Disclaimer: I own nothing from this show.
A/N: For some strange reason, John Cooley hasn't left my head since 'Demonology' and this idea has been playing on my mind for quite a while.
I hope you like this story.
Thanks to 'Musiclover14' for always being there. And special thanks to KM, a very good writer from this fandom; because without her advice, this story would not be what it is.
When All Is Said And Done
"Find that guy that will pick up every piece of your shattered heart & put it back together; replacing it with a piece of his." Anonymous
It was late at night and David Rossi was in his living room trying to understand why a man like him, who in his youth was a player, a ladies man and why not say it-a complete ass-has ended up finding himself fall for a woman the way he has fallen for his co-worker Emily Prentiss.
Swallowing a sip of his Scotch and letting the liquid burn his throat, he thought of the events that lead him to his current estate.
The team has just gotten back from Pensacola, Florida. It had been one of their most difficult cases; anytime a case involved elderly people it went from difficult to personal.
It was also one of their longest: Two weeks. Two long weeks of investigation before they nabbed their UNSUB; who turned out to be Louis Cameron, a former doctor who lost his license a couple of years ago after misdiagnosing a young girl who died as a result. The girl's grandfather, who had very powerful business ties, made sure Doctor Cameron never practiced medicine again.
When they coupled Cameron's already existing grudge against elderly people with losing a brother in a car accident, it was not surprising that his murderous spree began. Fortunately now, the UNSUB was in a mental institution receiving the help he so desperately needed. But it was no excuse, and once Doctor Cameron was able, he would stand trial for the 22 patient deaths. Was it ironic or by accident that the UNSUB committed the crime in a state with the death penalty?
Rossi shook his head. Despite being a great profiler, he was convinced that he was never going to understand what made a person able to become a monster capable of the most heinous acts against their peers.
But even with that in mind, all the horrors that he has seen and known of, every single day of his life since he became a profiler, were not enough to make him forget the anger and why not say it, the jealousy that was settled in his heart at the time.
Of all the places to run into an old flame, who would have guessed that John Cooley, Emily's teenage love, was residing in Pensacola? It was by accident that he and Emily ran into each other. Once Emily explained that they were there on a case, Cooley asked that since he was going to be in the Quantico area for business, could he look her up. How dare he? David asked himself while taking another sip of his drink. John Cooley. Just thinking the name was enough to fill David with inexplicable anger.
A man who, since the first time Dave met him, never settled as a real man in his eyes; had the guts to ask his Emily to go out with him. However that wasn't the worse part; she actually accepted! That was just beyond his understanding.
What the hell was she thinking? John Cooley was still a scumbag, just as he'd revealed himself to her all those years ago. Even when Emily explained to him that it was nothing like a date; she just needed to talk to John and set things straight between them, Dave still did not fully understand it. Emily was his, granted, he hasn't told her that part yet, but the idea of losing her was too much for him, and he was not ready to be rejected by the only woman he had ever truly loved.
Clutching hard at the glass currently in his hand, he made an inner growl before taking it to his lips and emptying its content in one swallow.
He remembered overhearing a conversation between Emily and Morgan about the guy who sent her a bouquet of delicate pink Eglantines the week prior to the case in Florida. Eglantines. Probably the scum-er, Cooley didn't know that they represent love and the suffering that comes along with it, and ironically, they were like a symbol of what he and Emily shared in Italy. Granted maybe neither of them were "in love", but given the circumstances and their age, they probably thought they were.
Emily didn't seem thrilled about the flowers, but she didn't seem uncomfortable either. He remembered her face and the slight look of disappointment in her eyes when she turned to glance at the bouquet. Or…was it hope and he misread the whole situation? He was not sure anymore.
That same night, when he asked Emily about the bouquet and she told him who the sender was, he could not believe it. All he could do was to think back to the day he and the team rescued Cooley from being murdered by Father Silvano and the kiss Cooley gave Emily before getting into the ambulance. The thought of Cooley's arrogance still made Dave's blood boil.
He looked at his empty glass and decided he needed a refill.
He made his way back to the countertop in his kitchen where the half empty bottle of Scotch laid and refilled his glass before making his way back to the living room.
