Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to my awesome father, happy Father's Day Dad! It's a monster of a chapter, so have fun with that.
I'm trying to make a more focused effort to write what other people like to read (because usually, I have no problem writing what I want to read, but I'm trying to make this about YOU too). If you have any suggestions or scenes you'd like, I'd love to hear it.
I've joined several other authors on facebook (kdzl yi) so friend me to get updates for stories, chat, make requests, etc.
Dave whistled as he walked toward his office, thumbing through a file.
He wasn't sure how it was possible to be in such a good mood after a meeting with Erin Strauss, but somehow he had managed to keep the she-devil herself from stealing the joy inside him.
JJ was at ballet. Aaron was at football.
And he hadn't gotten so much as a text that anything was going wrong.
So far? For his new little family, this constituted a good day.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than he glanced toward his girlfriend's desk to see Emily working feverishly with a small girl in a bright pink tutu sitting beside her.
JJ.
"Don't tell me." He shook his head as he approached the pair. "Ballet is not going to work out."
Emily shook her head quickly, warning him off as she glanced down at JJ, relieved that the child hadn't heard the comment.
He nodded, catching the hint as he gestured toward his office.
Moments later, Emily met him inside. "So ballet?"
Emily rolled her eyes and buried her face in her hands. "I know. I know, it was a bad idea from the start."
"What happened?"
"What didn't happen?" Emily snorted. "She stole someone's fruit snacks."
Dave rolled his eyes, wondering when they'd get past the stealing. "That can't be it. They can't throw her out for that."
"Oh, it's not." Emily chuckled, glad that she and Dave had early on decided to find humor in each failure with the sure knowledge that they would eventually find the perfect fit.
Apparently, that was not ballet.
Or T-ball (much to Dave's disappointment). Or tap dance. Or basketball (again, to Dave's chagrin). Or girls' scouts.
If it wasn't so funny, it would be tragic.
"So are you going to tell me what happened?" Dave prodded.
"After she stole the fruit snacks, some girls were giggling. She thought they were laughing at her, so she pushed them."
"She pushed them?" He cringed, "Did you tell her—"
"It's not okay to push? Yes, we went over it right after I reminded her of the 'no stealing' rule." Emily sighed. "Then she got nervous because she didn't do the moves right, and she wanted to stand in the back but they made her stand in the front because she was shorter than the other girls. And, long story short, she had an accident."
Dave blew out his breath. "Damn. She was upset?"
Emily smiled, marveling not for the first time at how Dave was wrapped around the little girl's finger—not that the seven year old realized it. "She was more upset that she couldn't wear her tutu anymore because it was dirty, so I took her home to get cleaned up," Her cheeks reddened slightly as she admitted, "And I may have bought her a new one."
"Ahh," Dave grinned. "And you make fun of me for being a pushover." He smiled impishly.
She smirked sheepishly. "Well who says you get all the fun?" She shrugged. "So I get to be the one who buys her something that makes her eyes light up for a change."
He smiled smugly. She had been reprimanding him for weeks, reminding him that they couldn't buy the kids' love.
And while it was true—love couldn't be bought—it sure was enjoyable to see even Hotch's normally stoic face crack with pure joy and excitement.
While money didn't buy happiness, it was the best feeling in the world to spend money on children who before this didn't have anything.
Dave's eyes twinkled excitedly. "You know what this means don't you?"
Emily groaned, "Don't say it—" She winced. "It was one time."
"And because you've obviously given up on your 'we can't buy their love' stance, it means I win." He grinned widely.
"Says the man who would buy each of them their own Carnival if I let him." Emily scoffed
"We're getting Hotch a dog." He declared excitedly.
Emily frowned, shaking her head. This debate had gone back and forth with no apparent winner. Dave believed every boy should grow up with a dog. Emily had grown up in a family where everything had been at her disposal, but she never felt that her parents cared for her.
She wasn't going to let that happen to JJ and Hotch.
