A good man isn't determined by what is in his pockets, but by what is in his heart. – SunnyInOregon Fanfiction

Chapter 1 – Coming Home

Washington, D.C.

Dave leans back in his chair, drink in hand, and contemplates his companion. In the distant past, he and Jason Gideon had spent many hours together eating meals and discussing things they couldn't talk about with other people. It was a surprise when Jason called inviting him to dinner. They spent most of the meal rehashing old cases and living in past glories, but he knew something was on his friend's mind.

"Do you still have the nightmares," Jason asks as he finishes scraping up the last bits from his plate.

"Nightmares?" Dave frowns.

Jason glances up moving only his eyes. "The last few cases we had seemed hard on you. I could hear you thrashing around on your bed. And I knew you were alone."

Dave takes a sip from his glass as he thinks back ten years. "It's been a while," he answers finally.

Jason grunts as he pushes his plate away and picks up his glass. "Do you ever think about coming back to the BAU? Finishing what you left?"

Dave leans forward in his seat and sets his glass down. "What are you really asking?"

Jason takes his time drinking from his glass, eyes locked on Dave. He finishes his drink and sets the glass on the table. "I'm leaving. I sent my resignation in before I called you. I thought…"

He looks away for a moment, before looking back and giving Dave that half-smile he was famous for. The smile that says, 'I know something about you that you don't know, I know'. Dave hates that smile.

"I know there were cases that we never finished - cases unresolved. I know you hate leaving things open like that."

Dave sits back again. "So?"

"So… I'm just saying if you want to come back – there's space for you," the other man says.

Dave continues to watch his friend. "What makes you think I'd want to come back?"

Jason chuckles. "Because you hate having unfinished business. Listen, do it or don't do it, I don't care."

Silently Dave waits.

Jason pauses and stares over Dave's shoulder for a moment. "It was good. For a long time, it was good and now it's not anymore. I don't blame you if you don't go back. A lot has changed. Different people, different procedures. A lot of red tape and hoops to jump through… just think about it, will you?"

Dave thinks about it now and he's torn. He loves the life he has, but he does miss the life he left behind.

At the hotel, late that night

Dave thrashes on the bed. Tossing and turning until the bedcovers slip onto the floor. He moans and flips onto his back. His eyes fly open as he takes a deep gasp of air and sits upright on the bed. He sucks breath after breath as he looks around the room in confusion. After a minute, his breathing slows. He sinks back on the pillow and wipes at the cold sweat on his brow.

"Porca miseria," he swears. He gets up from the bed and stumbles over the bedcovers on his way to the bathroom. "Thanks, Jason."

He turns on the icy water and splashes his face then blindly grabs a towel. It's then that he notices his pajamas are soaking wet. Stripping out of them, he gets in the shower without turning on the lights and turns on the water, letting it cascade on his head, neck, and shoulders.

He closes his eyes and leans back. "Fuck," he yells as the images of the nightmare which woke him flash through his mind. He groans and rubs his hands roughly over his face. Opening his eyes to the darkness, he grabs a washcloth and the soap.

He quickly cleans up and turns off the water before grabbing a towel and drying off. He pads out of the bathroom, grabbing his dirty clothes on the way. In the other room, he flips on the light and begins to dress as he notes the time on the clock, two-fifty am.

His flight is in four hours but there was no way he was going back to sleep, might as well pack, eat and head to the airport.

Norfolk International Airport

Dave sits back in his seat in the first-class section of the plane and does his best to ignore the two twenty-something females across the aisle. For the past hour, they had been giving him furtive looks and whispering to each other.

He always attracted female attention but after several best-selling books with numerous tv appearances his face was becoming more well-known. Outwardly he appeared nonchalant while inwardly he relished the attention. Women were a fascination to him, always had been and always would be.

