A.N.- So, I know I said this would be the last installation of "Sibling Rivalry" literally yesterday, lol, but then I really liked where this update ended. However, this chapter alone is both too short an update and conclusion and, had I ended here, would preclude me from writing the amount of fluff I wanted to. So instead I'm breaking this into 2 short chapters.

-o-o-o-o-o-

As he started to add the chicken back into the sauce on the stove, Aaron asked a question, raising a good point that Rossi didn't foresee. "How are you planning on doing one-on-one with two kids," he smirked, no doubt thinking he'd get out of the dreaded situation. It took only a moment for Rossi to think of the answer, giving his own smirk.

"Family bonding."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Once he had finished with the cacciatore assembly, Dave covered the large pan on the stove, leaving it to simmer. Setting a kitchen timer, he pulled out a bottle of wine and three glasses. Maybe he shouldn't give his troublemakers wine, but it complemented the dish, and Rossi took some amount of pride in his ability to cook. Plus, he needed wine after his day; pouring two glasses and handing one to his protege, he gratefully took his own glass and resisted the urge to down it in one go, figuring he should at least pretend to be a good role model.

The two men companionably chatted for a few minutes, Hotch's earlier attitude seemingly gone, though Dave knew better than to think the younger man was actually fine. Dinner only needed to simmer for another half hour, and if Dave had to guess, he'd say that Aaron's attitude improvement came from the fact that Seaver would be joining them in only a short while. Undoubtedly, he felt the need to be the BAU unit chief, even at home, when someone other than Rossi was present and, while he wanted Hotch to be able to let down his guard around others and relax, part of him was selfishly grateful in that moment that it seemed like he wouldn't have to dole out another spanking that night. Not only was it emotionally taxing for everyone involved, but he'd have to figure out how to occupy one kid if the other got in trouble, and if Ashley got in trouble, that would mean that Rossi had to abandon his one-on-one routine. That would go over poorly with his surrogate son- as much as he knew the younger man detested it, he also needed the consistency that came from Dave following wondered, briefly, if it was better to work out the logistics of only one troublemaker or if it was better to go through the ordeal of dishing out two punishments with easier logistics.

Or, the kids could actually behave. That thought made him grin to himself, kids will be kids, and he had signed up for that. He hadn't regretted it, ever. Yes, he detested having to be the punishing hand in Hotch's- and now Seaver's- life, preferring to spend time with them when they weren't in trouble. Still, he recognized the value in having to step into that role, and the kids were worth any emotional toll. Aaron had come so far in the years Dave had known him, and was now an excellent unit chief to an elite team.

"I'm proud of you," the older profiler said to his protege, chuckling when Aaron ducked his head and fidgeted, even after all these years. "I guess we'll work on that," he said with a small smile, trying to hide any evidence of sadness- he knew that Hotch's tumultuous childhood was the reason why the man was so resistant to accepting praise. As he passed by Aaron on the way to stir the dish on the stove, he ruffled the hair of the younger man who was still resolutely staring at the ground. Dave really wished that Hotch could accept that sort of praise without feeling uncomfortable, because he deserved to hear it far more often. Over a decade later, though, and the younger man still had trouble accepting praise without looking like he wanted to run.

Dave distinctly remembered when Hotch did actually run; the younger man had been in trouble, but before the older profiler sent his protege to 'his' room, he had told Hotch that he was proud of him. It was true- Hotch had found himself in trouble after a case where he related too much to the victims, and his increased empathy spurred him to dangerously approach the unsub alone. He was in trouble for the latter, not the former, Rossi was sure to emphasize; empathy was an incredible tool in their line of work, one that his co-founder of the BAU, Jason Gideon, often employed, declaring it was their 'most effective weapon.' He had told Hotch that he was, in fact, actually proud of him for caring so much before he sent him to his room to await punishment. After a half hour, he was suitably mentally prepared for the unpleasant task of handing out consequences to his wayward underling; he was not mentally prepared to open the door, only to find that the window was open and his protege was nowhere to be found. Fortunately, it hadn't taken him long to find Hotch; the boy had endearingly stayed close to the townhouse that was his then-residency, not wanting to actually run but claiming he needed space.

"What are you smiling at?" Aaron said with a small smile of his own, breaking Rossi from his reverie.

"Oh, just remembering the time you booked it out a window after I told you I was proud of you." Aaron flushed, rubbing the back of his neck, though the small smile stayed on the younger man's face.

"Not my finest moment," he said.

"No," Dave agreed, "but look, I'm still here." When Hotch's blush grew to an even deeper red, Dave knew he needed to back off, lest he cause the younger man to run again- the conversation had quickly become emotional, and Aaron's fidgeting showed his anxiety about it.

Fortunately, he didn't have to think of something else to say to lighten the mood in the room as the kitchen timer signalled that dinner was ready.