But seeing JJ's eyes light up at the simple tutu, Emily wouldn't have changed it for the world. "We'll see." She relented.
Dave's grin broadened. This conversation was in no way over, but he was slowly wearing her down.
They were so close to getting a dog.
.oOo.
Dave sighed the next day as he turned off the car in front of the prestigious elementary school. It was Emily's day at the office, and he had just gotten a call that she might be headed to Alabama if the briefing went the way she thought it would. Minutes later, Hotch and JJ's school called asking him to come down.
Please don't let it be bad. He prayed silently as he walked up the empty hallways to the principal's office.
He barely came into view of the Secretary before the other woman's face broke into a relieved smile. "Principal Brown, Mr. Rossi is here."
Damn. He cursed inwardly. He knew it was bad when the principal was already waiting for him and the Secretary was relieved at his presence.
Principal Brown opened her door quickly, smiling easily. "Dave, thank you for coming." She gestured for him to take a seat.
He was surprised to see Hotch—not JJ—sitting in the seat across from the principal, his jaw set defiantly as he stared out the window. Sitting in the seat next to the boy, he frowned. "What seems to be the problem?"
"Aaron?" The principal prodded. "Can you tell Dave what happened?"
"No." Hotch ground out angrily, glaring at Principal Brown.
"Why not?" She asked softly.
"Because it's stupid." The boy remarked.
Dave shot the principal an apologetic smirk. "What happened Hotch?" He asked gently.
The boy shrugged, "I don't know."
Principal Brown sighed, "Aaron refused to take a test today." She explained. "We had a discussion," She glanced over at Hotch and smiled sadly at Dave, "And we thought it was best if we called you down here."
"Why didn't you take the test?" Dave asked, flabbergasted. "We studied for that test. You know that stuff."
"It was stupid. I didn't want to." Hotch muttered. "They can't make me."
Dave rubbed his brow, trying to think of something he could say to make it better. "Aaron—" He sighed awkwardly.
"You can't tell me what to do!" Hotch shouted angrily. "I didn't want to take it and you can't make me."
"Maybe it would be best if Hotch went home for the day." Principal Brown suggested. "Because you're right Aaron, I can't make you do anything." She looked at him squarely. "But I will not allow you to treat me or your teacher this way. It is unacceptable."
"Whatever." Hotch rolled his eyes dismissively.
Dave claimed his hand tightly on Aaron's shoulder, warning him against saying anything else. "Come on Hotch, we need to have a talk."
Despite Dave's attempts, they walked down the halls of the school and into the car with little conversation. Pulling onto the road, he found himself glancing back in the rear-view mirror, opening his mouth slightly before clamping it down tightly again.
What was he supposed to say?
Hotch glowered as he stared out the window, watching the scenery flash by them. "I hate them." He murmured eventually.
Dave frowned, willing the boy to talk about what was really going on. "No you don't. But something's making you mad, what's up?"
Hotch shifted uncomfortably in his seat and shrugged.
Dave wondered if the boy really knew what he was feeling, but wisely remained silent.
"They can't tell me what to do." He spat eventually. "They aren't the boss of me."
"You're right." Dave agreed softly.
Part of him wanted to take Hotch to the pound right now, to get the boy a dog that he could watch over and take care of. Even the worst psychologists could clearly see that Hotch was struggling adapting to a world where he wasn't responsible to provide for his sister.
A dog—any pet really—would at least help make that adjustment easier.
But the chance that Emily would be on a case tonight gave him pause.
If they were going to do this, if they were going to make this big of a commitment to help Hotch work through his issues, he had to make sure he and Emily were on the same page.
"Why don't we go get some ice cream?" He suggested, glancing back at the boy who had turned to look at him with a searching glare. "We can wait for JJ to finish school and then maybe we'll go to the park?" He tried to smile and make the situation seem light, but the boy's indifferent shrug seemed to wipe the smile off his face.
"Whatever." Hotch murmured, turning back to the window.
.oOo.