Hell! What was he expecting? He asked himself while sinking on to the sofa. Well definitely not about Emily having dinner with John Cooley, that was for sure. But, Emily Prentiss deserved to be happy and to have a man-albeit a reliable man-by her side. He couldn't be obtuse enough to think that she was going to be waiting for him-the legendary David Rossi, a man who after months of being together, still hadn't found the nerve to tell her how much she meant to him.
And how was he going to talk about his feelings when he had just discovered them and were still a mystery to him? Granted, he knew he loved her, but he was clueless as to how he should act about it considering it was the very first time that he felt that way. For the first time in his adult life, Dave was ready to give it all away without expecting anything in return.
Even if his feelings were new and still a mystery, when Emily told him that she was actually going out with Cooley that night, Dave felt a pang in the pit of his stomach. That man-it killed Dave to think of him as a man-was nothing near what his Emily deserved; she deserved someone smart, sophisticated, intelligent, brave, strong… a real man, and he was not afraid of saying it: someone just like him.
Dave wanted so desperately to tell her that humans are the only species that tend to make the same mistake twice and that if Cooley let her down once he was going to do it again. Then he remembered that what they had was not a stable romantic relationship-hell, it was barely a stable working relationship-so he just held his tongue.
"God!" he rubbed his face with his right hand while holding his glass firmly with the other.
He turned his face to look at the clock hanging on the wall of his living room. It was quarter past eleven. Suddenly he felt the urge to call Emily. Grabbing his cell, he dialed her number, but after the second ring, the question raised in his mind: What the hell was he going to tell her? After all, she was honest about her whereabouts that night; there was no reason for him to be checking on her as if she was a little girl.
He hit end, shook his head and sighed. Dave wasn't sure he really wanted to know what was happening or even discuss the dinner not a 'date'.
Frustrated with himself and the situation, he was about to turn off the lights and head up to his room, when a soft knock on his door brought him back from his thoughts.
Dave moved quickly from the living room and looked through the peephole. Emily! Was it paradox or luck that the woman who had been invading his thoughts and his heart for the last couple of months and particularly this night was now at his door? Dave figured he could work it out later, as he unlocked the door.
As the door swung open, he was caught up by the sight in front of him. She looked absolutely beautiful and he felt a growing desire to kiss her, but he knew better than that. Despite her looks, he realized that Emily had the very same stare she had when she was looking at the bouquet placed on her desk, but now he was sure that it was not hope, but disappointment written all over her face, both then and now.
"Emily. What brings you here?" he asked her while trying not to seem too affected but failing miserable.
She fixed her stare at the floor and gave him a tight smile. Seconds passed before she met his gaze. "Do you mind if I come in?" she asked him in a soft voice. Dave knew that tone. Emily's heart was broken, but she was trying to be strong.
Without a word, he motioned her in and closed the door. Emily went straight to the living room. She held his glass with her right hand and turned to look at him "Do you think you want to share some of your expensive Scotch with me Rossi?"
They looked intently into each others eyes before he asked "Your date went that well, huh?"
She gave him a sardonic smile. "I told you Rossi, it was not a date. I just needed to talk to him"
Never one to escalate a potentially explosive situation, Dave held both his hands up in defeat and went to the kitchen to bring the bottle of Scotch and another glass.
When she looked at the bottle in his hand she turned to look at him "Did you try to empty the bottle all by yourself?" Her tone held a hint of amusement.
"I need to learn to mind my business, as should you Agent Prentiss." Dave tone came out sharper than he intended. Or did he? Dave was usually pretty good at compartmentalizing his feelings, but when that feeling was sitting two feet away, he was unable to think, much less rationalize. It was moments like this that reminded him that as good a profiler as he was, David Rossi was still just a man.
"Or were you trying to keep something other than your mind busy?"
"Very funny," he replied and tried to smile, but was unable. She was being sarcastic which meant that she was procrastinating about talking to him. Bringing the glass to his lips, he shot her a meaningful look. "So, are you going to tell me what brought you to my place? Or are we going to discuss my taste in liquor and nighttime extracurricular activities?" he asked and downed his shot.
"Since when did I need a reason to come to your place Rossi?" she asked before taking a sip of her Scotch. It was smooth and ran down her throat like liquid velvet. She tried to relax and appear calm and collect, but was failing. "You made it clear on several occasions that your door was always open should I ever need to talk."
