Danger from home
Disclaimer : I don't own Criminal Minds and make no money writing. Thanks for all your reviews, they are alway greatly appreciated, as well as constructive criticism.
Chapter 7: Confessions
Since they had arrived in Philadelphia, it was actually the first time Jennifer Jareau was glad for the glass walls separating the conference room from the bullpen. All day, these walls had made her feel like an animal in cage, as she put up with the glances of curiosity of the local officers while working. But now, she was glad for she could keep an eye on Eric Granger, just like Hotch had asked her. When the question had arisen, JJ had been too surprised to make any comment at her superior for the earlier slip of the tongue. Aaron Hotchner was a diplomat – under normal circumstances, the man would have bit his tongue before saying anything indelicate to the local representative of the police department. But since this whole case started, the head agent seemed under great stress – and burdened by a lack of sleep. Observing as the detective was talking to one of his colleagues in uniform, and scribbling down on his notepad, the blonde stretched and silently prayed that Eric Granger would not mess this one up. In the last hour, the bullpen had considerably emptied, and now only remained the five members of her team and four officers at the most, not including the head detective. JJ quickly stifled a yawn when she saw Rossi and Morgan walk in with yet another cup of coffee – this time, out of the machine.
"Where is everyone?" The younger agent asked, sitting down next to JJ.
"Hotch wanted a word with Emily. Or Emily with Hotch, I am not sure… And Reid went to the bathroom, but I would not be surprised if the poor thing fell asleep on his way there… The couch near the elevators seemed kind of comfy." The blonde agent smirked, rubbing her eyes to indicate that she was in no better shape than her younger colleague.
"This team is going nuts…" Derek muttered to himself, looking for the thousandth time to the board, where all the information on the case was gathered. "Have we finally reached an agreement on the undercover operation?"
"I think that's exactly what the little one-to-one chat is about…" JJ said sarcastically. They all had witnessed the clear disagreement between Hotch and Emily a few minutes before. Although everyone had agreed that an undercover operation would be the most efficient way to trace their unsub, the profilers had been surprised when Hotch had suggested that they brief a local female officer to jump in. They needed a female agent to attract the unsub's attention, and in Hotch's mind, neither JJ nor Emily really fit in the picture of a young drug addict. The chief unit had clearly ignored the raised eyebrows of Rossi and Emily, when he had shared his reasoning. Maybe he was right about the fact that JJ would not fit into the junky world. But Emily, with her pale skin, dark look and acting skills, would have had no problem getting into the role of a young business woman with drug problems. So, when Eric Granger had left the room to go through his personnel files and find the perfect match for this mission, Emily had asked to talk to Hotch.
"If they are not back in ten minutes, I'll go in with my gun and some back-up." Derek stated matter-of-factly, having picked up the tension between the two agents. Maybe they were indeed killing each other as they spoke.
xxx
Emily was pacing back and forth under the scrutiny of her chief unit. She was fuming of rage – but Emily Prentiss was too clever to let out her pure anger at Aaron Hotchner. And she knew that part of this rage was not directed directly at him, but only the by-product of her earlier encounter with Dean.
"Are you going to actually yell at me, Prentiss, or just make me go crazy by your pacing around?" He asked with a cold voice. As soon as he had used her surname, Emily knew that she would have a hard time to convince him. She stopped and looked him straight in the eyes, trying not to flinch despite the burning sensation in her left eye.
"I can do this, and you know it."
"I just think you are not the best person to take up this role." He said without a hesitation, which made Emily think that he had prepared to this fight.
"Bullshit." She muttered, holding his gaze. She knew he wouldn't hold her harsh words against her, because he was the one making it personal.
"No offense… but you're a bit old to play the student."
Emily paused and smirked sarcastically. It would indeed be difficult to convince him.
"You know damn well that this isn't about age. This is about social status. And I'm not that old…" She felt obliged to add, faking to be hurt by his insinuation. Emily was satisfied when Hotch's lips moved to almost form a smile. Using the soft method would probably be the best idea.
"Hotch, I can handle myself, you know."
"I know that, and this has nothing…" Hotch began justifying but he was cut in the middle of his sentence as Emily raised a finger. It was a gross lie and she knew it.
