David Rossi hasn't been able to sleep. He'd hated leaving Emily on the streets of Georgetown in the snow, but if he'd learned one thing throughout his three marriages it was that when a woman said she needed to be alone: grant her that peace.

He had a book, an old leatherbound copy of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes, that he intended to read, but it's open in his lap. He's been staring at the same page for the last twenty minutes and still doesn't have a clue what's written on it.

The brandy snifter he'd filled earlier lay untouched on the end table beside him. He'd poured it with the intention of relaxing, decompressing like he does after most cases. Hadn't touched it in the hopes that Emily might decide that she needed someone to talk to and call him. The last thing he needed was to be blitzed or even remotely buzzed if she called.

Mugsy's head popped up from the floor in front of the fire, her head tilting in anticipation. Rossi shook his head, the girl must be getting old, she seemed to start at just about anything nowadays. Of course, it was possible that she was feeding off of his emotions and stress and just reacting in kind.

The ringing of the doorbell got Mugsy's full attention and the girl was up and off down the hallway before Dave could even think about moving the book and getting his ass off the couch. Maybe the old girl still had it.

Moving cautiously to the door, Dave wondered who it could be. He certainly wasn't expecting anyone to show up on his doorstep. Mugsy's tail wagged as she sniffed at the bottom crease of the door, easing Rossi concern slightly.

Mugsy was a good judge of character, and she rarely wagged so enthusiastically for someone she didn't know. Rossi glanced out the peep hole and the figure that greeted his gaze made him swing the door open before he thought to even entice Mugsy to move out of the way. Luckily, the old girl definitely did still have it, because she was able to swiftly move out of the way of the swinging door.

"Emily?"

Prentiss stood before him, the cab slowly pulling off as she glanced after it. "I'm sorry, this was silly. I shouldn't have come."

Dave's hand shot out and gently grabbed her arm. "You're soaked. Please tell me you didn't walk all the way out here from Georgetown."

Emily refused to meet his gaze her stance and mannerisms making her seem more filled with self-doubt than Dave thought he'd ever seen her – including standing in that abandoned lot admitting to the abortion. "No. I finally decided to take a cab. I was going home, but..."

"Don't be silly. Come in."

Dave ushered her into the foyer, Mugsy sniffing at her feet. "It seems you've gained a friend. Mugsy usually doesn't warm up to people quite so quickly."

Emily bent down and scratched between Mugsy's ears. Flakes of snow quickly melting against her coat and skin, causing small rivulets of water to run down and drip on the floor.

Dave noticed the drips."You're drenched, Emily, how long have you been out?"

"When did you leave me?"

Dave's eyebrows crested toward his hair line. "You've been out in the snow for over two hours? For crying out loud, Prentiss, you need to change. You'll catch pneumonia."

Emily stood a small smile crossing her features as she shivered under her coat. "I don't have my go bag with me, Dave, so that's a little difficult."

Dave shook his head, his mind quickly searching through the list of limited possibilities. "You need to warm up. I'll show you where the bathroom is, you take a hot shower and I'll find you something to wear. Then we can throw your clothes in the dryer."

At first, Emily followed him as if she was in a trance, then she thought better of it. "Dave, this is ridiculous. I didn't come here for a shower and change of clothes." When he turned, she stopped. "I'm... I'm actually not sure exactly why I did come here. And I'm sure that I've thoroughly ruined your evening."

"Yes, Prentiss, the nocturnal schedule of David Rossi is as enticing as the rumors claim and I was in the middle of a fantastic threesome right before you got here."

Emily blushed, and Dave almost regretted his comment. "It wasn't right of me to presume that you wouldn't be doing anything. It's not like there's any reason I should expect to be able to drop by at any time and have you cater to my needs."

Dave took her hand and gently stepped backwards toward the bathroom. "And it's not like you should have any reason to think that you can't. Take a shower, warm up, and then if you're up to it, we can talk about stepping on toes later. Sound like a plan?"

Emily nodded, following him further down a hallway and into a large, luxurious guest bathroom. He squeezed her hand before leaving and walking down the hallway, promising to find clothes that would fit her.

A thousand questions floated through her head, the least of which was how she'd managed to wind up here. Why she'd even thought for a moment that David Rossi's place might be a good place to decompress. She wasn't sure how or when she planned to head home, or even what motives she'd had for coming here.

She wasn't at a point in her life where she was going to bother lying to herself. She'd found Rossi attractive since she'd first met him - something that had originally surprised her. She knew his reputation, she'd read his books, knew the popularity that he had among their colleagues - both good and bad - and she'd figured that between her upbringing and her career she was more than beyond the whole hero-worship deal.