"I am not complaining about it Emily, it is just that I was not expecting you. I presumed that… well…" his words trailed off. How could he tell her that his imagination pictured her cuddled with scum-er, Cooley in a hotel room bed?
"You thought what? That I was going to spend the night with John?" she asked him lifting her brows.
"No!" he answered quickly. Damn, he had just been profiled by Emily Prentiss! He stood up and began pacing the floor.
"Then what?" she pressed a bit further. She knew she hit a nerve, but she needed something solid that told her that he felt the same way she has been feeling about him.
"I just…I do not know." David stopped pacing. He was not used to such scrutiny, especially from a woman, who happened to not only be an exceptional profiler, but his co-worker. The living room was filled with silence as they both turned to look at the carpet after his last statement.
Emily drained her glass and placed it on the coffee table. "You know what? Maybe this is a mistake." She stood up and smoothed her slacks. "Coming here I mean, tonight. Maybe it's best if I go now and we talk later." She hiked her purse onto her shoulder and made her way to the door.
Before she could open the door she felt his firm hand grasping at her forearm. Surprised, she looked up at him and was taken aback by the fierce look in his eyes. Actually it wasn't the fierceness that surprised her, but the sadness that lurked behind.
"Do you love him?" he asked, his tone was serious.
She frowned at his words. "What?"
"You heard me. Cooley. Do you love him?"
"No!" she freed herself from his grip but remained close to him "Of course not. What makes you think that?" her tone was one of shock and surprise.
"Then why did you accept his invitation and why did you come to my house with that look of disappointment in your face?" His eyes were pleading but his question warned her not to lie to him.
"Because I wanted…" She shook her head. "Or I should say, I needed to be sure."
"Sure of what?"
"Sure about my feelings" she replied simply.
"But you just told me that you don't love him!" Dave felt himself getting frustrated.
"And I don't," she answered, raising her voice to match his frustration. "What in the hell possessed you Rossi? What makes you think that I have feelings for John?" she asked him. She shook her head and tried to make sense of the situation. "The truth is…" She was silent for a couple of seconds as she weighed her words carefully. "I don't think I ever did," she finished on a whisper.
"Did you tell him that?" David asked. His tone was calm, but hope filled his face.
"I did" she nodded.
"And how did he take it" he asked taking a step forward.
"I guess he always knew" she stated simply, closing her eyes as she felt his body press against her.
"And what about the disappointment?"
"There is no such thing like that Rossi. Maybe it was, for some time, a very long time ago, but it had nothing to do with him, but entirely with me," she answered locking his gaze with hers.
"And what if he comes back"?
"He won't. He is just grateful to me, to us," she corrected, "for saving him, but he is not pursuing anything further," she answered leaning her head to rest on David's shoulder.
"How can you be so sure?" He leaned to press his lips on her hair.
"Because, I told him that I am in a relationship with a wonderful man," she answered moving her head slightly in an attempt to have better access pressing a small kiss to his neck.
When had their discussion turned into such an intimate moment, they would never know. But they were both grateful that it had finally happened.
"You did?" he asked her leaning into her and inhaling her unique scent.
"Uh-huh," she replied and gave him a smile that always tied him into knots.
"Is it safe to say that I am that man?" he asked her, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from her lips.
"I do not know Rossi, are you?" she was teasing him now and he was enjoying it.
"I do not know if I'm a wonderful man Emily," he admitted with reluctance, while wrapping his hands gently around Emily's waist. "All I know is that I'm a pretty damn lucky to have such an amazing woman by my side." He told her, leaning his head slightly and placing his forehead against hers before the words finally escaped his mouth. "I love you Emily Prentiss."
Her eyes lit up at his words "I love you too David Rossi," she answered, catching his lips halfway in a passionate yet tender kiss. David picked her up and headed for the stairs.
"What are you doing?" Emily whispered against his neck. "I thought you wanted to talk."
"Leave it to Emily Prentiss to want to talk when I was hoping for some other form of interrogation in mind to make you spill your secrets."
She pulled back to look at him. "That's pretty bold," Emily taunted.
"Didn't you know I'm an expert profiler?"
Emily started to laugh but was halted by David's kiss. A kiss that held the promise of love and ecstasy, and she was more than eager to accept.
And David was more than happy to oblige.
The End.
"A kiss is a lovely trick, designed by nature, to stop words when speech becomes superfluous." Ingrid Bergman