JJ knocked tentatively on the door in front of her, scared by the nightmare that had just tormented her dreams. "Mr. Dave?" She asked softly.
Dave was up and out of his bed in an instance. "JJ what's wrong?" He flipped on the lights to see the child with tears streaming down her face. "What happened?"
"I had a nigh'mare." She hiccupped, throwing her arms around his legs as she held him desperately.
"Oh, kiddo, it's okay." He soothed, glancing back at the empty bed as he somewhat wished Emily was here to tell him what to do instead of travelling with the team. While she would be home tomorrow, that did nothing to help him deal with the sobbing seven year old. Sighing, he squatted down, rubbing the distraught child on her back soothingly, "It was a dream. That's all over now." He promised.
"I don't want you to throw me away." She cried, clinging to him tighter.
"Oh JJ." He felt tears brimming at his own eyes at the thought. "I would never throw you away." He insisted. "Emily and I love you."
They sat like that for a moment, JJ sobbing lightly against him as she took comfort from his warm strong presence.
"Should we go have some cereal?" He offered once her cries subsided.
He felt her nod against him and pulled away only slightly to look at her. "JJ, we love you." Now checking the child over, and well aware that nightmares usually coincided with her accidents, his eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Did you have an accident?" He asked on seeing that other than her tear-stained cheeks she was completely dry.
JJ shook her head, not understanding the minor accomplishment.
He smiled, picking her up into his arms as he carried her quietly down the hall in an attempt to let Hotch keep sleeping. "Maybe this time you can tell me a story." He teased the little girl in his arms who smiled despite herself.
Hotch frowned as he heard the other two sneak softly past his room, wondering why it made his stomach hurt that JJ asked Dave for help instead of him.
If she didn't need him anymore, fine.
Glancing at his door that was open a small crack, he pulled the covers over him tighter and buried his face against the pillow.
He didn't need anyone anyway.
.oOo.
"This is stupid." Hotch muttered the next evening, folding his arms in an attempt to convey his annoyance as the new family surrounded the breakfast table.
"Hotch, we want to do something fun. Emily just got home." Dave warned, pulling out the pieces to game of SORRY as he began putting the game together. "What color would each of you like to be?"
"Blue!" JJ said instantly, nearly dancing with excitement.
"No!" Hotch shouted, pushing JJ's hand away as she reached for the game pieces. "I want to be blue."
"Now Hotch, JJ said first—" Emily tried to explain diplomatically, only to be interrupted by the nine year old's sudden outburst.
"I want to be blue!" Hotch shouted, enraged. If he were to stop, and try to explain, he couldn't say why JJ not listening to him made his insides tumble.
No, it just made him angry.
"Hey." Dave clamped his hand firmly on Hotch's shoulders, effectively shutting down the outburst. "We don't shout. That's not how we talk to one another." He informed seriously. "Because you are not being nice, JJ gets to be blue. You can be red."
"I hate this game." Hotch muttered, fingering the small tokens in his hands as he softly put them into place.
The game proceeded slowly, Emily and Dave trying to help JJ each time she counted out the spaces while Hotch seemed to grow more and more impatient.
"What's this one?" JJ asked Emily excitedly as she drew the card.
"Sorry." Emily read, "Take a token from START and switch with any player, sending that player's token back to START."
JJ scrunched up her face as she looked at the board carefully. Both Dave and Emily only had tokens in the 'Home' squares or still at Start, while Hotch had two other game pieces still on the board. Picking the one closest to her (and coincidentally closest to Hotch's 'Home' space) she exchanged the tokens and put Hotch's back at his Start position. "Sorry!" She called in a sing-song voice.
Livid, Hotch jumped up from his seat. "That's not fair!" He cried. "I was winning!"
"I think it's getting time to go to bed." Emily surmised, beginning to clean up the game. "We'll call it a tie."
"Wahoo!" JJ danced happily.
"You're so stupid." Hotch turned on his sister, flinging the board up off the table sending all of the pieces up into the air. "You ruined it."