She closed the outer door to the bathroom, impressed to discover that the shower was separate and had its own door. As much as she had tried to avoid the thought, the image of Dave coming into the bathroom to deliver clothes while she was in the middle of showering had flitted across her mind. She quickly stripped, folding her clothes as neatly as she could, and wrapped herself in one of the humongous 1000-thread towels that Dave kept there. As she stepped into the shower and closed the inner door, she wondered if anyone had used them before her.

The water was hot and she'd turned it almost as far as it would go along the dial, but it still hit her skin with only a dull ache. Her skin tingled under the drops, but the shivers still wracked her system. No matter what she seemed to do, she could not feel the warmth.

The tears came next. Tears for the baby she never knew, tears for John and how close he had come to being the latest victim, tears for Matthew and the love she had never allowed herself to admit to. Matthew had been the one that had been with her, helped her through, and stood by her no matter what she had done or how it had all turned out. Matthew was one of those people whom you would be lucky to meet one of in your lifetime.

Dave had known her well enough to know there was no way she would back down from all of this. He had seen that she needed to confide in someone and he had realized that it was something that she wouldn't be able to confide in the whole team about. Even among family there had to be some secrets kept to oneself. Dave understood that and had recognized it in her and in this case. He had reached out to her; even understood her hesitancy in regards to the church, and supported her in it.

He never once judged or questioned, and, she finally realized, that was the reason she had felt comfortable and justified in coming here this evening. Perhaps, just maybe, she'd been lucky enough to meet a second man like Matthew when she'd befriended David Rossi.

A light knock on the door pulled her from her self-reflection and she wondered how long she had been in the shower. The room was filled with a thick steam and she was finally starting to feel the sting as the water pelted against her skin.

"There are clothes out here for you whenever you're ready, Em. I hope a pair of loose flannel pajamas is good enough for you."

"I'm sure that they'll be great, Dave. Thanks."

Her voice sounded rough to her own ears and she wondered if Dave could tell that she'd been crying. Hell, she'd been crying a lot lately and she was sure that the team had become used to ignoring her abnormal behavior by now. She sure as hell had become used to trying to ignore it in herself.

"I'll make some tea."

Emily wasn't sure if it was real or if she was imagining the tension in his voice. Shutting off the water she carefully stepped from the shower and moved to the outer room. The steam followed her, though the mirror was clean for the most part. Her image looked foreign and for a moment she wasn't sure that she was actually looking at herself. Her eyes were sunken, dark circles outlining them on her skin. Her nose was raw from the cold and her earlier nosebleed, and her skin was much redder than her normal pale tones.

She found the pair of red plaid flannel pajama pants - the kind that she could never imagine David Rossi wearing and she wondered for a moment who had gotten him so wrong for Christmas or if there was a side to the profiler that she had yet to uncover - easily enough. There was an old Princeton sweatshirt that was several sizes too large with the neck stretched to the point it threatened to slip off of her shoulder at any given moment. Together with the warmth they brought her, made them some of the most comfortable clothing Emily Prentiss had ever put on. The fact that it smelled like a combination of David Rossi, good whiskey and an excellent cigar, almost made her giggle.

He'd left a note with the clothes that he didn't have slippers that had any chance in hell of fitting her, but he'd left a pair of knitted socks that he hoped would help. The man honestly seemed to have thought of everything. As Emily used a comb to quickly untangle her hair, she went to grab her wet clothes from before, only to find that particular corner of the counter bare.

Emily felt an immediate flush heat her already reddened cheeks. The thought of David Rossi handling her undergarments, even for the briefest of moments, made her feel slightly awkward and very exposed. Exiting the room, she greeted Mugsy as the dog hopped to her feet in greeting, wagging her tail affectionately and begging for the slightest bit of attention.

"I see she's still infatuated with you."

Emily blushed under his gaze. "Not sure why."

Dave handed her a hot cup of tea and escorted her out to the sitting room where a brilliant fire was going and a sofa sat in front of the fireplace with a decorative afghan over the back. She took a seat smiling as Mugsy plopped down on the floor in front of her, the dog's tail wagging the whole time. Putting the tea on the side table, she wrapped her arms around herself, a small shiver coming forth from somewhere Emily hadn't identified. Suddenly the house felt chilled after the heat of the shower. Dave's arms were around her in an instant and she tensed visibly until she realized that he was wrapping the afghan around her shoulders securely so that it would provide her some additional warmth.

"It's okay, Emily. Really."

She smiled nervously, knowing that he had to have some idea as to her feelings. He was a profiler. He studied behavior. He knew how people - how women acted and reacted. And the intra-personnel referendum on intra-team profiling could say whatever the hell it wanted to say, it didn't change who they were. Getting them to not profile certain behaviors was like asking them not to breathe. It was something that was just impossible to do. And impossible to expect. And she knew that going in, so why it was suddenly hitting her now, out of the blue, was a total surprise to her.

