On The Last Night of The Year

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.

. . .

Waking early the next morning, Ashley had been unable to clear her thoughts from the night before. Having had such a restless night, her sleeping moments filled with dreams - correction nightmares, -of what it would be like to meet her father after all these years.

Mooching around the kitchen, Ashley made a coffee and considered the possibility of eating something. The churning in her stomach made her realise that was possibly a bad idea, though this year it wasn't alcohol causing her the problem.

Sitting alone in the lounge, she sipped slowly from the hot mug. Contemplating the promise she had made herself last night, the one that had caused her such a troubled night, the warming liquid doing little to calm her frayed nerves.

Last night she had been adamant that she knew what she wanted, but in the cold light of day, it was a different matter. Ashley still wanted answers, but she did know if she was ready for them.

Steadying herself, she went to stand by the window. Looking out onto the bleak morning, she considered her options once more. She could ignore the promise she had made to herself and do nothing, as she had done for the last seven years. Except sticking her head in the sand was not longer viable. She could pluck up the courage to face him, but even now, safe and secure, Ashley knew she was not strong enough to cross the prison threshold alone. So that left her with one possibility . . .

. . . to find someone to go with her.

Placing the coffee mug down on the first available surface, Ashley looked around frantically for her car keys. Grabbing them off the counter with one hand and her phone in the other, she shot out her apartment.

. . .

The soft crunch of the gravel under her feet as she walked up the drive towards the grand looking house was becoming increasingly annoying. Initially parking at the end of the drive and having a calming walk had seemed a good idea. Ashley realised in her hurry she had gone off half-cocked. Now she wanted the time to collect her thoughts before presenting her case to the one man who may be able to help her.

Wrapping her arms around her lithe body as she trudged along the path, Ashley tried to ward off the cold. In her haste she had left without a decent sweater, let alone a coat, scarf and everything else a sensible person would have put on. The early morning air was as frozen as the ground she trod.

Stepping up to the impressive wooden door, she reached out a shivering hand to bang the hard iron knocker; the cold metal appearing warm in her freezing fingers. Allowing three loud bangs, she stood back and waited.

Her patience growing thin as her sullen mood increased, she motioned to knock again. Only this time she was interrupted by a grumpy looking David Rossi dressed in striped pajamas and a dark blue robe.

Standing in the imposing doorway, one eyebrow raised, David took in the sight before him. Ashley's long blonde hair was pulled sharply back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, her grey sweatpants and white long sleeved t-shirt, nowhere near warm enough for the morning.

"Ashley, this had better be good; I wasn't planning on being up at 7am…hell, I wasn't planning on being up all morning," the slight smirk on his face betraying the fact that he wasn't as annoyed as his tone pretended he was.

Stepping aside to allow Ashley in, a shiver ran down his spin as he realised how cold the day was. Leading her through to the kitchen he flicked on the coffee machine, busying himself with preparing a pot of coffee. Glancing sideways at his visitor, he took in the slightly blue tinge to her lips. Shaking his head as he leant onto the counter that separated them, he made no attempt at hiding the fact he was staring.

Ashley felt uncomfortable under the profiler's gaze. Shifting slightly her mouth dried as she tried to form the words she had been practicing in her head all the way up the driveway.

Dave smirked again. "I am going to get dressed; by the time I get back down here I expect two mugs of coffee and hot buttered toast."

Ashley stared open mouthed.

"That's the cost of waking me up when I have had less than five hours sleep. Take it or leave it babe," he winked.

Ashley nodded blankly, stepping behind the counter top as he left the kitchen. Running her fingers under a tap in the aim to warm them enough to regain some feeling, she sighed deeply. Glancing around the kitchen she made herself a silent promise that next year's resolution would be to not be so impulsive. As the numbness began to wear off in her fingers, she cursed her inability to think things through before she reacted.

Looking up she realised Dave was walking back in, jeans and a dark red shirt replacing his PJs. Throwing a sweatshirt her way, he grumbled: "I don't smell toast."

"My fingers were too cold, I was afraid I would drop something," Ashley made a feeble excuse as she looked blankly at the item of clothing he had so ungraciously passed to her.

"Well put that on, it may help warm you through. What were you trying to do coming out dressed like that – catch your death?"

Ashley complied, without saying another word, before turning to pour them both a mug of coffee from the freshly brewed pot. Passing it to her host she returned to look around for bread and a knife to start making toast.

Dave observed her for a moment or two as she searched his kitchen for the equipment she needed. Watching someone complete such a menial task allowed him chance to judge her mood and frame of mind. Plus he hoped the action would warm her obviously frozen body.

As Ashley attempted to cut the bread, Dave stood beside her.

"Here let me," he said taking the knife from her hand. "Sit down and have your coffee."

Ashley did as she was told, tucking her hands inside the sleeves of FBI issue sweat top, before hugging her coffee mug to her.

"So," Dave glanced up at her, catching her eye, "I assume you are not here to wish me a Happy New Year. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Ashley's lip trembled, all strength draining as she melted into the mug of steaming liquid.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think."

"Well that's something new, you admitting you didn't think!"

The hurt his comment caused, evident in her tired eyes, made Dave regret his abrupt humour.

"Sorry, that was uncalled for," he added.

"No it wasn't; it was honest, and I shouldn't have just turned up on your doorstep like that."

"Look Ash, I am glad that you feel you can turn to me, no matter what it is. I'm flattered, just lacking a little sleep, and by the looks of it I'm not the only one. Bad night?"

Ashley shook her head, sipping her coffee to avoid his eyes as he brought the plate of hot buttered toast over to the granite counter. Sitting beside her, he took a slice.

"Time for you to spill; Ashley, what brings you to my door on a cold and frosty morning?"