripped between her fingers. "I think she's been armed enough tonight."
"Armed, yes," Rossi nodded, rolling his eyes. "Accurate is another story," he said drolly, shaking his head as he surveyed the room again.
"One more word, Mr. Hotshot Profiler, and I'll be practicing my skillful aim on you," Garcia threatened.
"Now, THAT was threatening a federal agent," Reid said knowledgably, bobbing his head emphatically as he took a step in Rossi's direction.
Slipping between Spence and Garcia quickly, JJ shook her head. "He's babbling, Garcie. He comes in peace," she told her irate friend in what she hoped was a conciliatory tone.
"I think he might be the only one that did tonight," Garcia huffed, looking around at her colleagues. Slamming one slipper shot foot against her hardwood floor, she growled, "How much longer am I gonna have to suffer the invasion of half of the DCPD? I wanna clean my house!"
"Will just told me that they're just about finished here," JJ soothed, patting Garcia's stiffened shoulder. "And this...gentleman..." she said, nodding toward the stone faced subject of Garcia's wrath, "will be residing for the foreseeable future within the warm confines of the 13th precinct."
"Whoa...," the clueless culprit suddenly yelped, well versed with DC's penal system and all its various areas. It was a well known fact the 13th housed some of the roughest criminals in the city. "This is the tenth precinct's territory!"
"So sorry," JJ smiled sweetly, her teeth baring for a brief moment. "The tenth has a full house. But, the 13th is holding a reservation just for you. We called ahead."
"Come on," the inept criminal moaned, flopping his head back against the top of the sofa. "I was just tryin' to feed my family. I wasn't gonna hurt anybody. I'm a good guy!"
"Yeah, a regular Robin Hood," Morgan snorted, hoisting the attempted felon to his feet with just the right amount of force. "Let's go."
Watching as her nighttime nemesis was escorted from her apartment, Garcia released a relieved sigh. Looking around the destruction that was her apartment, she was struck again by a memory of a long ago night. A memory that she had packed away into the deep recesses of her mind, hoping to never again relive those dark, desperate moments….
"I don't believe in guns," she'd said then, panicked and scared as she'd huddled in the corner, clutching the Glock that Morgan had shoved into her cold hand.
"Trust me, they are very real," her longtime hero had said, his tone brooking no argument as he adamantly pressed the gun harder into her grip. "Take it!"
…..Boy, were they ever real, she thought, looking around at her bullet riddled home. But, tonight, that gun might have saved her life.
Daisy might have died...but Penelope Garcia had been born again. And with a small smirk, she began to sing softly, Aerosmith playing in her head, "Penny's got a gun..."