I'm baacckk! Hope I wasn't missed too much. This story is going to be a little different from my previous stories. A little less action, a bit more character driven. This one picks up where my first story 'Righting a Wrong' left off minus the zoo scene. That scene will be addressed later in the fic. That said I have to say I don't not own any of the Criminal Minds characters. Now go and read.
"Ready to blow this gin joint?" Rossi asked, strolling into Emily's hospital room.
"Since last week," Emily replied. She sat on the bed dressed in navy blue sweat pants and a light gray t-shirt with the navy blue FBI lettering peeking out from behind the sling. Idly she swung her tennis shoes clad feet back and forth. Her packed bag rested next to her.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked when she grabbed her crutch and started to stand up.
She looked to him in puzzlement. "You asked if I was ready. I am. So let's go."
Rossi pointed at the bed. "Sit. We have to wait for the attendant with the wheelchair."
"I can walk, Rossi." She protested.
"I know you can, Emily, but it is hospital policy. Just give them the pleasure of shoving you out the door and out of their lives forever," he teased.
"Fine," she grumbled and sat back down.
He looked around at the now bare walls. The day before JJ had help her take down all the get-well cards and drawings. "What did you do with the flowers and stuffed animals?"
She smiled. "I asked the nurses to give the flowers that were still good to other patients that didn't have any and sent the stuffed animals down to the children's ward."
"Even Rossi, Jr.?" he asked hopefully.
Emily laughed and patted the bag next to her. "Nope. RJ is right here. Jack would kill me if I gave him away."
A man wearing a red blazer poked his head through the door. "Emily Prentiss?"
"That's me," she said in obvious delight. Finally she was getting out of here.
He grinned and backed into the room with the wheelchair. "Your chariot has arrived."
"It's about time," she said as she slipped off the bed and over to the wheelchair. She ignored the helping hand the attendant held out and eased down into it. Emily then handed Rossi her crutch who took it wordlessly.
The attendant laughed. "Looks like someone is eager to get out of here," he said as he unlocked the brakes and pushed the wheelchair forward.
"You have no idea," Rossi said, shouldering Emily's bag and following him to the elevators.
Within minutes they were in the lobby of the hospital and waiting by the main doors. Emily fidgeted while Dave left to retrieve his car. There was a loud roaring and Rossi pulled up under the covered entrance. Emily's jaw dropped and the attendant let out a low whistle.
"Sweet!" he said in awe as he wheeled Emily outside.
Rossi hopped out and opened the passenger door for her.
"You certainly know how to spoil a girl," Emily said, running her eyes appreciatively over the sleek metallic black Porsche Boxster.
"I try," he said, letting Emily slide onto the leather seat without help.
He shut the door after her and went back around to the driver's side. After he got in he restrained himself helping her with the seatbelt. He pretended not to watch while she struggled to get it latched. Once secure, she adjusted the belt so that it lay more comfortably over the sling.
Rossi donned a pair of sunglasses and grinned at her. "Ready?"
"Ready."
"Top up or down?"
Emily smiled. "Definitely down. I want to feel the wind on my face."
He revved the engine for the benefit of the attendant who was still drooling over the car and pulled out into traffic.
As they drove along, Rossi would, every now and then, sneak a glance at Emily. She rode leaning back against the headrest with her eyes closed. Occasionally she would reach up to brush back a strand of hair that the wind had blown across her face.
"So when is your first appointment with the physical therapist?" He casually asked.
"I don't know," Emily said with a shrug of her good shoulder. "You'll have to ask Garcia, my self appointed event planner."
Rossi chuckled.
Emily cracked open one eye. "Nice to know that someone thinks it's funny," she said somewhat snidely.
He cocked an eyebrow at her. "And you don't?"
She made a face and tugged at the seatbelt, trying unsuccessfully to get it to lie more comfortably across her injured shoulder and the sling-enclosed arm. "I'm getting tired of people deciding what is best for me without asking," she grumbled.
Rossi nodded. He chose to remain silent figuring that Emily was merely venting a bit of the frustration that had been building up over the last year, probably originally stemming from the day JJ was removed from the team. He wondered if this was one of the cracks in Emily's mental defenses that Hotch had mentioned.
"Why don't you ask her to stop?" Rossi suggested, knowing that Emily would have a better chance of convincing an elephant to go to the prom with a mouse than getting Garcia to curtail her over protectiveness.
