"Exit Wounds" has stuck with me after nearly a month -trying to figure out why Rossi was in a tux with his tie undone and Prentiss was in a dress and nothing was explained. Then there was the gesture of him putting his arm around her as the plane turned. And curiously, the only sleeping arrangements mentioned were Reid and Morgan. I can't leave it there for my favourite pair. So, I wondered: Why can't I fill in the blanks?

This story was inspired by "The Closer I Get (To You)" by Roberta Flack and the late Donny Hathaway.

The Closer I Get (To You)

Emily Prentiss unlocked her front door and opened it. Turning to Dave, her eyes dancing with merriment, she asked: "Would you like to come in?"

Leaning against the door frame, Dave Rossi eyed Emily. His eyes traveled slowly from her laughing eyes, down her creamy neck…quickly past her bosom, to her long gorgeous legs. Then back to her face.

"Sure. Why not?" Dave straightened up and followed her inside. Gently he closed the door and threw the deadbolt. Hanging his jacket on the hook near the door, Dave walked over to the stereo and turned it on.

A quick inventory had him deciding between Roberta Flack and Norah Jones. He was definitely in the mood for a little romance tonight: Roberta won. Extracting the CD, Dave inserted it and hit play. The soft melodic contralto filled the room as he unfastened the tie and top button of his white dress shirt.

A noise in the kitchen caught his ear and he debated whether to start a fire when Emily appeared with two wine glasses. Handing one to Dave, she sipped lightly.

Dave eyed the full glass of Rose. "If I didn't know any better, I would think that you were trying to get me drunk."

Emily narrowed her eyes and sipped again. "Maybe you ought to retire again, if you only think I want to get you drunk."

Setting the glass down on the coffee table, Dave reached for her arm and pulled her forward. Taking the glass from her hand, he placed it beside his. With expert finesse, he wrapped both arms around her waist. His mouth mere inches from hers, he whispered: "If you don't want to get me drunk, what did you have in mind?"

Caught off guard, Emily tried to reign in the emotions coursing thru her body. "Lots of things," she replied breathlessly.

"For instance?" Dave asked as he began to nuzzle her neck. The soft tickle of his goatee against her sensitive skin caused Emily to shiver in anticipation.

"I don't remember." And she didn't. Overwhelmed by his touch, presence, and masculinity, Emily wasn't even sure what she knew. And if she did know, would it be any more real than the fantasy of Dave Rossi holding her in his arms?

"Emily Prentiss, you mean to tell me that you invited me to an embassy ball, showed me a good time, took me back to your place, then hand me a full glass of wine but can't remember why?"

"Yes." Her head was spinning, her knees were turning to jelly, and her heart was racing so fast, but she couldn't tell him what she wanted.

"Liar," he chided and moved to the other side of her neck. "I know what this is doing to you. I can keep it up all night until you tell me what you have in mind."

Emily closed her eyes against the erotic sensation short-circuiting her nervous system. Leaning her head back, she gave him more access to her erogenous zone. She was going to either have one helluva hickey or beard burn, but she didn't care; they didn't have to be into work until Monday. Two days to recover would be sufficient.

"Make you a deal: I'll tell you what I want, and then you tell me what you want, okay?" Dave promised. Stopping his delicious torture, he pulled back enough to look her in the eyes.

Swallowing hard, and then licking her lips, she nodded. "Deal."

"Touch me; anywhere you want."

Emily's eyes widened in surprise. Anywhere? Her eyes searched his. Dave nodded. Hesitantly, she raised her hand toward his face and stopped. A once in a lifetime opportunity and she didn't want to waste it with a clichéd move.

Her eyes moved to his chest. Her hand followed. For three years she had wondered what she would find under his dress shirts, sweatshirts, and casual attire. More than once she had dreamt of seeing him shirtless, now was her chance. She shook her head; too easy. He would be expecting that from her.

Keeping her eyes locked on his, Emily took a deep breath and placed her hand where she knew the pleasure would be mutual for them both.

At her touch, Dave's eyes widened in surprise. Well, well, well…he would be damned; he never thought Emily Prentiss had it in her to make the first move. Looking at her face, he saw how her decision had managed to surprise them both.

Emily caught her breath. She had done it. Actually reached out and touched him and he didn't disappear or run for cover. She watched his eyes darken with desire. Slowly he closed the space between them. Emily felt his pulse pick up under her hand.

"Do you know what you are doing to me right now?" Dave growled. It was all he could do to hold himself in check especially when her cheeks flushed pink. Only Emily could be embarrassed from making the first move.

"I-I hope so."

He took a deep breath. Emily Prentiss might be a determined, intelligent, hard-ass of an agent in the office, but right now, with her hand touching him, close enough to ravish, and so desirable it should be a crime, she was a woman...a beautiful, sexy, and desirable woman. A point that was not lost on Dave.

"Now tell me what you want."

"Kiss me," she whispered.

"What?"

