Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is owned by CBS. I own nothing but my imagination.
The Drunken Truth-Chapter 1
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Dave groaned as he heard his cell phone ring on the nightstand table. He recognized the ringtone as that of his unit chief's and groaned again. Of all of the times for the goddamn phone to ring. He blindly reached out an arm to grab it when the woman sharing his bed stopped him.
"Let it ring honey, what could be more important than this?" She asked as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt.
"Sharon baby, I have to answer it, it's my boss," Dave said regretfully.
"Fine then, have it your way!" Sharon shot back with a pout on her lips. She jumped off of the king sized bed and flounced into his bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Picking up the phone, Dave growled, "I swear to Christ Hotch, fucking World War Three had better be starting for you to be calling right now!"
"Dave?" He heard Hotch yell, and he pulled the phone away from his ear. "Dave, are you there?"
"Yeah I'm here, asshole. Where the hell are you?" There was a loud din in the background and while Dave could hear his loud friend, the background noise was making it difficult to understand him.
"I'm at the Ivory Bar, man, and I can't drive," Hotch yelled.
Dave heard the slurring in his friend's speech and moaned. The one night Sharon was in town and Hotch had to get drunk! What the fuck was he supposed to do? God knows the man had picked his inebriated ass up many times, but this was Sharon for Christ's sake; he was pretty much guaranteed to see some action with her tonight.
"Can't you get a cab Hotch? Fuck, I'll even pay for it, just send me the bill." He could hear the woman filling up the Jacuzzi in his bathroom and he very much wanted to be a part of whatever she had planned.
On the other end of the phone, Hotch shook his head, forgetting the older man couldn't see him. "Can't, there's a concert or something going on nearby and the cabs are all going there. Come pick me up man," he directed.
'Fuck!' Rossi thought, and then another thought popped into his head, 'I'll have one of the kids do it…but which one?' He mentally ran down the members of the team and then came across one who owed him a favor. "Hang tight Hotch, someone will be there in less than an hour."
"Okay," Hotch yelled, taking another gulp of his drink, "I'm here with some of my old law school classmates. Look for us in the back corner."
"Back corner, got it." Dave repeated and then ended the call. Once the call was disconnected, he pressed the number three in his speed dial and waited for his team member to answer.
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Emily was curled up on the couch in her apartment, getting caught up with some of her DVR'd television shows. She had just begun watching an episode of Glee when her cell phone rang. Seeing Dave's name on the Caller ID, she quickly answered it. "What's up Dave? Tell me we don't have a case."
"We don't," he told her. "What are you doing tonight Emily?"
"Well, since its eleven o'clock on a Saturday night, I'm in my pajamas watching TV and eating ice cream. Why?"
"How would you like to do me a favor? Say as repayment for my partnering with Reid on this last case?" Their last case had been in Kansas, and while on their way to question a suspect, Emily and Reid had been driving through a storm and had seen a tornado off in the distance. You would have thought Reid had just met Superman, Spiderman and Mickey Mouse all at the same time, he was so excited. When they got back to the police station, he regaled everyone with the story and he wouldn't shut up about it, especially with her since she'd been in the car with him. It got to the point where Emily had begged Dave to switch partners with her, as the older man was the only member of the team who could seem to shut Reid up.
"What kind of favor?" She asked suspiciously.
"The kind where you go and pick up a drunken Hotch from a bar and see him home safely," Dave told her. He heard Sharon get into the Jacuzzi and he tried to hurry the call up. "Come on Prentiss, it won't be so bad."
"Dave, I'm in my PJ's and I've already washed my face. I look like shit!"
"Hotch won't mind, and neither will his law school buddies."
Emily groaned, that's just what she needed tonight, to have to wade into a sea of attorneys. "Dave-" She began, but Rossi cut her off.
"Look Prentiss, I have a friend in town from Paris and I get to see her once or twice a year. Right now that lovely lady is sitting alone in my Jacuzzi and I would like to join her and salvage what's left of my weekend. If you do this for me, I will owe you BIG time. Like, if you ever need a kidney, I donate, no questions asked." Dave was practically begging by this point.
On her end of the phone, Emily put her head in her hand. The absolute last thing she needed was the image of David Rossi getting it on with some Parisian woman who was probably half his age. "Fine," she said with a sigh, "But you'll owe me more than a kidney for doing this."
Dave felt a grin break across his face as he gave her the pickup information. Once he was done, he quickly thanked her, disconnected the call and practically ran to the master bathroom.
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Twenty minutes later, Emily pulled up in front of the Ivory Bar. She couldn't find any parking nearby, so she parked in front of a fire hydrant and threw her FBI placard on the dashboard. She would only be gone for ten minutes, so she hoped a blaze wouldn't start while she was inside the establishment.
Once inside, she let her eyes adjust to the dim atmosphere and then scouted out the bar area. Sure enough, in the back corner was a group of guys that definitely looked lawyerly. Expensive suits, slicked back hair and, most importantly, many empty beer bottles and drink glasses were scattered around them.
Sighing once again, Emily headed for the back corner of the bar. Once there, she was shocked to see her boss drunk as a skunk.
"Em'ly!" He slurred as he saw her. "What're you doing here?" Emily could tell by his appearance that he'd been having a good time. His sport coat was barely hanging onto the back of a chair, his tie stuffed into the pocket of it, and the top two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned. That, paired with his mussed hair, told her that he'd had a good time with his law school buddies; buddies who appeared to be just as drunk as he was.
"Who's this, Aaron?" One of his friends asked, leering at Emily.
"That's Pretnis-Presstin-Pre…you know what? Her name is Emily," Hotch told him, unable to pronounce her last name. Even in his drunken state, Hotch didn't appreciate the way his friend was sizing up his agent.
"She should join us," the friend said, moving closer to Emily. "I'll bet she could show us a good time."
As drunk as he was, Hotch wasn't going to let his friend harass Emily. Stepping in front of him, Hotch snarled, "Back off Chad, she's mine!"
A/N 2: This is going to be a two-parter. Look for the second half in the next day or so.
