A/N: New episode tonight (tomorrow morning for me, really)! :) I feel like I've been waiting for ages.
Anyway, another chapter with more of Rossi's mother. Enjoy! :)
Hotch wondered if this was what family was supposed to be like.
Leroy was stretched out on the kitchen sofa, one arm thrown over his eyes; possibly trying to stave off a headache. Hotch had a feeling he regretted his exuberance last night. Jo was leafing through a magazine and Gideon was looking out the window with a thoughtful frown.
However, what fascinated, and baffled, Hotch was Rossi and his mother. Not as much because he'd had no idea that you could actually argue about the right way to make tomato sauce as because he had no idea you could argue that heatedly without someone resorting to violence. Rossi was gesturing wildly, looking as if he was trying to appeal to a higher power, and Mrs. Rossi was speaking in rapid Italian, gesturing with the wooden spoon in her hand.
"Mamma, all I'm saying is that thyme adds to the flavor! Just try it!"
Mrs. Rossi said something in Italian, shaking the spoon at her son and putting her other hand on her hip. Rossi rolled his eyes and replied, this time he too speaking in Italian, but before he'd finished his mother broke him off.
"Basta! I am your mother!" the small woman said firmly, "I know what's best."
"That makes absolutely no sense," Rossi said. Whined, really. "Alex, give me some support here."
Leroy groaned and waved a hand dismissively. "Shut up," he grunted and then added, after a moment, "Sorry, Mrs. Rossi."
Hotch couldn't quite suppress his smile. Trust Rossi's mother to elicit an apology from Leroy without even asking for it.
"Jason?" Rossi demanded, giving his colleague a look. Gideon only smiled and shook his head, apparently deciding that it was better not to get involved. Hotch suspected that it was a wise decision.
"Jo?"
Jo just snorted, not even looking up from her magazine, and as Hotch had dreaded that meant it was his turn to offer an opinion.
It wasn't that Hotch thought that this was anything like the arguments when he was a child. Yelling at each other in the Rossi family didn't end in blows and tears, but it was still a bit uncomfortable to see people he cared about raise their voices to each other.
"Hotch?"
"I'm sure both ways have their merits," Hotch mumbled, not looking at either of them.
"Damn lawyer talk," Rossi muttered, crossing his arms. "Ow!"
Rossi gave the small yelp as his mother smacked his arm. "Davide Rossi!"
Apparently, Rossi decided that the argument was a lost cause at that point; throwing up his arms a final time before taking a seat at the table, in Hotch's opinion looking suspiciously much like he was sulking.
"Would it have killed you to give me some backing?" he grumbled to Hotch, who ducked his head to hide a smile. If arguments ended like this he supposed had no problem getting involved in them.
"She's your mother, Dave," he said teasingly, "I'm sure she's right."
Rossi gave him a skeptical look, raising an eyebrow. "Suck-up," he muttered, "Ow!"
He yelped louder as his mother smacked him again, this time on the back of his head. As Rossi turned to glare at his mother, without any real heat, she moved on to Hotch and bent down to press a kiss to his cheek.
"You are a good boy, Aaron," she said and Hotch couldn't quite help the touch of heat that rose in his cheeks. Mostly because of the sense of pride and pleasure that rose in him at that. "You must visit me more often."
"Yes, Mrs. Rossi," Hotch agreed quietly, a bit wary of making the promise since Rossi's standard greeting of his mother seemed to include being scolded for taking too long between visits. Then again, Hotch had no idea how to refuse the woman; even Gideon, who normally seemed blissfully ignorant of any rule he didn't care for, did as Mrs. Rossi said.
"Davey!" the woman then ordered, her voice now curt and Rossi obediently looked up, "Set the table!"
The profiler rolled his eyes, but got up to obey and though Hotch couldn't really make a skilled judgment, he thought the sauce tasted wonderful despite the lack of thyme.