Emily gave him a rueful smile. "I couldn't do that. It's annoying as hell but I know it's Penelope's way of showing how much she wants to help me. I can't take that from her. So I'll be a good little girl and do what everyone tells me to do."
"Like you did at the hospital?" he teased.
"Touché," she said with a genuine laugh. Then she sobered. "Ignore me, Dave. Guess I'm having a little pity party for myself."
"You have a right to feel that way. You've been through more in the past eight months than any other person would have in their life time."
"Wow. I feel so much better now," she said with a roll of her eyes.
"You know what I mean, Smartass," he said with a roll of his own.
"I do. And Dave? Thanks for letting me vent."
He smiled. "No problem. I'm willing to listen anytime you want to."
Emily nodded and turned to look at the road ahead. She brushed back a strand of hair and then turned back to him.
"Oh. One more thing, Dave."
"What's that, Emily?"
She gave him a wicked grin. "It's Supervisory Special Agent Smartass to you."
For the remainder of the drive Emily fell silent content to watch the houses glide by. Eventually she began to notice the change in the quality of the homes. She sat up straighter and looked around.
"This is a nice neighborhood, Dave," she commented.
"I like to think so," he said, flashing her a grin.
A few minutes later he turned into a circular driveway of a two-storied white house with dormer windows, a covered front porch and a trellis archway that led to the detached garage in back. He came to a stop by the porch and cut the engine.
"Home sweet home," he said, gazing warmly at the building.
"This is some house," Emily said in amazement, taking the subtle details on the facade.
Dave squinted at her. "It's a mansion, not a house," he corrected her.
"Riigghtt," Emily drawled with a roll of her eyes.
Dave jumped out, retrieved her bag and crutch from the trunk and had her door open before she had even moved to unbuckle the seatbelt.
"May I?" he asked, offering her his hand, knowing how hard it could be to get out of those low slung seats especially with a bad hip.
Emily hesitated then slowly nodded. She let him take her good hand in his and eased her out of the car and onto her feet. Wordlessly he handed her the crutch and gestured for her to precede him up the walkway. She thanked him softly and made her way across the paving stones to the front door with Dave following discretely behind.
At the door Dave searched his pockets for his house key. When found he inserted the key into the lock but paused before he turned it.
"I probably should have asked you this earlier. You're not allergic to dogs are you?"
"Ummm…no," Emily answered hesitantly.
"Good," he grinned, unlocking the door and swung it open.
A black Labrador Retriever immediately enthusiastically greeted them. He danced around begging for a few pats before squeezing between Emily and Dave to dash outside to pee.
"That was Mudgie," he explained as he disarmed the alarm
"Cute dog," Emily said, watching Mudgie sniff intently at the base of a tree.
Dave paused. "Cute?" he asked in an affronted tone. "My dog is not 'cute'. He is handsome like his old man," he asserted firmly.
Emily smiled. "I stand corrected. Handsome dog though I'm not too sure about his owner."
The look on Dave's face only made her smile wider. While they waited for the dog to finish his business, Dave showed Emily how the alarm system worked and gave her the access code so she could come and go as she pleased.
"Well, what do you think?" he asked as he led her into the main part of the house.
Emily turned around in a slow circle nodding her head in approval. "This is nice, Dave. Real nice."
"Thanks."
Dave grinned broadly as she set out to explore the first floor. His smile slowly faded to a look of concern when he noticed what she was doing as she moved throughout the rooms. Emily was stopping at every window to look out. As she did so she would reach up to verify that each was securely latched. When she passed the French doors she jiggled the handles to make sure they were locked. Even on her way back Emily paused to rearm the alarm.
It must have been a habit she had picked up while hiding in Paris, he mused. And Emily probably doesn't even realize she is doing it. How terrified she must have felt, constantly on edge wondering when Doyle was going to show up at her door and kill her. It was something you didn't get over in one night even when you know your assailant is dead. Dave vowed, right then and now, that he would do everything within his power to make Emily feel safe again, so that she would no longer have to hide behind walls of brick and mortar and walls of thoughts.
By the time Emily completed her circuit of the first floor, Dave had turned his focus to Mudgie to appear unconcerned with her behavior. He looked up when she stopped next to him.
"Would you like to see your room?" he inquired.
"Sure," she agreed.
"This way." He shouldered her bag and led the way to the stairs.