When he was thirteen, playing on the basketball team, a pair of girls in the stands caught his eye. He smiled and waved causing them to giggle and wave back. After the game, one of the girls left with her brother and the other girl, Frannie Epstein, let him walk her home. When they arrived at her house, she kissed him on the mouth and ran into the house. Dave strode home with a goofy grin on his face and a bounce in his step.

He glances over the aisle and smiles as he catches the girls looking again. They duck their heads and giggle. He glances at the guy sleeping in the seat next to him and chuckles. The man has a spot of drool on his chin. He contemplates waking him "accidentally" but then decides against it.

As the plane stops at the terminal, Dave unbuckles his seatbelt and gathers his belongings. Once the hatch opens, he smiles at the flight attendants and de-boards. He carries his briefcase in one hand and a small duffle bag of essentials in the other. This had been a quick trip, so no suitcase.

He is in the terminal when he feels a tug on his arm. He turns around. The two twenty-somethings are blushing as they fidget in front of him.

"Can I help you," he asks.

They look at each other. College students. One wears a Georgetown t-shirt that hugs her breasts and a skirt. The other is in a plaid wool dress that complements her curves.

The girl in the dress holds something out to him, a copy of his latest book. "Can I get an autograph, Agent Rossi?"

Ten years have passed since he held the title of agent - he missed the sound of it. He eyes the book and the girls. "What do I get out of it," he asks baldly.

The girls look at each other again. The blushes deepen. "How about a kiss," she suggests.

He looks from one girl to the other. "Just one kiss?"

"One from each of us," the second girl says.

Setting his bags on the floor, he reaches for the book and pulls a pen from his pocket. "What's your name," he asks.

"I'm Amy," the first girl replies. She gestures to her friend. "And this is Tracey."

Dave half smiles and nods at the girls as he signs the book. He closes it and hands it back to Amy.

She grasps the book while awkwardly leaning into him. Her lips land half on his cheek and half on his lips. He gently pushes her back.

"I was teasing," he says with a shake of his head. "You don't owe me anything."

"Seriously?" Amy asks in bewilderment.

Tracey steps closer. "Want to come to our hotel? We'll fuck you."

Dave chuckles to himself as he bends down and picks up his bags. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm going to pass. You ladies take care of yourselves, okay?"

They share a surprised glance as Dave walks away.

"Is there something wrong with us," Amy calls out.

Dave stops and swivels back to them. "No, there's nothing wrong with you."

The girls close the difference between them. "Then why don't you want to fuck," Tracey asks boldly. "We heard that you were quite the Hugh Hefner type. Is that not true?"

Dave grins and rubs his forehead with his right hand. He stares past them for a minute. "It was true… but I'm, I'm just not interested right now. You're both beautiful, sexy, young women and I'm flattered that you asked."

He pauses for a moment. "I just got home from a long trip and all I want right now is to go home and relax. Perhaps we will run into each other again and the timing will be right. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Amy replies. She hugs the book to her chest again. "Thanks for the autograph."

"You're welcome," he smiles.

"It was nice to meet you," Tracey says. She grabs Amy's sleeve and starts to walk away. "We better go get our bags."

He watches them for a moment before following after them. He walks past the baggage terminal and out to the curb where a sleek black sedan waits for him. He tosses his bags into the back seat then climbs into the front passenger seat.

"Hi Reeni," he says with a smile to the woman behind the wheel. He leans over and kisses her cheek. "Thanks for coming to get me."

"You're welcome. What was the delay?"

He gives her a quick side-eye then looks away. "I had dinner with Jason last night."

Her silence speaks volumes to him. He turns to see her watching him.

"What did he want?" she asks. Her voice carefully neutral.

"To let me know he was leaving the BAU," he tells her keeping his own voice as neutral as possible.

"And what else?" she presses.

"Why are you so suspicious? It was dinner between two friends," he says deflecting from her question.

She purses her lips as her jaw clenches. "You know how I feel about Jason Gideon."

"I don't know why you don't trust Jason," he sighs. "The man had my back for twenty years."

