Aaron Hotchner stood in the Great Hall of the National Building Museum, taking in the majestic features of the room. Not one to be mesmerized by gala affairs, he had to admit that the place was amazing.

When Dave Rossi had asked him to attend The Sons of Italy National Gala with him, he nearly balked. There had to some attractive woman who'd be willing to slip on a gown and go as Dave's date. But Dave shook him off, he was being honored with a Lifetime Achievement Award and since, he said, Hotch was part of that achievement, he could think of no one better to share the evening with him. When he put it that way, the invitation became an honor.

So there he sat, in his brand new tuxedo, because, as Dave said, every man needs to own a classic tuxedo, sipping a glass of 15 year old Glenfiddich and trying not to stare at the woman seated next to him.

In the time he'd been sitting there, he'd found out quite a few facts about the stunning brunette to his right. Her name was Natalie DiDomenico. She was there with her friend, Laura Gilbert to watch as her father, Franco DiDomenico, was presented with a Lifetime Achievement Award. Natalie was a divorced, single mom and, as if the similarities in their life weren't enough, she was an attorney as well.

All of these facts struck Rossi as quite funny and more than once during their dinner, he tried to talk Hotch into "getting to know" Natalie better. Hotch wasn't sure if Dave was acting on his behalf or if his attraction to Natalie's friend Laura was behind his prompting.

"Aaron," Laura said, standing up, "I'm heading up to get another round of drinks, can I get you a refill?"

He shook his head, "I'm good, thanks."

"I'll be back," she winked, leaving him alone with Natalie.

"Looks like they ditched us," Natalie laughed, her brown eyes sparkling.

"It could be worse," he smiled; it was the first thing he could think of to say and of course, he had nothing to follow it up with. He said a silent prayer that she didn't call him on it.

"It could?" she asked, with a smart smile, calling him on it and throwing him into a mild panic.

He laughed, "And I really have no good line ready. It amazes me that I can go face to face with a murderers and rapists and not even flinch, but sit me next to a beautiful woman and I have nothing to say."

Natalie laughed with him, "Oh God, you sound like me."

He raised a brow, "Your tongue trips you up around beautiful women, too?"

She laughed harder, "Exactly."

"Just another thing we have in common."

"Speaking of which, before we were so rudely interrupted by the awards ceremony, you were going to show me a picture of your son."

"I was." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, flipping it open, he instantly found a picture of Jack. He slipped it out and handed it to her. "That's Jack."

Natalie smiled, "He has his daddy's eyes and smile." She looked up at him, "Your ex wife is blond?"

Hotch nodded as she handed the picture back. "Your turn."

Natalie opened her clutch purse and pulled out a picture, "This is my Ashelee."

Hotch looked down to find that Ashelee was a bright, smiling brunette. "She's 16?"

"Just got her license."

"Good luck," he laughed, handing the picture back, "She's a beautiful girl, just like her mom."

Natalie smiled at him, a faint blush coloring her cheeks, "Thank you."

"I have returned with fresh drinks!" Laura announced, as she returned to the table. "Did I interrupt something?"

"We were just sharing kid pictures," Natalie explained, looking around the room, "Have you seen my father anywhere?"

"He's over there with the other award winners having their pictures taken," Laura replied. "I ran into Dave as he was waiting to be photographed. He wanted to know if we all wanted to go somewhere for a drink when this was over."

"I just need to tell Pop I'm going," Natalie shrugged, "Ashe's staying at her friend's house until Sunday night."

"Aaron?" Laura asked. "Will you join us?"

"Sure," he replied, surprised at the ease with which he responded.

XXXXX

Looking back at it, Hotch wasn't sure how they ended up at the small bar in Georgetown. Someone brought it up, although he couldn't remember who. It didn't much matter, because the beer was cold, the juke box had decent music, and company was everything he could ask for and more.

"Okay," Laura laughed, picking up the empty pitcher, "whose turn is it to buy?"

"I've got this one," Natalie said, reaching for her purse.

"I've got it," Hotch said, placing his hand on hers and holding it back.

Rossi shook his head and held up the pitcher. The bartender walked down, took the pitcher and refilled it. Setting it down, she walked away with a wink. "I threw him a credit card when we got here."

"Nice," Hotch laughed, "Guess we're drinking on you for the rest of the night."

"Works for me," Natalie agreed, then, with a devilish grin, "We should do a shot."

"A shot?" Laura piped up, "What kind?"

"You pick."

"Don't leave it up to me," she said, looking at Rossi, "Dave, you're buying, you pick."

"Oh no, too much responsibility," Rossi laughed, "Hotch, this one's on you."

"Me? Dave, the last time I did a shot…" he trailed off, as the bartender approached.

"Did I hear someone ask for shots?"

"We'd like a round of…." He began, then shrugged, "What do you recommend?"

"Hm…" the bartender smiled, "Let's see….do you like sweet shots or creamy shots?"

"Neither," Natalie winced, "How about just a shot?"