"Hotch, under normal circumstances, never would you hesitate to put me on the frontline. You know I'm the best for that mission. I know the profile better than any local will ever do, I fit in the picture – okay, with a few more years but I really doubt the man will not leap at the opportunity if I fit all the other criteria – and I can defend myself." She paused but went on, when she saw that she would apparently get no answer yet. "You have no right to take what happened with Dean as an excuse to take me off the field. If it wasn't for my idiotic neighbor calling you and this prick showing up unexpected here, you wouldn't even know about the whole story."
When she was finished, Emily inhaled a long and calming breath. Getting things off her chest seemed the only way to let out some pressure – punching in a wall would probably be much more satisfying at her level of enragement, but it wouldn't help her physical shape to add a broken wrist to her battered face.
Hotch reflected for a moment before answering. It was pretty obvious not only to Hotch but to the whole team that his decision had been dictated by a personal concern, so he couldn't really give her any more of this 'bullshit', as she had nicely put it. So he decided to go for the honest answer.
"I honestly think that you are emotionally fragile for the time being – and it would be irresponsible of my side to put you in harm's way when I think you are not in your best state." His voice was soft so as to avoid another fight. But, knowing Emily Prentiss' character, this was utopian.
"Emotionally fragile? You must be kidding me." She hissed. "I am not the one putting my little personal problems over the case as a priority. Which makes me want to ask: why are you?"
Hotch was a little taken aback as Emily's voice turned from pissed into something softer, filled with concern. She had been aware of Hotch's sudden protectiveness, and had not yet put the finger on the exact reason of this attitude. Of course, he had always been a very concerned and responsible chief unit, and all his coworkers were aware of the fact that he would take a bullet for any of them. And yet, the way he was protecting Emily Prentiss and letting her situation get to his own nerves was new.
Hotch looked strangely at the brunette, as though he was looking for an appropriate answer on her face. It was out of the question for him to tell her about his mother, he quickly decided.
"You know very well that I can put my problems aside for the case's sake. This guy might already be hunting down another girl…" Emily said as it was clear that Hotch would not give her any answer. The last sentence seemed to work, as the dark-haired agent's eyes softened, and he pursed his lips in recognition.
"Okay. I am still not sure about…"
"Do you trust me?" A few months back, Emily would probably have turned her question into a statement about his lack of trust. But with the growing friendship and all they had gone through as a team, it would now be an insult to imply that.
"Of course." He would have added 'with my life' but stopped himself just in time.
"Then you know I will focus and do my best. Besides…" she had wanted to avoid this argument, but now she felt that it was necessary to settle the matter and finish to convince Hotch. "… I very well remember a certain chief unit throwing himself into work to forget about Foyet. So don't judge or patronize me."
Unable to hold his gaze any longer, Emily simply walked away and back into the bullpen. She didn't quite know when this conversation had drifted from a merciless fight to yet another confession. Maybe she was becoming too close to Aaron Hotchner, she thought to herself, realizing that she had lost her ability to simply yell at him without any remorse. Over the last months, he had apparently become more than a cranky boss to her – he had become a friend whose opinion she cared for and whose disappointment she dreaded.
xxx
"Do we need to call an ambulance?"
Emily sent a deadly gaze in Derek's direction when he threw the joke at her. Although her level of anger had clearly dropped in the last minutes, she wasn't ready yet to fool around. Her colleague pursed his lips in apology and buried his face behind his mug of coffee, while Rossi and JJ exchanged strange looks.
"So, what now?" Rossi asked, looking at the brunette. Her whole body language was screaming 'leave me alone', but he simply couldn't help pushing.
"Now, we call it a night and get some sleep." Hotch's dark voice echoed through the room as he walked through the door. "Where's Reid?"
JJ looked through the bullpen, then at her watch, frowning. "I'm going to get him." When she left the conference room and was out of sight, she closed her eyes tiredly and sighed, glad that Hotch still had some pity for his teammembers. It was almost midnight now, and they had been on their feet since six that morning, not counting the rare hours of sleep that had punctuated the previous week. She needed some vacation – soon. The blonde smiled when she turned a corner and discovered Spencer Reid, seated on the comfortable couch and his head falling miserably forwards.
Back in the conference room, Derek Morgan and Aaron Hotchner were beginning to gather the files. The chief unit would probably bring some of them into his hotel room, as he usually did when they were out on a work trip.
"I am going to send Prentiss on the undercover mission. I already talked to Detective Granger."
