Rossi let nearly two weeks pass before invoking The Deal.
He thought the interval would either allow Hotch to get used to the idea, or it would dull the edge of apprehension the man had shown at the very idea of stepping out into a social milieu. Aaron saw it from the opposite end of the spectrum: maybe Dave would forget, or maybe Dave would become involved with someone on his own and devote his free time to her rather than to pushing his best friend out of his comfortable, familiar, lonely nest.
But a Thursday night found the team in a lull as far as casework was concerned. Recognizing the opportunity, Rossi pounced.
He lounged in the doorway of the Unit Chief's office, scanning his sharp suit and manful try at taming cowlicks…and decided the look would work as long as he chose a destination that wasn't on the level of a biker bar.
Hotch felt he was being observed. He glanced up…and was immediately nervous at the mischievous tilt to the older man's lips. "What?"
"It's time, Aaron."
Hotch knew what was being referenced. "But…it's the middle of the week. I thought this was going to be a weekend thing."
Rossi shook his head, lips pressing into a determined line. "By tomorrow a case could come in. You know how this job is: you grab your free time when you can."
"Jack's expecting me to be around this evening." Hotch ducked his head, shuffling papers and mumbling to himself. "It'd be nice to have a little warning…" His head shot up when he heard Dave making a phone call.
Rossi's eyes were riveted on his boss as the connection went through. "Hey, Jack! It's your Uncle Dave. Your Dad's here. Wants to let you know he'll be out this evening." He began to hand his phone off to Hotch, but aborted the movement when the boy began to talk. A satisfied smirk began to appear. "I'm sure that'll be alright, kid. But ask your father. He's right here."
Aaron took the cell, suspicion beginning to surface. "Hey, Buddy…what was that about?" His glare locked on Rossi. "No, that's fine. But…are you sure you don't need me at home? 'Cause I can be there." He ignored Dave's shaking head. "Well…okay then. Be good. Mind your manners, and I'll see you later. Love you…"
Hotch handed the phone back to its rightful owner, regarding said owner out of the side of his eye the entire time. "Well. That was interesting." Rossi pocketed his cell, looking smug. The Unit Chief subjected his best friend to professional profiler scrutiny. "Funny how Jack just happens to have plans with his aunt. He usually doesn't do that. Not on his own."
Dave shrugged, the smirk never leaving his face. "Maybe he's tired of hanging around the apartment with his Dad. All boys need to mix it up every now and then." The last was said with enough stress to let Hotch know it had a double meaning.
"I don't like you running plays behind my back; not when it comes to Jack."
Rossi looked affronted. "I did no such thing, Aaron."
"You talked to him about getting me to go out, didn't you?"
"Absolutely not." The older man's grin was infuriating as Hotch ratcheted his brows down into a glare. "Jessica ran a play behind your back. I hardly did anything at all…" One shoulder lifted and fell, taunting. "…except, you know, set up a code so I could text her when I thought the time was right. She took it from there. I didn't coerce Jack into anything." The grin passed infuriating and attained outrageous. "My job is coercing Jack's father."
Hotch maintained his stoic pose. Rossi relented, adopting a more congenial expression. "C'mon, Aaron. We had a deal. And you have a promise to keep. This is a first step; a good one. Even this little bit reached your son and told him that it's okay to venture outside the box… C'mon."
A deep, long-suffering sigh managed to convey what the Unit Chief thought of the whole setup.
But a deal was a deal…akin to a promise, really.
And although Hotch broke some, he did try to honor as many as he could. No matter how distasteful he found them.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Just try to relax, Aaron. I'm not putting you before a firing squad…Jeeeez…"
Rossi had found an establishment he felt was an appropriate starter's locale. It would ease his shy friend into the idea of going out. It was a baby step. At least, in Dave's estimation.
Hotch, however, was surfing a wave of tension as soon as they stepped through the door of Hot Spot, an upper-crust watering hole that wasn't solely devoted to hook-ups, but where they frequently happened nonetheless.
The Unit Chief had balked when the name, scripted in deep, red neon, had loomed before them. His eyes had widened, but before he could object or question, Rossi's firm hand in the small of his back had pushed Hotch into the tavern. By the time his startled eyes adjusted to the sporadically lit interior, Dave had maneuvered them to a table.
It was centrally situated. Aaron would have preferred something against the wall.
"Sit down, and pay attention to lesson numero uno, my friend." Rossi took his own seat, gazing about with a happy, expectant air wholly at odds with the deer-in-the-headlights look of his companion. "Always select a table that provides visibility, Aaron. But also make sure it's not too close to the bar or any doorways. You want to be able to carry on a conversation without straining to hear or to make yourself heard." He gave Hotch a sage look. "You don't want to find yourself in that hell where you both resort to nodding and smiling without any idea of what the other said."
"Dave, you said we weren't going on the hunt…and I'm not! I thought we were just going to relax and if anything happened, well…we'd wing it, I guess."
The older man heard incipient panic in the younger's voice, and moved nimbly to head it off. "Calm down. I'm just offering advice you might find useful someday…when you're ready…" Rossi had been scanning the clientele since they'd entered out of long habit. "…and maybe someday is today," he finished sotto voce, raising his brows at Hotch and inclining his head slightly to the right.
Aaron had the feeling he'd bought a ticket to a roller coaster when he'd meant to go on the kiddies merry-go-round. Everything was moving much too quickly.
As was the figure wending its way toward them.
He had time for the impression of curves in dark olive, silver stilettos, and lots of jewelry he recognized as moonstones. A giddy corner of his mind thought that he'd have to thank Garcia for having educated him about them.
And then she was there, looking down at him.
"Hi." Her voice was husky.
Rossi smiled a greeting, but waited to see how the baby chick under his wing would respond.
The social/dating/courtship part of Hotch's brain felt fossilized. Say something! A compliment! Start with a compliment! You can't go wrong with a compliment!
He meant to say that her moonstone necklace was nice. But he choked and tripped over his own tongue, just the way he had when he'd first talked to Haley. Just the way he would have if Beth hadn't taken all the initiative away from him and engineered their 'chance' meeting.
"Stone…stoned…nice…" Then Aaron had the good sense to stop.
Rossi stared. Did he just tell her he's stoned? What the…?
The woman in olive and moonstones answered. "Cool. Me, too."
Dave didn't blame Hotch in the least when he bolted, muttering something about the men's room. At least it had been intelligible.
That was progress, he supposed.