Clearing her throat, Em repeated her request, only louder: "Kiss me."

And he did. Covering her lips with his, Dave plundered Emily's soft mouth with a hunger that overwhelmed and scared him. He moved her hand away and pulled her to meld against him. Her touch had triggered a desire so long ago forgotten that he was almost surprised that it was still around…waiting for the right moment; the right person to release it from its self-imposed exile.

Parting her lips, Dave deepened the kiss. Feeling her hands move thru his hair, he shuddered. For so long he had dreamt of her touch, being in his arms, lying in his bed. Okay, scratch that -lying in her bed. He could feel himself start to lose control and wondered if she wouldn't mind moving to the bedroom at a later -er, a much later time.

Emily felt as though she was losing her mind. Dave was kissing her, stroking her, and her hands were returning in kind. Was this moment just a dream? It had to be. If this was reality, and the way he was making her feel was the way he could have always made her feel, then why had he held back for so long? Why had she held back for so long? She felt him pull the zipper down the back of her dress and the cool air upon her skin caused a shiver.

Moving in closer, she tried to consume him -his touch, his desire, his heat. She wanted all of him. As her hands moved to his shirt buttons, she wondered if Dave was above making love on hardwood floors instead of a down bed?

Dave was in ecstasy. He knew he should blame it on the wine, but he had only had one glass the whole evening. The only sane thing he could reason was that it was Emily causing his intoxication. He felt her fingers undo two buttons and the urge to be one with her finally consumed him.

Without breaking the kiss, he picked her up and gently laid her on the faded cabbage pattern rug. Moving to her neck, as his hands slid under her skirt, he teased her until she cried out for mercy. After tonight, he wasn't sure how they were going to deal with facing each other across the table. What the hell, Monday would take care of itself soon enough. Or sooner.

Dave thought he heard something but couldn't put his finger on it. Blocking it out, he concentrated on satisfying Emily. There it was again. He stopped.

Emily tried to catch her breath. "Phone," she gasped. Dave looked at her stupidly. "Phone. Ringing. Yours."

Pushing himself up on to his knees, Dave reached for the phone in his pants pocket and flipped it open. "This had better be damned important," he greeted gruffly.

"Sorry, Boss," Garcia apologized. "I know it's your night off-"

"Don't tell me: we have a murder case," he finished. It wasn't a question. And his tone was one of being totally pissed off.

Garcia took a moment to gather her wits. What the hell had she interrupted? "Yes. Yes sir. Hotch wants all of us in ASAP."

"Tell them I will be in when I get there," he replied in a tone that left no room for arguments.

Garcia sputtered. "I-I will tell them that. Goodnight."

Dave flipped the phone closed and cast a look at the panting woman lying on the floor. "I guess you heard."

"Must be pretty bad for them to call us in on a weekend off," Emily tried to sooth.

"Murderers have the damndest way of throwing cold water on a moment."

Emily started to reply when her phone rang. Dave stood up and walked over to her purse. Extracting it, he tossed it lightly in her direction.

Hitting enter, Em greeted: "Hello Garcia." Pause and nod. "It wouldn't be a Friday off without a case. You call the others?" Another nod. "Okay, I will be there in a few. See you then. Bye." She hung up. Feeling Dave's stare, she sighed. "Considering the way you reamed her for interrupting, the least I could do was be friendly."

Extending a hand, Emily prompted Dave to help her up. Straightening her dress and hair, she turned around for him to replace the zipper.

Facing forward, she tried to button his shirt. Halfway decent, but the tie was a lost cause.

"You owe her."

"For what? Interrupting us?"

Emily brushed the stray lint from Dave's white dress shirt. "That wasn't her fault and you know it; I meant snapping at the poor woman. She is only doing her job."

Dave sighed and rolled his eyes. "What do you suggest?"

"Well, Hotch once sent her flowers, and Gideon sent her an MP3 player."

"Don't tell me I have to give her a laptop!"

Emily mulled the thought over. "Hmmm…she probably has a dozen. But an I-Pad will work."

Dave picked up his jacket and slipped it on. "It would be worth it if I had had the chance to finish what I started."

Ignoring him, Emily brushed her hair smooth and refreshed her lipstick. "How do I look?"

Dipping his head low, Dave kissed her hard and slow. "Better," he remarked and pulled away.

Emily let out a frustrated breath. "David Rossi, that was uncalled for!"

"Perhaps, but since we both can't show up to the BAU at the same time, it gives me a moment to get a head start and grab a cup of coffee." Dave walked to the door. Turning the handle, he looked back. "See you there."

Emily heard the door close and click. Running her hands over her eyes, she tried to get a grip before leaving. There was no time to freshen up or change. Wiping the smeared lipstick off with a handkerchief, she ran the tube over her lips again. Her perfect evening had just been ruined. Whatever it was, it had better be damned good, she cursed.

A quick blot, a grab of the car keys, another look in the mirror, and she was out the door.