Derek looked Rossi's way. He had figured as much when he had seen the interaction between Hotch and the head detective.
"It's a good decision." Derek bit his lip when Hotch raised a surprised glance in his direction. The man obviously wasn't looking for an approval – he was just informing them of his decision. Nevertheless, Derek Morgan had felt the urge to tell him his mind.
"When are you planning to send her in?" Rossi asked from his corner of the room.
"Since it's already late, we will have to wait tomorrow evening and hope that the unsub hasn't found another victim yet…" Hotch answered absently. He flinched when Emily walked through the door, her coat and cell phone in hand.
"Reid looks like he is going to faint." She said lightly, having just teased her younger colleague about his poor state. "If that's okay with you, I'll take the first SUV and bring him and JJ back to the hotel. What do you say to some pizza in the hotel lobby? I think everyone is really too tired to go have a proper meal in a restaurant."
The three men looked up, their stomachs suddenly growling. They hadn't realized that they were hungry until Emily spoke about eating.
"Sounds good." Derek was the first to answer. "I'm starving."
"Yeah, well we'll be on our way then." She smiled sympathetically before leaving the room, soon pursued by Derek and his special demands concerning the toppings of the pizza.
xxx
Spencer stretched his legs under the coffee table, around which the six members of the team had crammed. The hotel they had booked rooms in had no real living area, other than a couch, a couple of chairs and a tiny table, which was now buried under different varieties of pizza. Reid, JJ and Rossi had managed to get enough space on the couch for the three of them, while Hotch was seated on the armchair. Emily and Derek had gone for the lonely chairs at each end of the table. Although it was almost one in the morning, no one had wanted to go to bed without settling their stomach first.
"God, that smells so good…" As soon as Derek had entered the hotel lobby, closely followed by Rossi and Hotch, he had set an eager look on the pizza boxes. After all, they had fed on coffee and occasional granola bars during the whole day.
Now that half the pizza boxes were empty and everyone's stomach had been calmed down a little, they could get their attention away from the food and into a light conversation again.
"Reid, you should go to bed before any of us has to carry you upstairs…" Derek joked, patting his younger friend's shoulder as he stirred, opening tired eyes.
"Nah, I'm fine…"
"Sure you are." Derek smirked and gave an understanding glance to the round. "So what are your plans for the week-end?"
Although the current case was far from being wrapped up and it was already Thursday, the profilers could still hope they would have a proper week-end. Over the years, they had found out that the best remedy to not break down because of their crazy work hours was to look forward to their next leisure time, whenever it might come. So they would now regularly talk about holidays, week-ends and other evening plans. It helped them keep their sanity, although half of the mentioned plans would eventually be cancelled because of another case – or paperwork.
"I'm looking forward to finally spend some time with my son…" JJ was the first to answer.
"I hope you will. The little guy needs some mother-time, eh? What about you, Rossi?"
Rossi gave out a smirk before answering.
"Besides sleep? An old friend of mine, from the Marine, will be in town, so hopefully…"
Derek burst out in laughter when he spotted Hotch's eyes widen. Everyone knew what was coming.
"… hit the bars? Oh, Christ." The younger agent finished the sentence for Rossi, his eyes still set on Hotch. "Hotch, you seem to know what he's talking about…"
"Oh, too well." The head agent said, letting out a sigh. "Never again am I letting you drag me into your evening rounds, Dave. And I would strongly advise all of you to refuse coming along if this man ever asks you…"
Emily and JJ couldn't help laughing too at the seriousness of Hotch's words and the look of surprise and fake hurt on David Rossi's face.
"I don't know what you mean…" He raised innocent eyes towards the women of the group, not wanting to give up his gentlemanlike reputation.
"Trust me Hotch, I damn well know what you mean…" Emily said, to everyone's surprise. Hotch raised an eyebrow – when and why had Emily Prentiss gone to hit the bars with the infamous David Rossi? When she sensed everyone's eyes on her, the brunette raised both her hands in defense.
"Long and depressing case… I am never doing this again."
The truth was, it had been right after Matthew's case. She had needed someone to confide in, and since Rossi already knew about the abortion, she had agreed to talk some more over a beer. Little had she known that she would end up crawling up her bedroom stairs at five in the morning.
"I had a headache for three days." Hotch said, sipping at his bottle of beer absently. They were off-duty tonight, which meant they could enjoy a little alcohol if they so wished – it would only help them sleep better.
