Watching the season finale the other night, I was struck - again - by the look in JJ's eyes as she formally met Dave Rossi on the field of experience and maturity. So, instead of sleeping, my brain started reworking the scene to happen at Dave's house (like that would happen on the show, but that is the glory of Fanfic!) and work in past, present, and future happenings - along with her new take charge attitude.
Dedicated to ilovetvalot.
Song prompt: "Caught Up In The Rapture" by Anita Baker
Caught Up In The Rapture
"I'm coming back."
The words seemed to reverberate off Dave Rossi's living room walls. Had he heard her correctly? JJ was coming back?
"Are you sure?" he asked carefully.
She leveled a gaze at the profiler who had pulled the strings to make this moment possible. "Would I be here at your house if I meant otherwise?" She walked over to the wet bar and poured herself a drink. The moment called for a stiff drink. Or two.
"I would like to think that you would be at home asleep in your bed," Dave replied darkly. "Maybe getting your rest for another day at the State Department."
JJ sat on the barstool and swung her long, shapely leg. "Sleep is overrated. So was the State Department."
"Got you out of the BAU." Dave leaned against the fireplace. "And on to better things."
"I was nothing but an overpaid assistant. At least I was appreciated here. There, I was just another pretty face."
"Honey," Dave drawled, "you will never be just another pretty face." He stepped toward the bar. "Still, I wonder what you have to gain by coming back."
JJ snorted softly. "I guess I could ask you the same thing. What strings did you pull to get me back here?"
"Don't you know by now that I know where all the bodies are buried?"
"I'm not surprised." JJ continued to swing her leg to that mysterious rhythm that only she could hear but was captivating him. "So, what's in it for you?"
"You think there is something in your coming back for me?" Dave tried to sound surprised.
JJ's eyes narrowed. Slightly. "You're an opportunist."
"I go after what I want."
"Exactly. So, answer my question."
Dave took another step forward. "The team missed you."
"Really?"
"With Emily gone, and Strauss on some type of leave…the place isn't the same."
"What about Ashley Seaver?"
"Not the same, Cara."
"She's blonde and beautiful. And she looks good in jeans," JJ observed and sipped the potent brew slowly. The man definitely had great taste in clothes, furnishings, and scotch.
"She isn't you."
JJ stood up. "So the truth finally comes out." She set the glass down on the smooth oak counter.
"Are you profiling me?"
"I learned from the best." Her fingers snaked up and toyed with the pearl necklace resting against her soft alabaster skin.
Dave tried to concentrate on the moment and not her hands. "I see you got your birthday present."
"Thank you. How did you know that pearls are my favourite?" she asked while twisting the shiny off white beads. She had his attention.
"Well, I am a profiler." His eyes scanned the room before resting on the framed picture on the wall. It was of the team. The last one they had taken before that tragic case in LA that changed everything. They were so happy. Life was good. What the hell had happened?
"How does Will feel about this change of career?" he asked hesitantly.
"He's back in New Orleans."
"Visiting family?"
"For good. I guess when I told him that I was coming back here, he had something to say about it." There was a tiny bit of regret in her tone, but overall, she sounded relieved.
"Nothing good."
JJ scoffed. "To say the least."
"His loss. Our gain." Dave felt a bit of mean gladness fill his gut.
"Are you ready for me to come back?" she asked softly.
"The team is ready for you to come back," he admitted.
"I know they are. Are you?"
"If I say no?" He shrugged indifferently.
"I'll have to call you a liar." She moved closer into him. Face to face, she could feel the heat from his body.
"And if I say yes?"
"That is," she purred, her hand running up his chest to snake around his neck, "the most honest thing you've said all night."
"JJ…" he started but he was losing his train of thought. Her hands were touching him.
"Tell me that you missed me."
"You know I did."
"So, say it," she murmured.
"What will that prove?" he returned. He wanted to touch her so badly.
"That my suspicions were correct."
"Which is?" His body grew hot as she moved in closer. Her perfume weaved around him subtly tickling his senses.
Feather soft, her fingers grazed his skin, fiddled with his hair. Her breath fanned his cheek.
"Jen…"
"Nothing wrong with telling the truth. I missed you too."