"Can you set the table while I wake Ashley up?" he asked Hotch, who nodded and started towards the cabinets where the china was kept. "I'll be back soon," he said, only barely resisting the temptation to add on, 'you better still be here when I come back.' That might actually prompt the unit chief to run; Rossi doubted his protege would, knowing damn well what would happen if he did, but it remained a distinct possibility, especially when combined with his earlier attitude.

Flashing Hotch a smile, which the younger man returned, Dave set off to wake his other miscreant.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Ashley was in the unsub's house, about to be killed. She was sure of it, and she regretted not following orders better. The unsub grabbed her shoulder and she tensed, waiting for the sadist to hurt her somehow. She probably deserved it anyways, having been stupid enough to disobey orders- she was only an Academy cadet, she should never have thought she could go off by herself. Accepting the pain she knew was coming, Seaver was surprised that it never came. Instead, gentle hands lifted her and she unconsciously curled against the other body. Things were getting confusing in her dream; there were too many hands, for starters. The unsub was coming at her, but she could feel gentle hands despite being alone with the serial killer. Plus the pain she kept bracing for continued to never come, and the face of the killer started to fade. The reality that conflicted with her dream-state spurred her to wake from the nightmare, still unfocused, gasping for air.

Still halfway caught between reality and her nightmare, it took her a minute to place the unfamiliar surroundings and remember why she was with Agent Rossi in the first place. She was grateful he hadn't said anything about her nightmare yet, and even more grateful for his warm, soothing presence.

"Sorry," she murmured, once she was fully back in the present. As a child, needing any sort of attention had been met with disdain and dismissive words, and she got good at taking care of herself. When she was sick, when she had a nightmare… She learned how to deal with it so that she didn't have to ask for help. Here she was in the house of a man she greatly respected, and she had been too needy- she would have shaken the nightmare soon enough without his intervention. "Sorry," she repeated emphatically, heart still racing from the adrenaline of the nightmare.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Dave said, simply, and she felt him drop a kiss to the top of her head. It made her feel pleasantly warm inside; as the daughter of a serial killer, and after having dated too many narcissists, her definition of 'safe' rarely included men, but she could feel it come to include Rossi. He was a steady presence, and he hadn't changed since she was a kid- he always showed a lot of care towards her, which was greatly appreciated as her life got turned upside down. Despite her feeling of safety with the agent, she still shrugged in response; she still shouldn't have been so needy, it was unfair to waste the older man's time like that.

"Hey, I'm serious," he said, gently pushing her away just enough so that he could look her in the eye. "We all have nightmares, Ashley, it's impossible to be in our line of work and not," she couldn't fully believe his insistence that it was okay, though; enough of the aforementioned narcissists had ditched her after she had some nightmare about her father for her to be convinced by Dave's words. Heart still pounding, she spoke, needing to make things right despite Agent Rossi's claim that there was nothing to be sorry for.

"I can handle them myself," she mumbled.

"You don't have to, now. You have people who care for you," the thought was nice, she supposed, if it were true. It was so much better to recover from a nightmare curled up close to Rossi than it was to recover from a nightmare alone in her apartment. Still-

"You don't have to waste your time and effort, I've got it under control, thanks." She tried to sound authoritative, but her voice was still trembling.

Dave mumbled something then, but she couldn't hear him. She thought he heard him mention Hotch's name, and he sounded a little sad, but the words weren't intelligible.

"Huh?"

"Nothing," he waved her inquiry off casually, and she didn't want to press. He continued, "It's time for dinner," he said, "c'mon." He helped her stand and it looked like he was trying to repress his fond smile as she rubbed her butt, the movement having reminded her of being spanked, which did still sting.

"I hope you don't play poker."

"What?" he said, sounding confused by her apparent change in subject.

"Your poker face," she said, "it sucks." He laughed then, and slung an arm over her shoulders, leading her out of the room.

"Only with you kids," he said in quiet response, and Ashley didn't know who he meant by kids. It sounded like he was including her, but she wasn't a kid- okay, granted she was younger than the rest of his team, even the kid who talked too much about things no one really cared about. Still, who else was he referring to? The team? Maybe, she certainly could tell how much the veteran profiler cared for the group. Hotch? The answer was a probable yes, given that he had referred to her and the unit chief as "you kids" earlier, as they entered the house. Still, it was hard to imagine anyone calling Hotch a kid. She was pretty sure he was born in a suit, and she rarely caught him smiling- no, he was the epitome of 'boring adult,' and probably did paperwork for fun. Idly, she wondered why her thoughts were so immature, quickly deducing that if she made fun of Hotch in her mind, maybe she wouldn't be so ashamed to have to sit and eat dinner with him. Agent Rossi had said the slate was clean, but did that extend to the unit chief as well?