Emily looked at her superior, trying to lock with his gaze without success.
"I woke up on my car when a garbage man shook me, thinking I was dead." She muttered to herself, ignoring the look of shock which was displaying ever more clearly on Rossi's face. He could not believe she would share such disclosed information with the rest of the team. He wanted to crawl under the ground.
"Wait, on your car?" Derek asked, his eyes wide and a smirk already forming on his lips.
"He left you there?" Hotch's face was much more serious, and he was now throwing flames at his older friend, who raised his hands in defeat, as attention shifted back to him.
"She left me sitting on the floor of the bar with the drunken barmaid. Though I must say…"
"Okay, next story!" Hotch called out, not really wanting to hear about yet another trophy of David Rossi. Emily burst out in laughter, although her eyes soon regained their sad and serious sparkle. She would probably need another one of these black-outs when this case was over, to forget about the last days on and off-duty.
"Well, I guess it's a little late for any more ghost stories anyway…" Rossi said, sitting up and clapping his hands. "I'll leave you to it."
"In fact, I think it would be good for everyone to get a few hours' sleep. We'll be up soon enough tomorrow." Hotch added, looking at his different agents. He had already witnessed Reid's eyes close again not two minutes ago, and JJ didn't look much more awake, given the outrageous number of yawns she had tried to hide in the last half hour.
In agreement, Emily and Derek began gathering the different pizza boxes and empty bottles of beer. Hotch shed her one last glance before saying goodnight and heading to his own room. As Emily started to walk out to the exterior bin, her hands loaded with the garbage they had left, Derek leapt at the opportunity and followed her with the rest of the empty boxes.
"I've been wanting to talk to you all day…" He began, when he was sure to be out of earshot of his colleagues. He didn't want to run around the bush, so he asked bluntly:
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Emily stared at him – it would be a lie to say she hadn't been expecting this. Morgan and herself had always been very close, and she would often confide into him. However, she was glad Hotch had taken over this time. Dean would probably already lie in a hospital bed if Derek had been informed earlier, or had witnessed the last encounter. Derek Morgan could be a bully sometimes.
"Not really, Morgan." She simply said, pursing her lips.
"Okay, but I need you to talk about it. What the hell is going on?" Derek could have kicked himself for using this angry tone, but he couldn't help the frustration washing over him. Since when had she taken away her trust in him?
"Derek, this is personal." She snapped, not liking when she was pushed around. She had been so enough in the last days.
"Right, that's why Hotch seems to know every detail of it…" he said suspiciously.
Emily paused and let out a sigh. Derek Morgan was a friend and had reasonably a right to know what was bothering her so much.
"Okay, but I trust that this will stay between us… And I don't want your help or anything." By that, she obviously meant that she didn't want Derek to go and kill the man on her behalf. She was a big girl and could shoot him herself if she so wished. "I was going out with this guy for a couple of months. Nothing very serious, but still… His name is Dean. Two days ago, we had kind of a fight and he hit me." When saw Derek flinch and about to speak, she raised a finger to bring him to silence. She wouldn't go over this more than once. "My neighbor thought she would do me a favor and called Hotch. Anyway, long story short, I kicked Dean out and told him it was over, and he doesn't accept that."
Derek's face fall at her confession. His guess about an abusive boyfriend hadn't been so wrong then, and he could now very well understand why Aaron Hotchner was so mad about the whole situation.
"Has he been harassing you?"
Emily cleared her throat, knowing that Derek's anger would probably grow with every more detail she disclosed. But she needed to come clear with him if she didn't want yet another one of her coworkers watching her like a doll about to break.
"He was here earlier, actually. Hotch almost got in a fight with him."
"He what?" Despite the circumstances, Emily could suddenly see a spark of amusement in Morgan's eyes, as he pictured the head agent going fist first at the ex.
"It didn't come to that, of course. Hotch is too intelligent to give in to provocation."
Derek brushed a hand over his neck, trying to loosen the knot of worry that had built up in the last two days – or past years, he was not sure.
"So what are you going to do?" He had a feeling that this man was not just another abusive man. Following his ex from DC to Philadelphia was more a thing for a stalker.
"Focus on the job I have to do and deal with that when we come back…" She stated honestly, although the way she avoided Derek's gaze told him that there was more to the story.
