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Thumbing the old picture in his hand, David Rossi smiled fondly at the cap-and-gowned young woman he stood holding, smiling, frozen in time on one of the proudest days of his old friend's life: The day Thomas Young saw his daughter graduate college, two years ahead of schedule. Remembering his friend, and seeing his youth captured on the other side of his daughter, made him sad. Thomas had been in the core with him, married right before they were shipped off and had unknowingly created a life right before his deployment. Though Vivienne had been a complete surprise, David remembered well the excitement and exuberance his dear old friend had had the day he came running into the barrack tents waving a letter from home like a mad man, "DAVEY! I'M GOING TO BE A PAPA! Can you believe it?! ME?! A Dad! Look, Juney sent this…" and he had shoved the letter at a laughing David, forcing him to re-read the letter aloud. Young though they were, they celebrated together that night with cheap whiskey.
"Davey, I'm glad you're my friend, buddy, I'm happy to have someone to share this with." Tom slurred, forcibly clinking his glass on David's.
"Me too, bud. Congratulations, June is going to be a wonderful mother." Dave chuckled, secretly terrified for his seventeen year old friend. He couldn't imagine if he was at war, about to become a father, before he was even an adult.
"You're my best friend, Davey. If anything happens…"
"Nothing is going to happen to you, you're going to finish this deployment and we'll be home in time to watch your son grow up." David put a reassuring hand on his friends shoulder.
"And you'll help me teach him to play baseball?"
"Yea, somebody's got to, your pitch is about as bad as your aim.." Drunkenly, they laughed together.
It was a memory from over three decades ago, and still he could envision it as if he were in those trenches again…
"Davey! Think fast!"
Turning around too slowly, David caught a fly ball in his stomach, and doubled over as he felt the wind knock out of him. Thanking the gods it hadn't landed lower as he kneeled on the grass, all the pain in the world was worth her smile, a giggling 7 year old running the bases, and yelling that she had scored.
"Damn but that girl can throw, help me up, would you?" Rossi shook his head at Tom, who couldn't stop laughing.
David shook his head as if mimicking the memory and took a long pull from his cigar. If one thing had the ability to render him helpless, it was these painful memories. He pulled a finely embossed letter from it's place on his desk, a wedding invitation from Vivienne, with a hand-written note to call her, she wanted him to give her away, since Tom was gone. Sighing, he reluctantly picked up the telephone and dialed the number scrawled out.
As an afterthought, he drowned his Scotch as it began to ring, any help he could get right now would be well worth it. On his death bed, Thomas had asked David to take care of his family, and he had – he had made sure June was taken care of up until her untimely death and he had also made sure that a healthy trust had been set up for Vivienne, but he couldn't do this.
"Hello?"
David closed his eyes tight at the sound of her voice.
"Vivvy."
"Dave! I'm so glad you called!" Vivenne gushed breathless on the other line. "I'm so sorry to spring this on you, I… I called your assistant – editor – whatever she is… She wouldn't give me your cell phone number."
"That's what I pay her for…" Though why didn't you leave a message? He thought desperately. "Viv let's meet. We should talk about this…"
"There's nothing to talk about, Dave, I want you to be here, it's my wedding, Dave, I need you to be here." Short and to the point, and right to the gut, that had always been her style.
"Vivienne.."
"David, don't. I won't take no for an answer. I need you to come up to Jersey this weekend, we're having the rehearsal dinner and ceremony rehearsal. I need you."
"Damnit, Viv." He cursed his inability to deny her. Since the moment he'd met her 29 years ago, he'd been in love.
"Please." And here it was, the famous pouty-voice.
"Send me an address." He growled, despising the smile he felt on his face now.
No squeal of excitement or laughter at getting her way was heard as could be expected from any other woman. She didn't gloat. "You don't know how much this means to me, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU. Write down my email…"
"Yea, yea." David nodded in time, reaching for a pencil. "Where's this madhouse, anyways?"
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He needed a strong drink, 3p.m. be damned, it was five o'clock somewhere. Anxiety was upon him something fierce when he landed in New Jersey three days later, a perfect spring weather day mocking his over-dressed status in an imported Italian suit.
The truth was…. Well he wasn't about to think about the truth. It was too embarrassing. So much so in fact, he hadn't even called his best friend, Aaron Hotchner, to talk to him of what he was leaving town to do. He had picked up the phone several times and then slammed it down. This just wasn't something he knew how to talk about. How could he talk about the last time he saw Vivienne? Her father's funeral, for Chrissake. He closed his eyes against the memory, but it flooded through his mind's eye defiantly while he waited at the luggage carousel for his bag at the airport.
"Vivvy…" David looked in horror at the vibrant young woman in front of him, now diminished from pain and puffy, red eyes from a night of crying. "Vivvy, we have to go, we can't stay here." He put his arms around her shoulders and lifted her from the table where Tom lay lifeless, in the morgue. June had called him in tears, desperate for help with the hysterically distraught Vivienne. "I can't get her to leave the hospital, Dave, please talk to her, she's always listened to you."
"Come on, baby girl. We're going home." He sighed heavily when she weakly succumbed to her exhaustion and buried her face in his chest, allowing him to lead her out to the parking lot. Her silence and leaning on him were the only outward indications of her grief, he hadn't seen her cry, thank god, he didn't think he could handle it. Her sadness alone was almost too much for him to bear, how could he give her the one thing she wanted right now? He would do anything for her and yet he couldn't bring Tom back.
Picking her up and placing her in his SUV, his heart had nearly stopped when she finally looked at him, those hazel eyes piercing him like a thousand daggers. Sadness of the deepest kind looked out from behind them, and something else… fear, perhaps. Maybe he'd never know.
"Let's get a burger. I know you haven't left in a day, you need to eat, sweetheart." He pushed her wild brown hair behind an ear, caressed her cheek.
"I'm not hungry. I don't need food. I need…. I need you." Her voice was a whisper, as she leaned out of her seatbelt and fell forward into his embrace again. He stood for long minutes in the cold, holding her, expecting the crying at any moment, but it never came. After a while, wondering is his feet were frozen he pulled back and gently pushed her back into her seat, realizing she had fallen asleep. It must've been 24 hours since she had slept. Adjusting the seat to a reclining position he had a terrifying moment of blindness, leaning over her, while the Apple-scented shampoo she used washed over him. And it seemed to happen all at once, he had always loved her, but never more and never like this… The Jersey winter cold answered his devastation with a nasty gust of wind, shoving the open car door into him as he realized he could never, ever, in a million years let on that he had just fallen in love with her.
"Fuckin' Christ," He muttered a little too loudly, internally kicking himself, roughly grabbing at his bag as it came around. Can't be remembering that shit, you're about to walk her down the fucking isle, remember? 'Cause that's what she sees you as, HER FUCKING FATHER.
"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" David spun around to face the owner of that voice, sure it was still in his head.
"Vivvy.." He breathed, a look mixed of guilt and awe on his face. Had any one of his profiler team members been there to see it they'd have called his bluff in an instant. Dropping his bag and opening his arms to receive the familiar run-and-jump into his arms he spun her around off her feet once, determined to keep things as they always had been. He resisted the desire to kiss her cheek, but as he lowered her back down to earth she put one on his, so near his mouth his heart surely skipped a beat.
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