"Hotch—" Dave warned, but the children seemed to pay the adults no mind.
"I was just playing." JJ defended, her voice wavering slightly despite the defiant glint in her eyes. "You're just being mean."
"I hate you!" Hotch shouted at JJ, picking up one of the small game pieces and throwing it at his sister. "You're—"
"That's enough." Dave stood interrupting the child's rant and clamping his hand on the boy's shoulder as he guided the boy out of the room. "Up to your room, now."
"But—that's not fair!" Hotch cried indignantly. "She ruined it!"
"I don't care." Dave insisted, "Now march, young man."
After glancing over at Emily to ensure she could handle the emotional fall-out of the sibling's argument, Dave slowly ascended the stairs and knocked on the little boy's door. "Hotch, can I come in?"
"No." Hotch grumbled.
Dave snorted, kicking himself. "Well too bad, I'm coming in anyway. We need to talk." Taking the boy's silence for acceptance, Dave opened the door slowly and slipped inside. He sat down at the foot of the bed, pretending not to notice how Hotch wiped at his eyes carefully.
"I wasn't crying." The boy sniffed, turning away from his adoptive father.
"I didn't say you were." Rossi held up his hands in surrender. "I just thought you and I needed to have a talk. Man to man."
Hotch sniffed and thankfully, rolled over to face the older man. "JJ was being—"
"Now now, I don't care what JJ was doing. I care about what's going on inside of you." Dave interrupted.
Hotch frowned, not understanding. This felt like every time he had to go talk to Dr. Rivers, except Dave would play basketball with him. Not that Hotch would ever admit that he liked that. "There's nothing going on inside of me." He insisted.
"I think there is." Dave insisted. Sighing, he decided he'd try a different tactic. "Hotch, you and me, we're the men of this house." Dave started conversationally, well aware that if Emily even caught a hint of this conversation she would subject both children to the finer lessons of the feminist movement. "And that means we need to protect our girls."
"Emily an' JJ?" The boy asked curiously, sitting up as the conversation sparked his interest.
"Yeah, Emily and JJ." Dave smiled. "Hotch, you've been the man who takes care of JJ for a long time." He pointed out, "But now, you and me, we've got to work together."
Hotch's frown deepened, "JJ was being dumb." He insisted.
"Sport, part of being a man is watching out for the people you love." Dave explained. "I can't let you talk about JJ like that, because I love her. Just like if someone tried to say something mean about Emily, I would stop them—because I love her." His voice caught as he realized the veracity of the statement.
Hotch fell silent, contemplating Dave's explanation. "I don't like it when people are mean to JJ either." He added softly.
"But I think you hurt her feelings down there." Dave pointed out,"You normally aren't like that. Why did you hurt her feelings?"
"I dunno." Hotch muttered, pulling his knees into his chest.
"But did you do it on purpose?" Dave asked, surprised that argument hadn't already been raised.
Hotch shrugged.
Dave frowned, not sure how much he should push and how much he should let go for a later time. "Hotch, a man doesn't hurt the people he loves on purpose. Ever." He sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. "But sometimes we make mistakes. So when we find out that one of our girls is hurt, we do whatever we can to help them."
Hotch chewed the inside of his lip, contemplating Dave's words. "But what if we're the one that hurt them?" He asked eventually.
"Well Sport, then we apologize." Winking, he dropped his voice and offered the sage advice that had taken him far too long to learn. "And sometimes we apologize even if we don't know what we did wrong."
"I don't want to apologize." Hotch admitted bluntly.
Dave turned the chuckle that erupted out of him into a light cough. He didn't like apologizing either most of the time. But apologizing meant make-up sex. And that was not a conversation he was about to have with the nine-year-old.
"That's part of growing up, Son." He added finally, not realizing the affectionate term that had seeped into his words. Hotch too seemed to engrossed in the conversation to notice. "But I won't push you to apologize until you're ready."