"And what would you like a shot of, Beautiful?" the bartender asked.

"Jaeger?"

"We're going down," Laura teased.

"What would you rather have?" Natalie returned.

"What about Southern Comfort?"

"Fine," she waved her hand in dismissal, "Southern Comfort it is."

XXXXX

David Rossi only did two shots of Southern Comfort. It really was not his drink of choice and besides, someone had to remain semi-sober. Laura, it seemed, was holding her own, but she too had sat back and watched a round or two. Not so for Hotch and Natalie.

He'd known Hotch for many years and had seen him go through many changes, from young, idealistic agent who was always ready for either a case or a drink to the sedate, morose, always serious Unit Chief whose divorce was nearly a year old.

Rossi knew he was one of the rare few who saw the unguarded Aaron Hotchner. Most people swore the man had forgotten how to smile and have a good time. Rossi knew that wasn't true and on some level, wished he'd had a video camera with him tonight.

Tonight, he saw a healthy glimpse of young Aaron Hotchner. The guy who could laugh, tell a joke, and really hold his liquor. It was blatantly obvious that Hotch was taken by the dark haired lawyer in the sexy black silk dress and she seemed to be just as interested in him.

They were off in their own little world, laughing, talking and sharing shots. Whenever Rossi pulled his eyes away from the gorgeous honey blond Laura to look at his old friend, he found himself smiling.

Rossi had slipped a couple of dollars in the juke box and invited Laura to help him pick out a few tunes. They selected a lot of classic rock songs; with Rossi slipping in a Chicago tune or two and Laura giggling as she played Kid Rock's "Bawitdaba". She said that despite Natalie's upper class upbringing, she had a soft spot for the Detroit singer and that when the song began, she would sing along – word for word.

Rossi wasn't sure why, be he almost found himself looking forward to this. Of course, when the song finally did come on, he was engaged in a deep conversation with Laura about their mutual lack of a significant other.

Hearing Natalie's voice, Laura looked up with a grin and said, "Told you so!"

As Rossi opened his mouth to reply, he was surprised to hear not only Natalie's alto voice, but Hotch's baritone keeping perfect cadence with Kid Rock, "All the crack heads, the critics, the cynics, and all my heroes in the Methadone Clinic. All you bastards at the IRS, for the crooked cops and the cluttered desks. For the shots of jack and the caps of meth, half pints of love and the fifths of stress. For the hookers all tricking out in Hollywood and for my hoods of the world misunderstood. I said it's all good and it's all in fun. Now get in the pit and try to love someone."

They both broke in to a blistering air guitar solo, causing Rossi and Laura to dissolve into laughter. Oh yeah, Rossi thought, he's damn lucky I don't have a camera.

When the song finished, they stood laughing at each other as Rossi and Laura clapped.

Natalie tried to take a bow and nearly lost her balance. "Oh shit…"

"You," Hotch began, steadying her, "Have had too much to drink."

"So," she mimicked his tone, "Have you."

"I won't deny that. Do you know how long it's been since I've had a night like this?"

"Too long?"

"Too long," he agreed, leaning against the wall. "I gotta tell you…you're amazing."

"Now I know you're drunk."

"No…not that drunk," he protested, as she leaned against him. "I think you're amazing."

"So you've said."

"It's true," he insisted, "You're beautiful, smart…"

"Italian…" she giggled, remembering how Rossi kept toasting to "being Italian".

"And Italian…which is not a similarity we share."

"Wow…you're good…" she giggled, placing her hands on his chest, "I couldn't say that word right now if I had to. I'm not sure my mouth is still working properly."

Taking this for his queue, Hotch leaned down and kissed her, pulling back a moment later he said, "Seems like it's working just fine."

"Do you always kiss women you've just met?" she teased, leaning in for another kiss.

"We haven't just met," he countered, kissing her again. "We've known each other for hours."

Natalie laughed, "I really like you. You know that?"

"Yeah? Well, I really like you too," he replied, slipping his arms around her. "A lot."

"Hm…" she coyly said, playing with his lapels. "I definitely noticed the physical attraction…"

"There's a definite physical attraction," he agreed, his hands traveling her sides. "But it's more than that."

"And you're saying that to get into my pants," she laughed.

Hotch laughed with her, "No, I am not. I'm really not like that."

"Uh huh," she went on.

He tried to be serious, but the twinkle in her eye and sexy way she looked at him kept the smile firmly planted on his lips. "I," he began, hoping he sounded sincere, instead of drunk, "would really like to take you out to dinner. What about tomorrow night?"

She thought for a moment, "I'd like that too," she agreed, leaning forward and kissing him, "But do me a favor? Don't let that stop you from trying to get into my pants tonight?" She kissed him again, "See, I'm not really like this either."

"Another similarity?"

"There you go with that word again."

"Sorry, I'll stop," he pretended to be contrite, and then with a smile, "Now, where were we?"

"I believe," she said, leaning in and capturing his lips with a kiss, "We were right there."