At the bottom he hesitated. Manners, drilled into him during childhood, dictated that he should allow a woman to go ahead of him. But he felt Emily would be embarrassed if he stood there and watched her struggle up the steps. Perhaps he should offer to turn the study into the guest room. No, he quickly discarded the idea. If he did that he would be implying that she couldn't manage a single flight of stairs. That would be even more humiliating. So without another word he started up with Mudgie bounding ahead of him.
Emily also paused. It had never occurred to her that Rossi's place would have stairs, an unexpected hurdle that she would have to conquer. She mentally counted the steps: twelve not including the landing. Though from her perspective it seemed like fifty. Emily took a deep breath and rested her left hand on the banister. She stepped up with her right then dragged up her left foot. It was a process that she repeated twelve more times until she was standing safely on the landing. But the exertion took its toll. She was slightly out of breath and felt tired. She glanced down the empty hallway relieved that Dave hadn't witnessed her difficulty mastering the stairs.
Two heads poked out of the doorway to her left. "We're in here, Emily," Dave called out while Mudgie softly woofed in agreement.
Emily brushed back her hair from her face. "Coming," she answered. Straightening her spine she limped into the bedroom.
It was exactly how Dave had described it to her at the hospital. Big. More like a suite than a bedroom. The atmosphere was warm and inviting. The décor was subtle and not at all overpowering. There was a comfortable looking chair with a matching footstool in front of the large windows that must overlook the garden he had mentioned. Emily easily pictured herself curled up in it with a good book.
She limped over to the windows to look out. Dave sadly noted that she one again had unconsciously reached to check the locks. He quietly joined her. "Nice view isn't it?" he asked.
She gave him an easy smile. "It is." Emily then turned around and went to sit on the queen sized bed next to her bag. Mudgie nudged her leg hoping she would pet him.
Neither spoke as an uncomfortable quiet descended on the room making it feel much smaller than it was. It gave Dave time to study her more closely. It was obvious from the slump in her shoulders that the stairs had exhausted her more than she was letting on.
To fill the awkward silence between them Dave said, "The bathroom has clean towels and anything else you might need." He gestured to the closet and dresser. "Both are empty so you have plenty of room for your clothes."
Emily looked up from rubbing Mudgie's head. "I don't think I have enough clothes in my bag to fill one drawer," she observed with a wry laugh.
"Actually you do."
"Huh?" She looked at him perplexed.
Dave stepped over to the closet and slid open the door. Stacked inside were three large cardboard boxes. "JJ and Will went to the storage unit where she had put the contents of your apartment to get those for you. JJ knew you needed more than the clothes on your back."
"That was kind of her," Emily said softly.
"You also have those," Dave continued, pointing to the travel bag and box on the dresser. Emily immediately recognized her meager possessions from Paris.
"It took us a while to track down the motel you were holed up in and even longer to find the locker at the bus station. You certainly know how to cover your tracks."
Emily dropped her gaze to the floor. "Once you learn it, it's hard to forget," she said lamely.
Dave paused. He had meant it as a compliment but Emily had taken it as a criticism of her hiding her past as a CIA operative, a spook. He quickly set about to rectify her misconception.
"Hey, Emily," he said and waited for her to meet his eyes, which, of course, she didn't. "I meant that in the best of ways. I was trying to tell you that you are damn good at what you do. CIA and FBI."
Emily finally lifted her eyes to his. "You think so?" she asked with a small smile.
He returned it. "I know so."
Another silence hung over them but this time Emily was the first to break it. "I think I'm going to take a shower and wash the stink of the hospital off. I might take a nap afterwards."
"Sure," Dave said. He whistled Mudgie to his side and together they headed for the door.
Emily watched them leave. Just when Dave was about to close the door she spoke up quietly. "Dave?"
He stopped and looked back in. "Yes, Emily?"
"Thanks for making me stay here."
"You're welcome," he said with a nod and closed the door behind him. He waited in the hallway for what he knew was coming next. A minute later he heard the sharp click of the lock turning. With a shake of his head he looked down at the black dog.
"Looks like we have a little project on our hands, Mudgie. Make Emily feel safe again."
Hope you all enjoyed it and please let me know what you think. I'm having fun writing this. As before I will be posting a new chapter every Wednesday like clockwork. It is winter so I don't anticipate any delays. Also I am not a shipper so there will not be any romance between the team members. They are all just friends and coworkers. Until next week.