Dave was back a few moments later, and she almost wondered how she hadn't noticed that he'd left. He sat down beside her on the small couch, and replaced the tea cup that she had picked up again with a brandy snifter.

"This might be a bit more along the lines of what you're needing."

Emily smiled shyly. This was ridiculous. Dave was a friend. He was a friend and a colleague. Someone she had trusted with some of her deepest, darkest secrets. Someone who knew and understood the shadows that lurked in her past and the skeletons that were in her closet. This wasn't a place where she needed to feel embarrassed, exposed, or vulnerable.

"I'm sorry." She whispered finally. "This is silly and I'm being ridiculous."

Dave's arm hesitantly wove its way around her shoulder. "It's fine, Emily. Trust me, I can understand. We all have a past. We all have things that we hope we've managed to avoid and put far, far behind us. Mine is on Long Island. But I think that if it came to it, I could face it again with the support of the team. And you did that. You pushed and you fought, but you endured."

Emily shivered as she stared into the fire and Dave pulled her a bit closer. "I feel like such an ass. Such an idiot. And I really should go see John at some point."

Dave tensed slightly. "I'm sure he'll be out of the hospital soon. We can call in the morning and find out if they've already released him or if they're still keeping him for observation. In the meantime, you need to warm up and get some rest. Just relax."

Taking a sip of the brandy, Emily smiled as the warmth flowed down her throat. The tiny bite helping to take away the chill and possibly a few of her inhibitions about her situation as well. "Thanks, Dave."

The light laughter was not at all what she had been expecting in response. "For what?"

She wasn't sure how to sum it all up. Would he even understand what she was getting at? "For understanding. For supporting me. For ... everything."

He huffed and pulled her a bit closer. "Don't be silly, I would have done it for anyone." Her head was now practically resting on his shoulder and her eyebrows rose as she looked at his face. "What?"

"We'll contact Rome?"

Dave shrugged. "You heard about that, huh?"

"I think the whole division did." Her expression softened a bit. "Morgan found it quite amusing and asked me several questions about it."

"Oh?"

"He's convinced we're sleeping together." She looked away slightly, watching as Mugsy's tailed wagged again. "Of course, he's also convinced that Hotch and Reid need to just quit it and hook up already."

Dave laughed at that, his chest bouncing under the action. "Now, that would be interesting."

Emily shifted slightly, sinking a bit deeper into the feeling of Dave's chest next to her. "Morgan always has to have something to comment on."

"Does he always have to be such an ass about things though?"

Taking the final sip of the brandy, Emily shrugged. "That's just how he is."

Dave's hand rubbed at her shoulder, the soothing motion and the brandy dulling her senses nicely.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed when Dave nudged at her shoulder. "Em, come on, I'm not as young as I used to be, sleeping on the couch in an odd position isn't much of an option for me if I want to be able to walk in the morning."

Her eyes fluttered open and Mugsy's face greeted her at eye level. Blinking a few times she realized that her head was in Dave's lap and her hand was resting gently on his knee. She shot up with enough force to make herself dizzy.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall sleep. I should call a cab and head home."

Dave stretched his legs, rolling his eyes at her. "Stop. You're staying. I couldn't possibly let you out of my sight so that you could go home and wallow. By the time you got there you would be completely awake and you'd probably stay up until you could call the hospital and check on John. Who, by the way, I do not forgive for how he treated you the first time around."

Emily's head spun. She'd never let on that John was the father. Surely it shouldn't have been too difficult to figure out, but she wasn't expecting anyone - Dave included - to toss it out into the open like that. His hand found hers and pulled her to her feet before she was able to steady herself and she found herself completely unbalanced.

"Whoa." Dave's arm wrapped around her waist, his arm holding her firmly against his chest. "You okay?"

She nodded, not meeting his gaze. "I think I just stood up too quickly."

Dave's hand splayed out across her back. "You sure?"

She smiled nervously as his head bent down slowly, "Em?"

Her lips brushed nervously against his in a chaste kiss before either of them could react or be entirely sure of who made the first move or what they were doing. His arm pulled her impossibly closer but he didn't make any move to deepen the kiss beyond what she had started. Her hand moved to the side of his face, her nails gently moving through the hair at his temple and cupping the back of his head.

A few moments later they broke away, but she didn't move out of his arms. Her heart fluttered in her chest, but she tried to act calmly, no matter how much her head was screaming at her.

"Em... I..."

Her stomach dropped. She was an idiot. "I should call a cab."

His fingers tensed against the muscles of her back. "Nonsense." He urged her to move with him as he slowly made his way across the room. "You're spending the night."