"Uh-huh," she says unconvinced. "If it wasn't for Jason, you wouldn't have stayed in that god-awful job."

He frowns. "It wasn't that bad."

She stares at him in silence for a moment. "David, we rarely saw you and when we did – you were so distant, unemotional."

He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a huff. "Can we agree to disagree and move on?"

"Fine," she smiles. "How was your trip?"

He gives her a shit-eating grin. "Same old shit, different day."

"How many women did you sleep with," she questions. She pulls the car away from the curb and heads for the exit.

"What are you, the Spanish Inquisition?"

She laughs. "Nope, just your nosy sister."

"Nosy is right," he grumbles. "Where are the grandkids?"

"Boston," she replies. Irene, or Reeni as Dave calls her, navigates the car smoothly through traffic.

"Ah," he nods. "How long?"

"They left yesterday and will return on Sunday."

He stares out the side window for a few moments. "You could have brought Mudgie."

"I don't want that mutt of yours in my nice car," she growls.

He looks over the seat to the back and takes note of the trash and toys on the floor. "This is your nice car?"

She smacks him. "I will leave you right here on the side of the road, mister."

"You know if he's too much trouble, I could get someone else to take care of him," he continues to tease.

She looks at him like he just grew a second head.

"Are you trying to get me killed?! You know that JD would disown me if that happened," she scolds.

"How is my favorite grand-nephew?"

"He's doing fine," she smiles. "He wants to play baseball this year. His Mother is not so certain."

"Why not? He's twelve. She does know that she can't protect him from everything, right," Dave asks.

Reeni nods. "She knows. It's just that, after the football accident, she's more cautious."

"That was just as you say – an accident. He's fully recovered. The doctor cleared him, yes?"

"Yes," she says reluctantly.

"Then he should play," Dave huffs. "He needs to be allowed to be a kid. Kids get hurt, it's part of growing up."

"You don't have to convince me, Davey. I'm on JD's side. And I'm sure Rebecca is going to come around." She starts to chuckle. "Honestly, I think she took the kids to Boston to avoid you. She knows that JD is going to talk to you, and you will bully her into letting him play."

"I don't bully people," he says defensively.

She looks at him sideways. "Really?"

"It's called the art of persuasion."

"Oh, Davey. You are single-handedly the most stubborn, egotistical, narrow-minded son of a bitch I have ever met in my life. When you get a thought in your head, it is almost impossible to get you to change your mind."

He laughs. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," she replies. She turns off the highway onto a gravel road marked "Little Creek Reservoir". Dust kicks up from the tires, but the road is as smooth as a gravel road could be, which isn't very smooth.

"You want to hang out for a while," he asks as she pulls into the parking area of a large log cabin.

She smiles and turns off the engine. "I was already planning to."

Dave grabs his things from the back seat, and they head inside the cabin.

An exuberant brown Labrador bounds out from the living room tail wagging, tongue out releasing an occasional bark and a squeal. He rubs against Dave between jumps and hops.

"Hey buddy," Dave greets the dog. He sets down his things and rubs the dog's ears.

Smiling and shaking her head, Reeni, steps past the pair. "I'm going to check on lunch."

"What are we having?"

"Beef stew," she yells over her shoulder.

Dave grabs his things and heads up the stairs. Mudgie follows his every move.

Little Creek Cabin – Kitchen

Dave joins his sister at the table in the kitchen. A steaming bowl of stew and a basket of warm bread waits for him. Reeni has also poured a large glass of tea for them both.

"Did you do my laundry," he grumbles as he sits.

"Yeah," she replies. "You have a problem with that?"

"I can take care of my own clothes, Reeni. I'm a grown man."

"A grown man with a very busy schedule," she reminds him. "I thought you would appreciate having one less thing to deal with when you got home."

"I do," he says gently. He places his hand over hers and gives it a squeeze.

Dave says grace and they start to eat.