She didn't actually think that, when Rossi told her he wasn't going to discipline her through official channels, he ever mentioned about the spanking covering her penance for Hotch, and he was the big boss. Suddenly, she balked, digging her heels into the carpeting; Agent Rossi, who was still walking, found that he couldn't move forward anymore, his arm still around the cadet. He turned around, and she winced, expecting the worst. She didn't know why she was so jumpy; she had worked out a lot of her inadequacy issues in therapy long ago, so why were they back with a vengeance? He didn't berate her, though, merely raising an eyebrow in invitation of an explanation.

"Is Hotch gonna fire me?" she asked point blank, and Rossi looked surprised.

"No, kiddo, clean slate, remember? Over and done with."

"With you," she emphasized, "but is Hotch still mad?" A small smile played on the man's lips, and she waited for the explanation. First, though, she found herself drawn into another hug. She was pretty sure she had been hugged more that evening than in the last several months combined; not that she minded it- it was actually really nice- but it was still somewhat surprising.

"No, kiddo," he said, dropping another kiss to the top of her head. Again, she felt a rush of safety and security, and turned her face in closer to his chest, trying to hide. She knew it was childish, and Rossi's responding chuckle suggested he thought so too, but he didn't force her to move. Instead, a large hand moved to her back, rubbing gently as he continued his explanation, his words felt by the cadet hiding in his rumbling chest.

"Hotch is the boss," he said, "If he wanted to pursue disciplining you through official channels, you'd probably be packing up your room at the Academy about now." She winced, tension flooding her body at the reminder. "Shhh," he soothed, rubbing her back, "breathe for me now. In… Out… Good, that's good. You're safe, you aren't fired, you aren't bounced from the academy," he said, and the absolute confidence in his tone made his words easier to believe as she calmed down.

"As I was saying," he continued casually, as if she didn't just have a minor meltdown in some random hallway in his expansive hour, "Hotch is ultimately the one who makes the decisions," he explained, "Even when I disagree with him. So yes, I proposed this alternative to him, but he didn't have to accept it, and he could have easily sent you through official channels instead. He knows the slate is clean." She started to extricate her head from his chest, momentary panic receding- though she still thought it was embarrassing that Hotch knew Dave had disciplined her like that, though she supposed it was a logistical necessity. Plus, his words earlier suggested that he had once been where she was, and that made her feel a little less embarrassed, too.

She walked quietly alongside Agent Rossi through the labyrinth of hallways in his mansion as he led her towards whatever smelled good. Dinner, she supposed, and the aroma became more and more tantalizing as they got closer to the kitchen; she smiled sheepishly at the sound of her stomach grumbling. She had been too nervous she was going to be fired to go out to eat with the rest of the team once they had concluded the case, and was certainly too nervous to even have a protein bar on the jet. Truthfully, she couldn't actually remember the last time she ate, having been caught up in the excitement of the case, then the terror as she found herself alone with the unsub, and then further fear that she was going to be fired. It was probably a while ago, she guessed, and at that realization she suddenly felt pangs of hunger. She also felt slightly lightheaded, but she tried to disguise that as wanting comfort as she leaned into the veteran profiler's arm as they walked to the dining room.

If the concerned look Rossi was giving her now was any indication, he had also realized that she hadn't eaten in a long while, and the unamused look he gave her suggested that he could tell she was a little lightheaded too. It looked like he was about to say something, but fortunately they made it to the dining room before he could say anything about it, and she beelined to the table, trying to ignore the critical eye she knew he had cast on her back. Her dizziness proved to be a small obstacle, but she made it to the table without falling, and that's what mattered.

In her haste to sit down, she had forgotten about the ache in her rear; she didn't expect that it would hurt so much to sit on the hard, wooden chairs in Rossi's dining room until she sat down quickly, then jumped up with a yelp. She shot a concerned look towards Hotch, wishing he hadn't witnessed that, even though she knew that he knew what had transpired between her and the veteran profiler. It was still embarrassing. Hotch, thankfully, knew how to read a room, and was busy pretending that filling a glass with water was the most complex task in the world; more importantly, he didn't call attention to the evidence of her punishment.

Once again she seated herself, albeit more gingerly. It didn't hurt quite as badly as slamming down into the chair, but it still hurt plenty. Barely concealing her wince, she then realized that it would be impossible to sit still- there had to be some position where her bottom didn't hurt sitting down, right? After making sure Hotch was still busy with the pitcher of water, she shifted around somewhat and realized that no, there was not a sitting position that didn't hurt after Rossi's chastisement. She nearly pouted at that realization, resigning herself to the position that put the least pressure on her bottom- well, second best, but she got the sense that kneeling on the dining room chair for dinner wasn't allowed.