"Is there something you're not telling me?" Following his instinct, he asked without much tact. Emily seemed to hesitate, but she had already gone too far into her confession to actually care about supplement details being revealed.
"I've had a couple of nightmares. I know that's perfectly normal…"
"It is." He cut her, locking with her gaze to assure her of his support.
"It's just… I've always been so good at compartmentalizing." With that, she meant of course that nightmares were a rare thing. What she saw on the job did not burden her subconscious unless it hit particularly close to home. Like it had with Matthew. Or with Foyet.
"Welcome into our world, then."
She tried to smirk at the comment but only made it a faint and unconvincing smile.
"I'd prefer you didn't tell Hotch. I'm pretty sure he might just change his mind about the undercover operation if he knew that I haven't a baby sleep…" She exaggerated the last words in a vain attempt to make Derek laugh.
"I do agree with the boss man on this one. You shouldn't be too much exposed under these circumstances…"
"Under what circumstances?" She spat, clearly frustrated. "Did I shy away after the Cyrus episode? Or after my encounter with Schrader?"
"Just because you are too stubborn to step back doesn't mean that it is actually a reasonable decision." He said seriously. In fact, Emily hadn't seen Derek so serious in a long time. Both hands crossed in front of his chest, he was looking down at her with soft eyes and a clear look of worry.
"Right… Anyway, I convinced Hotch, so you don't really have a word there."
"Did you flutter your eyes at him or threaten him with your gun?" He said with a half smile appearing on his face.
"Do you really think Aaron Hotchner would have given in to either?" she said with a smirk, already walking away through the door, to the upstairs rooms. When she was out of earshot, Derek smiled to himself and muttered to himself:
"Oh yeah, I think he would have given in all the way…"
xxx
Now, big boy, what are you going to do?
The boy, trying as hard as he could not to wet himself out of pure terror, looked up to meet the big man's eyes. He didn't like the way his father was leaning over him. It was threatening and scary. He would likely have just run away and into the closet, but then the big man would probably have laughed at his cowardice and come after him. So he just stood there, holding his dark gaze and silently praying for him to calm down on his own. But his mother stirred, and that was again enough to send him over the edge. Lowering to the ground level, where she lay, the big man forgot about his son as he helped his wife to stand up. It was not an act of pity – he simply wanted to show her that he had the power in the house. He could decide whether she was to stand or lie lifeless on the kitchen tiles.
Hotch's eyes shot open, meeting only darkness. Mistaking the obscurity of the motel room for the darkness in the closet of his child bedroom, the man panicked during a few seconds, until his hand found the gun on the drawer. Wiping the sweat of fright from his face, Aaron sat up and shifted his legs out of bed, realizing that they were still shaking from the dream when they unsteadily came into contact with the ground. He turned on the light and looked at his hands for a moment, waiting for his breathing to steady before doing any more move. A single look at his cell phone told him that it was not yet three in the morning, but he doubted to be able to find sleep again tonight.
The cold air of the night hit his body at the moment he opened the door of his room. Hotch breathed in deeply, taking two steps out in the corridor. Like most road-side motels in the US, the corridor connecting the rooms was a balcony looking over the parking lot.
"Are you trying to scare the shit out of me?"
Hotch almost jumped in surprise when he turned to face David Rossi's gun.
"Waw, Dave! Are you mad?" Trying to keep his voice low for the others' sake, he gestured to his friend to lower the gun from his upper chest, and let out a sigh of relief when the elderly agent dug the weapon in the back of his trousers. Why was he still dressed anyway?
"You tell me that, I heard shouting coming from your room... Did you fight off a ghost or what?"
Hotch sighed again, turning away from his friend involuntarily, to avoid his penetrating gaze.
"What's the matter?" Rossi asked again, seeing the uneasiness on Hotch's face.
"I had a nightmare, that's all. Sorry for waking you." This sounded like a 'good night', though neither walked away. Hotch simply stayed near the handrail, glancing over the sea of cars parked in front of the motel. Among them were their two SUVs, looking like giants among the normal-sized cars.
"A nightmare?" Rossi raised an eyebrow at his friend, joining him in his observation of the obscure parking lot. "About what?"
"I don't really want to talk about it, Dave." Hotch said annoyed. He turned a questioning gaze when Rossi let out a sarcastic laugh.