"So, um. Are you and Bren still seeing each other," she asks.

He frowns at her. "Seeing each other? You mean dating?"

She nods as she chews.

"She's my manager not my girlfriend," he says.

She nods. "So, that wasn't her underwear I found under your bed?"

He drops his spoon in the bowl and glares at her. "Minchia! Why were you looking under the bed? And yes, if you really want to know, I am fucking her."

"Don't you get mouthy with me, mister. Jesus David! You have a drawer full of panties and other assorted women's wear in your closet, does it all belong to her," she asks.

He begins to eat again. "Not all of it," he replies as he shoves a spoonful of food in his mouth.

He looks up to see her watching him with a pained expression on her face.

"What? Don't look at me like that," he tells her.

She sighs. "I know it's cliché, but I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy," he says. "I have a good income, a great place to live, a family that loves me – what more can I ask for?"

"A wife? Maybe a kid or two?"

"No," he says shaking his head vehemently. "No kids. Besides any kids I had would be younger than your grandkids. That's not happening. It's bad enough that my oldest nephew is six years younger than me. I'm not interested in being a dad."

"Fine, what about a wife then?"

"I've already had three, how many more do I need?" he asks. "Besides, I'm done looking for commitment. There isn't a woman out there that could convince me to take that chance again. What about you? You ready to find someone new?"

She sits back in her seat. A small smile plays at her lips. "As a matter of fact, I am."

Dave drops his spoon again and stares at her. "Really?"

She nods and lets out a giggle. "I haven't told anyone, so please keep this to yourself for now."

He nods solemnly.

"Pinkie swear," she demands as she holds out her hand.

Dave wraps his pinkie around hers. "I promise…"

"The secrets that we share will go nowhere," they say in unison.

"Remember that book club you told me about a few months ago," she asks.

"I do."

"Well, I've been going there every week and about three weeks ago this new guy joined our group," she explained. "He's really handsome, tall, muscular but not too muscular. He's a retired firefighter. His name is Bill. He sat next to me and we really hit it off. He has some of the most amazing insights on things. He asked me to have coffee, and I said yes."

"Is that all," Dave asks suggestively.

"We've gone out a few times and he's kissed me," she admits. "He wants to meet the family, especially Rebecca and the kids. I'm a little scared. What if they don't like him?"

"So what? It's your life. All that matters, is that you like him," he tells her. "And, that he treats you right."

"I do like him," she says. "This is a whole new world for me. I haven't dated in… I can't remember how many years."

He grins. "Well, if you have any doubts you let me know. I still have connections you know."

"I have already warned Bill about my little brother the big, bad former FBI agent," she shares proudly. "He was dutifully impressed and would really like to meet you to show you he isn't a threat."

"We'll see about that," Dave growls teasingly.

"Are you going to be home for a few days?"

"I'm headed to Pittsburg tomorrow evening," he sighs. "I'll be back in time for Momma's birthday."

"Can Bill and I come over for dinner the next day," she presses. "I know you hate strangers in your house…"

He gives her an appraising look. "Of course, you can bring your man over. Make certain he is prepared for an interrogation. I'm not letting just anyone date my favorite sister."

A Television Studio – Pittsburg, PA

"Hey Dave, nice to see you again," Brent Tapia, a middle-aged Hispanic man with a large smile and firm handshake, greets Dave warmly. They shake hands.

"Good to see you as well," Dave smiles in return. Brent is one of the few talk show hosts that Dave enjoyed talking to about his books. He isn't creepy and actually did his homework before the show, so he didn't ask stupid or awkward questions.

"This was a tough read," Brent says as he settles into his chair on the raised platform. He sets a copy of Dave's book, Broken Child: Abuse and its After Effects, on the table next to him.

"It was tough to write," Dave says as he makes himself comfortable in the matching chair to Brent's right. He waits patiently as a team of make-up, hairdressers and wardrobe converge on both men for "last looks" before the cameras turn on.

