Italian Wedding Soup

Pairing: Rossi/Garcia

Summary: "Promise me we won't be having that at our wedding."

Disclaimer: I don't own them. I'm just playing with them.

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"Is it over yet?"

David Rossi's deep baritone carried across the room and into the bathroom where Penelope was changing out of her dressy clothes and into a pair of comfy pajamas. She glanced into the mirror to see him approach the room to casually lean against the doorjamb. His red bow tie hung limply around his neck even though he had shed his tuxedo jacket and loosened the buttons at his throat and wrists.

"Is what over?" she asked as she brushed her hair while still watching him.

He heaved a sigh. "The month from hell."

She laughed. "The what?"

"July," he replied. "The month from hell."

She watched as he began unbuttoning his shirt. He slid the red suspenders from his shoulders and tugged the shirttails from his trousers.

"Why is July the month from hell?" she asked carefully. She washed the remnants of her makeup from her face.

"It's the first hot month of the year and every woman in the country wants to get married," he supplied. She watched him in the mirror hoping he would expand on that declaration. He caught her gaze in the mirror. "It sucks wearing this monkey suit."

She grinned at him. "But you're such a cute monkey."

He half grinned back at her. "You're not so bad yourself," he told her before continuing. "And why do they insist on serving soup at the reception? It's already freaking hot and they serve soup."

"You didn't like the soup? It was Italian Wedding soup."

He grunted. "Yes and everyone has to have it at their weddings. I hate that crap," he grumbled. He turned and started to walk back into the bedroom. "Promise me we won't be having that at our wedding."

She stopped moving, stopped breathing and for a moment she thought her heart stopped too. "We're getting married?" she asked aloud.

"What?" he asked from the other room. She could hear him moving around probably getting undressed. Shakily she rose to her feet and moved to the door.

"David?" she asked quietly. She grabbed the doorjamb and held on tightly.

He paused in the middle of hanging up his trousers and glanced over his shoulder at her. "Are you okay," he frowned in concern.

"We're getting married?" she whispered. His frown deepened. "You said – 'promise me we won't be having that at our wedding'. We're getting married?"

He straightened his trousers on the hanger and placed it in the closet. Now wearing just a t-shirt and underwear he crossed the room to her. He reached a hand up and caressed her cheek.

"I was hoping that you would make an honest man of me someday," he replied softly.

She gave him a slight smile. "Were you going to wait for me to ask you?"

He shrugged. "Honestly, I hadn't given it a lot of thought."

"Oh," she replied with a hint of disappointment.

He grinned widely at her as his hands dropped to her hips pulling her closer. "I kind of thought with all these weddings we've been attending that you would bring the subject up. My sisters' kept dropping hints all day."

She snorted. "Have they? It felt more like a-bombs to me. It seemed like every time I was alone one of them would come up and ask me what our plans were; I had no idea what they were talking about until your Mother asked me if we were going to start having babies."

Dave swallowed. "She didn't."

"She did," Pen nodded.

"I'm sorry," he whispered before brushing a kiss across her lips.

"It's ok," she replied raising her fingers to his mouth and softly tracing across his skin. "I guess this means they like me."

He loosed a bark of laughter. "Like you? My family adores you. In fact I think they like you better than they like me. Didn't you notice that you got invited to Sophia's and I was an after thought?"

"I thought she did that because it was going to be a girl's only event," Pen smiled.

Dave shook his head. "No it was because she likes you better."

"Hmm."

"What?"

"I like you better," she said playfully.

"Do you?" he asked as he began backing up pulling her with him a small smile playing about his lips. "How much do you like me?"

She pretended to think about it. "I like you so much that I would elope with you so you didn't have to eat Italian Wedding soup."

He stopped moving. The smile faded from his face. "Really?"

She nodded solemnly.

"My family would kill us," he said softly. "The team would kill us."

"I don't care," Pen stated firmly. "I want to marry you."

"I want to marry you too," he replied. "How long do you think it would take to get a license?"

She grinned. "I could get us one before the end of day tomorrow."

"I know a priest," he supplied. "We don't have any rings."

"I'm sure there's a jewelry shop somewhere in this town," she told him.

A smile curved the corner of his mouth. "What do you say beautiful? Will you marry me?"

She slid her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to hers. "Yes," she whispered as their lips met.