"Well, that's a pity, Agent Hotchner, because you just woke me up at three in the morning, and I couldn't really find any sleep after the fright you gave me."
Hotch didn't say anything. His throat was still dry from the nightmare. He had never actually shouted or even spoken in his sleep before. Maybe the nightmares were just coming out stronger now.
"How about coffee?"
"There's no coffee shop around, Dave."
The elderly man huffed. What was this town without a 24/7 coffee shop around every corner?
"Then I have a very nice and warm drink in my mini bar, if you want to join me…"
Finally giving in to his harassing, Hotch turned towards him.
"Alright, I'll talk, but no more threatening about alcohol. I don't trust you with this." He failed to hide a smirk at his friend's permanent good humor, even in the middle of the night. He sheepishly followed David Rossi in his room, sitting down in the only chair rather than the bed itself. It felt too personal, and although Rossi was a friend, Hotch had to find a way to distance himself.
"So, what was that nightmare about?"
"My mother." Rossi looked helplessly at Hotch without saying a word, obviously waiting for an elaboration. "I thought I had already told you about this." Rossi couldn't quite be sure whether it was a statement or a question, but he answered anyway:
"Aaron, I can count the confessions you made me on a single hand… You are a very private person, you know."
"Thanks for the news… Anyway, if you would maybe not interrupt me…"
Rossi raised his hands in defeat and patiently waited for his friend to go through the story.
"My father had a drinking problem. And when he had a few too many, he would take out his anger on my mother… and me."
Rossi's eyes widened with surprise. He would never have thought Aaron Hotchner was an abused child.
"I didn't really get the full extent of the situation. I was quite little at the time, my father died when I was twelve. And I must say that, in the last years, he had been quite weakened by his sickness, so he wasn't so violent anymore…"
"I didn't have a clue, Aaron. I'm sorry."
"Don't be, it was a long time ago."
Rossi searched for an answer on Hotch's face. A question was burning his lips but he didn't quite know how to put it. Joining his hands and taking a serious face, he searched for Hotch's eyes without success. This was a typical defense of Aaron, to avoid eye contact.
"Why do they come back now then?"
"Emily." He simply said. He did not have to look up to feel Rossi's eyes all over him.
"What?"
"When I saw what he had done to Emily's face, it reminded me too much of that time…"
"Oh."
An awkward silence fell between the two friends. Rossi didn't really know what to say to relieve the pressure on Aaron's shoulders, and the latter was apparently done with his confession. He would never go over the details of his nightmares with anyone – that, he would keep to himself. When the silence became unbearable, Rossi finally opened his mouth.
"She is not your mother, Aaron. For one, she is not married to this prick. Secondly, she knows how to defend herself."
"I know that." Hotch said, putting extra stress on each word to convince Rossi.
"Then why did you want to take her out of the field?"
Hotch flinched. He had not seen this question coming.
"We will all have an eye on her, Aaron. But it's unfair to make her pay for your own fears."
"I don't think I am that unfair to her. You make it sound like a put a lot of pressure on her." Hotch's eyes narrowed as he looked up to his colleague, who only smirked in return.
"Well, JJ told me how you ran after her earlier when she had this visit. And I picked up the tension between you two in the conference room, when it came to the undercover operation."
"Alright, I'll give you that." Hotch tried to interrupt, but from the look on Rossi's face, he was not quite finished yet.
"And I can almost hear you harass her with questions, while you certainly don't tell her about your nightmares…"
"That's personal." Hotch answered a little too automatically.
"And her relation with her boyfriend – or whatever he is – is not?"
The younger agent froze, realizing that Rossi was right, as usual. The elderly man had always had a very good instinct when it came to relationship issues. Hotch could still not understand how he had gotten divorced three times despite his clear understanding of the human mind and heart.
"So what are you suggesting, in clear?" Hotch let out a short breath, a sign for his embarrassment and frustration.
"If Emily knew about your history, she might understand better why you take it personal – and let you help." The last part finished to convince Hotch, who began to nod absently, until Rossi finally patted him on the shoulder.
"Agent Rossi, I hope this little late night visit stays between us?" Hotch hesitated between his bossy look and a pleading voice, which resulted in quite a strange demand and brought Rossi to smile sympathetically.
"Yes, boss. Now get the hell out of my room so that I can at least pretend to sleep for a couple of hours…"