Rossi clearing his throat jerked her attention away from her lack of comfortable sitting position, indicating that she should hand him her plate. Hotch had, at the sound, also jerked his head up; once he realized that, he smiled sheepishly and snaked a hand back to rub his neck that was turning a light red. Clearly, he wasn't a stranger to Agent Rossi's mannerisms, though she had known that- she wondered what had him jumpy, though. A moment later, all thoughts of analyzing Hotch's odd behavior were forgotten as a large helping of chicken cacciatore was handed to her, and she dug into the first proper meal she had had in days.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Dave really, really hoped that Ashley hadn't been experiencing her nightmare for a long while- he really should have checked on her while dinner was simmering, but he didn't want to wake her. Besides, he had all but promised Hotch that he had one-on-one to look forward to. He couldn't acquiesce on that, either, as much as Hotch grumbled about it. He knew the younger man detested a lack of independence, but it was the quickest way Dave had found to reassure Aaron that he was not planning on leaving. His protege found that specific consequence particularly difficult to swallow, after having to be independent from a very young age. He knew that Ness's 'kid,' Maddy, felt the same way about it- because yes, they did compare notes like that sometimes, after they were sufficiently drunk.

Once again, he realized he needed to be in two places at the same time. That feeling had only increased as he guided Ashley to the kitchen and was reminded that she hadn't eaten since… Well, he didn't actually know when she last ate. She was too thin, he had realized after picking her up from the bed to hold her as she broke free from the clutches of her nightmare. Dave already hounded Aaron about eating, too- he supposed he would be hosting 'family dinner' much more often than he used to. Though he didn't like the fact that the idea was spurred by his two kids forgetting to take care of themselves, he didn't at all mind the idea of family dinners more often. It got lonely, sometimes, with only Mudgie for company- he much preferred when Hotch or the entire team was around, and the sounds of life filled his house.

As he walked into the dining room, he realized that Aaron had cleverly seated himself already after setting the table, sparing himself the task of trying to conceal his own wince from Seaver. Ashley, however, was not so fortunate and, having never been spanked before, clearly wasn't anticipating sitting to be quite so difficult, if her yelp had anything to say about it. Both kids had kept their heads down, though, resolutely avoiding each other as Ashley shifted a lot in her seat before deciding on the least painful position, and Hotch every so often squirmed to find a different position, though more discreetly than the cadet.

Dave figured he probably shouldn't be so amused at his two miscreants, but watching them both squirm at the table was endearing.

Silence permeated the room as they ate; it had been a long case, and the team had been subsiding primarily on protein bars. Some of the team had gone out for dinner in their free hour before wheels up. Seaver, however, hadn't been allowed out of his or Hotch's sight as they finished the necessary paperwork to close the case with the local law enforcement. Home-cooked, warm food was extremely welcomed by all three agents and, focused on their food, the silence wasn't stifling. However, as the pace of the meal slowed from desperately hungry and ravenous, the presence of silence made itself exceedingly known. After three divorces, it wasn't like Rossi was a stranger to silence, and he knew that Hotch wasn't bothered by it, often finding it relieving.

Dave didn't know that much about Ashley's home life after he arrested her father, though he made a mental note to look into her file later; it was better to find landmines before they blew up, a lesson he had learned the hard way with Hotch. At any rate, she didn't seem to be used to the silence, but she was resolutely not saying anything and instead, her squirming increased.

He wanted to start a conversation to relieve the silence, but instead watched curiously as Aaron excused himself to go get something trivial from the kitchen- he did realize he was going to have to sit back down with the chance that Ashley would notice this time, right? And- as Hotch barely tried to conceal his wince when he sat before giving Seaver a conspiratorial grin- he realized that was his protege's intention all along. Ashley's eyes grew wide, and another small smile from Hotch was all the confirmation she needed. She shot him back a grin too, and Dave nearly groaned as he realized the two were likely to, at some point, raise hell.

How did anyone manage with two kids?

-o-o-o-o-o-

A.N.- A short update, with the next short chapter to conclude this story coming soon. Er, soon-ish, I guess, because I wrote this instead of the paper I was supposed to write.

Is it bad that I'm seriously considering writing Jack and Haley either so that they
a) don't exist
Or
b) Haley is still alive and has primary custody of Jack

The logistics of trying to figure out where Jack could be while Hotch is at Rossi's for an extended period of time are difficult given Hotch's characterization.

I think I'm leaning towards option b, where both are still alive but Jack isn't living with Hotch aside from some weekends and holidays.

All the angst for Hotch with none of the logistics struggle for the writer!

I have a handful of potential stories in this 'verse sketched out, including a WIP with Gideon and Hotch based on 1x08. If I continue this story's plot, aka write the family bonding weekend, it'll be in a separate story from this one.

As always, I love to hear what people think or what they'd like to see, so please review! Until next time…

-lms