Capping the bottle, I carefully stretched my legs out on the coffee table in my apartment. I flexed my feet, admiring the dark purple paint adorning my toenails. Beside me on the couch was Emily, painting hers black.

"One never truly leaves their goth phase, do they?" I grinned at her.

"Fuck you," Emily said, trying not to laugh.

Not too long ago, Garcia had unearthed Emily's senior high school picture. She looked like she used to perform with the Cure. Oh, how we all laughed.

"It's okay, my darling," I patted her on the shoulder. "Class of '97 right here. You'd best believe I rocked the grunge look in my day."

"Did you wear chokers and flannel shirts?"

"Only, like, every day," I chuckled. "Always hoping that for some reason, Eddie Vedder or Dave Grohl would come to Lexington and take me away."

"It's so funny," Emily said, touching up the big toe on her left foot. "We thought we were so distressed back then. Mom said I can't go out—life is over. Now all we see is death and depravity and sometimes we don't even blink an eye."

I nodded solemnly, thinking about Cassandra. I looked at Emily. She didn't talk about her past that much, so I had no idea if she'd had her own childhood trauma. Most of us did, which played a big part in us coming to the BAU. But I couldn't fault her in keeping mum. As a man I greatly respected once said, we're all entitled to our own secrets.

"I heard Rossi kicked Rothchild's ass today," Emily said, capping the black polish.

"Oh, you mean Henry Grace's ass?" I cocked a brow. "Yeah. Verbally. Even a little physically. It was pretty awesome to see him at work like that."

"I bet," Emily wiggle her eyebrows at me.

I glared at her as I pulled the sleeves of my sweatshirt down over my hands. We were sitting on my couch in our pajamas. Me in a hooded pullover and spandex capris, Emily in a tank-top with a pair of linen shorts. She was going to spend the night in my spare bedroom.

"You guys never give up, do you?" I asked. "You and Morgan, always trying to slander me. This is how rumors get started."

"You can't tell me you wouldn't hook up with him if you had the chance."

The bottom of my stomach fell out and I tried very hard to fake a convincing laugh.

"You're funny, Prentiss. You're very funny," I rolled my eyes.

"We only tease you because you make it so easy," Emily leaned her head against my shoulder. "Don't worry. We know you wouldn't do anything. Besides, even if you did, I'd be the first to know."

I am officially the worst shit-heel on earth, I thought to myself. I felt pressure over my heart. It would've been so easy to just tell her right then and there, to get this off my chest. I was pretty sure that Emily would have kept it secret, but David said we could never be too certain.

"Speaking of rumors," I said as my friend nuzzled into my arm, "we'd better be careful about this snuggling. A little bird told me someone was trying to start a rumor that we're having a lesbian affair."

"You're kidding," Emily laughed.

"I wish I was," I smirked, remembering David's idea.

"Let them think that," Emily said, putting my arm around her. "I personally think Sapphic assumptions are the mark of a great friendship."

I shook my head and snickered.

David Rossi watched as Hunter walked ahead of him in the aisle at the grocery store. They were spending the weekend at his cabin after solving a case in Atlanta where a man was picking up women from clubs with sleazy tricks, disemboweling them, and making them clean up their own mess.

"We should get some apple cider," Hunter muttered, opening up the refrigerator and grabbing a half-gallon of the beverage.

"Whatever you want," David told her as she put it in the basket hooked around her forearm.

"Hot apple cider on a cold fall night is probably one of the best things I've ever experienced," she said, turning her catlike green eyes to look at him.

He loved the nostalgic smile on her beautiful face. David had never enjoyed grocery shopping as much as he did this day, walking around with her in a town where no one knew they were co-workers. Where he could take note of how cute she looked in the maroon sweater without worrying that Hotch would see his wandering eyes.

"Your New England is showing, McCarthy," Hunter mumbled to herself, blushing a little.

"Please," David encouraged. He stepped closer to her to wrap an arm around her waist and place a kiss on her temple. "Show me New England."

"Be cahful what ya wish foh," Hunter said in a very forced accent.

"When's your birthday?" David asked me.

We were on his couch, enjoying the roaring fire. He was sitting with his back to the arm, one knee raised against the back of the couch, one foot on the ground. I was leaning against him with my back to his chest and my legs spread down the length of the couch.

"Not for a while," I shrugged. "It's in Spring."

"So is mine," he said, putting his mug of cider on the small table behind him. "May ninth."

"Ooh, good to know," I smirked, grabbing his hand that was resting along the back of the couch and absentmindedly playing with his fingers.

"That's classified information," David told me in a voice that meant he was barely joking. "I don't want Garcia throwing any surprise parties."

"Duly noted," I replied.

"And you?" David asked, stroking my hair with his free hand.

"I am turning the ripe old age of thirty on April twenty-seventh," I admitted.

I felt David's body stiffen behind me. He stopped touching my hair. I sat up and turned around. He was staring down at his chest.

"You okay?" I asked, tucking my feet underneath me.

"My, uh…my son's birthday is the day before yours," he said quietly.

I felt a pang in my heart. "I didn't know you had any children."

"He would be one day older than you."

"Would?" I repeated gently.

"He didn't make it."

"David, I'm so…" I choked out. "I'm so sorry."

I put my arms around him, feeling his face in the curve of my neck. After a moment, his hands found their way to my back. He pulled me closer to him so that my body moved with his every deep breath. We stayed like that for a while. Then David grabbed my legs and drew them around his waist so that I was straddling him. He sat up on the couch, removing his face from my neck and looking up at me with his watery eyes. It was rare to see him this vulnerable.

"You're sweet, Hunter," he offered me a tight-lipped smile.

"I try," I shrugged, putting one of my hands on his cheek.

"And you're sure…that you want this?" he asked.

"Want what?" I furrowed my brow.

"I'm old enough to be your father. This just confirms it."

"Do you see me running?"

David looked away from me.

"'I want you so badly it hurts', remember?" I kissed his forehead.

"How could I forget?" he closed his eyes and allowed himself to smile. "I just can't stop thinking about how… if James were still alive…maybe I would be your father-in-law."

"Don't think like that," I said, tapping his nose. "No matter what, I'm sure I would still have been thirsting after you like a twelve year-old schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher."

David opened his eyes and sighed.

"No matter what," I continued, "I'm still here. You can think about all the alternate universes where this, that, and the other thing happened or didn't happen all you want. But what you have—what you really have—is me, right here, right now. And I'm not going anywhere."

He stared into my eyes for a long moment, as if expecting me to change my mind and run away, into the arms of a younger man.

"What did I ever do to deserve you, Hunter Lynn McCarthy?" he whispered, craning his neck to kiss me.

"You existed," I told him. I put my other hand on his face and kissed him again. Then I untangled myself from him and stood up, grabbing both of our abandoned mugs. "More hot apple cider?"

David smiled at me. "More hot apple cider."

"I'm going to turn you into a New Englander if it's the last thing I do," I grinned, heading into the kitchen.

What better to do when you have the day off than write a little fluff?

-KTW