Work Text:
Something, or rather some things were not quite right with David Rossi.
An invitation to the FBI's annual black tie event had been delivered to the premiere BAU team and not attending was not an option. They had just closed a very high profile case in New York City that had brought them and the Bureau a lot of very good publicity and the upper echelon was taking advantage of that fact. The party would be attended by the movers and shakers in D.C. The FBI was not above using anything in its power to secure their place and funding for the coming year.
Morgan, Prentiss and Hotch had managed to come up with dates for the evening. JJ brought Will, no surprise there, and even Reid had brought someone. Garcia had recently broken up with Kevin and didn't feel like trying to find an escort so she came by herself. What surprised everyone is that David Rossi, the man who never had a problem finding a date for any occasion, came alone.
The second thing that was wrong was that the social butterfly that was David Rossi, the man who could sell ice to the Eskimos, was barely interacting with his team much less anyone else. The man that could schmooze with the best of them was sitting alone at the group's table. He was holding the same drink he'd had for the past two hours. He'd barely touched it.
"Okay, what's wrong with Rossi?" Morgan asked. He and the others were standing close to the dance floor.
"He looks like someone ran over his dog," Prentiss said as they watched the senior profiler.
"Rumor has it he's not dating," JJ said.
"What?" Morgan asked, surprised. "The man could have a different date every night of the week if he wanted."
"Maybe so but apparently, he's not taking advantage of that fact," JJ said with a shrug.
"Hotch, has he said anything to you?" Emily asked.
"No," the man said, shaking his head. "I do know he seems more... tired is not the right word."
"Worn out?" Reid supplied.
"That'll work," Hotch nodded. "We're all worn out to some degree."
"Yeah, but he usually handles it better," Morgan said. They watched as the man they were discussing stood up, picked up his glass and walked out onto the terrace.
"Yeah, well, we'll have to wait until he's ready to talk," Emily said. "You know how much he hates people meddling in his private life.
The one person not participating in the conversation watched as the man left the room. Without the others noticing, she followed him outside. She stood watching him leaning against the railing for a few minutes before she approached him.
"Not enjoying the shindig?" Penelope asked as she walked up to him.
"They tend to lose their allure after a while," Dave said, not looking at her.
"Is something wrong?" she asked.
"What makes you ask that?" He turned to face her.
She gave him a small smile. "When the social butterfly of the BAU isn't socializing, it's either a sign of the apocalypse or or something's wrong," she said.
"I got a letter from a friend of mine last month, one I grew up with," he said. He turned back away.
"Bad news?"
"Depends on your definition of bad," he said. "He and his wife are celebrating their thirtieth wedding anniversary this month and they want me to come to the party."
"Sounds like fun," she said.
"I've been married and divorced three times," he said. "Alan's managed to make his only marriage last thirty years. What am I doing wrong?"
"I'm not the one to ask," she said. "Most of my relationships end up crumbled on the ground."
He turned around again and leaned on the railing. "You and Morgan ever going to give it a try?" he asked with a small smile.
"You wanna know a secret?"
"Sure."
"We did try a few years ago," she said. "It didn't take but a couple of months to discover we make better friends than lovers."
"That bad?" he asked.
"Don't get me wrong, certain parts were incredible," she twinkled, "but if that's all you have, you're not going to last. We're at a good place now and we're better, stronger friends than ever."
"I also thought you and Kevin would make a go of it," he said.
"The flame died," she sighed. "He wanted to leave the FBI, move somewhere away from here. He wanted a 'normal' life." She made air quotes. "Can you see me doing normal?"
"For the right guy, yeah." He chuckled. "Your version of 'normal' at least."
"Thanks, I think," she said, chuckling herself.
"I know what part of my problem is," he said then fell silent.
"Care to share your insights, Oh Wise One?" she asked.
"It's partly what you said about the flame dying," he said. "I think we were so wrapped up in the actual flame and didn't give a thought about what would happen the morning after. Add to that, none of the three were willing to deal with someone who does what we do for a living."
"That's the reason Hotch's marriage broke up, isn't it?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "They still loved each other but, in the end it just wasn't enough."
"Kevin was sort of the same way," she said. "Even though he worked at Quantico, he didn't deal with what we did and couldn't understand a lot of why I did what I did."
"I would love to find someone who could understand all of... our world, I guess," he said. "Someone I wouldn't have to explain anything to, that would stick around for more than the sex and the money."
"So would I." She turned to look across the garden. "Does someone like that even exist?"
"I'm not sure," he admitted.
The music from a blues song the band started playing reached their ears. They listened as the singer began.
'I want a Sunday Kind of Love.
A love to last, past Saturday night.
I'd like to know that it's more than love at first sight.
I need a Sunday Kind of Love.
Oh yeah yeah.'
"I love this song," she smiled. "I haven't heard it in ages."
"You like the blues?" he asked.
"Oh,yeah," she said, "and Etta James is one of my favorites."
'I need a, a love that's on the square.
Can't seem to find that somebody, someone to care.
I'm on a lonely road that leads me nowhere.
I need a Sunday kind of love.'
"Penelope Garcia, would you like to dance?" he asked.
"David Rossi, I would love to," she answered. He took her in his arms and they began to sway with the music.
'I do my Sunday dreaming, oh yeah all my Sunday scheming.
Every minute, every hour, every day
Oh I'm hoping to discover that certain kind of lover
Who will show me the way.'
She noticed the expression on his face. "Is something wrong?" she asked.
"No," he said. "Why?"
"You have the strangest look on your face," she said.
"Just thinking," he assured her.
"Care to share with the class?"
"Give me a minute."
'My arms need someone to enfold
Keeping me warm when Monday's and Tuesday's grow cold.
Love for all my life to have and to hold.
Oh I want a Sunday kind of love.'
"Kitten, I want to ask you something," he said, "and it may seem a little out of the blue but hear me out."
"All right," she said slowly.
"From our previous conversation, it would seem that you and I are looking for the same thing," he said.
"Yes, it does," she agreed.
"Would you be adverse to the idea of seeing if we couldn't find the things we're looking for in each other?"
She looked at him for a moment before answering. "I wouldn't be adverse to that idea at all," she said with a smile that went all the way to her eyes.
'I don't want a Monday, or a Tuesday, Wednesday or a Thursday,
Friday or Saturday, I don't want nothing, baby,
I want a Sunday kind of love.'
"I'm going to kiss you now," he said.
"That's the second best idea you've had tonight," she said right before his lips met hers.
When the kiss was over, they continued dancing, neither one noticing that the music had stopped.
Fin