"David Rossi," a familiar voice calls out.

He looks up to see a tall, thin African American woman approach.

"Gretchen? I thought you were in Houston," he replies warmly.

Her smile widens as she steps onto the platform and crosses over to sit on Brent's left. "I was and then I got an offer to come here and voila, here I am," she laughs.

"And we are happy to have her," Brent adds.

"Who's going to take me out for barbecue now?" Dave teases.

"We can do that here," she says allowing her natural Texas drawl to come through. "I've found a couple of places that are satisfactory."

"Thirty seconds," a voice calls out from behind the cameras and lights. The extra people clear from the platform leaving Dave and the two hosts alone. "Quiet please."

The room settles. Dave can now see the Assistant Director standing next to the cameras.

"Cameras up. Live in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five." The countdown goes silent as he uses his fingers to show the descent.

"Good morning, Pittsburgh," Brent says loudly as the light on the middle camera turns on.

Dave puts on his best "I'm listening" face as Brent and Gretchen go through their daily spiel. A few minutes later, Brent introduces him.

"We are joined this morning by best-selling author and former FBI agent David Rossi," Brent says. "Welcome back, always a pleasure having you here."

Dave smiles. "Thank you."

"We are talking today about your latest book," Brent continues as he picks up the book for the camera. "Broken Child: Abuse and its After Effects. This is not an easy book to read, but it is important, is it not?"

Dave half-shrugs. "I wouldn't have written it if I didn't think it was important."

Both hosts chuckle.

Dave continues. "We are still trying to understand the effects of childhood trauma, the most impactful being abuse from someone trusted. Whether that abuse is physical, mental, or sexual; being a derivative of the other two."

"Unlike other books on the subject, which tend to focus on recognizing the signs of abuse, your book focuses on the child being abused and how they react to the abuse, correct?" Brent asks.

Dave frowns. "I don't think react is the correct term for it. You've heard of nature versus nurture? Is it inherent when we are born – nature, or does a behavior rise from the way a person is raised - nurture?"

He pauses and allows his audience, both in person and on the other end of the camera, to think for a moment. "Normally, when using those terms, we think of the positive effects, caring for others, sharing our belongings, respecting others' personal space, and respecting and caring for ourselves. For abused children nature versus nurture turns into a negative."

He shifts in his seat and leans forward. "In the simplest of terms without it being the religious connotation we are talking about good versus evil. The good being the positive aspects and the evil being negative aspects. And those negative aspects are enhanced."

"Now, this is your fifth book, is it not?" Gretchen asks.

"It is," Dave affirms.

She smiles. "From our earlier interviews, I remember that you tend to specialize in serial killers. Are you inferring that abused children become serial killers?"

"Not at all," Dave replies. "While an overwhelming number of serial killers were abused as children, being abused doesn't guarantee that anyone will become a serial killer. In fact, a lot of children, with counseling and love, get past the abuse and end up in careers that help people, such as doctors and counselors."

"I'm guessing you have had a lot of first-hand experience with kids who have been abused," Brent states.

"Unfortunately, yes," Dave acquiesces.

"How do you get past that? Are there any cases that still haunt you?" Brent asks.

"It's tough. Back in the day there weren't as many programs available to help, but we would do our best to get the families into counseling. Or get the kids out of the situation," Dave replies. He sits back for a moment and collects his thoughts. "As far as your other question, yeah, there are a few cases that haunt me."

"How so?" Gretchen presses.

Dave gives her a pointed look. "We can't always have a happy ending. Sometimes the bad guy dies, by his own hand or someone else's or we just can't figure out who did the crime. Those are the worst ones for me. Knowing that someone out there has hurt people and may still be hurting people."

"Have you ever thought of going back to the bureau and looking for them again?" Gretchen asks.

Dave blinks. "It's crossed my mind."

"Well, keep us informed on anything you decide to do in the future," Brent says warmly. "We always love having you on the show."

"Thank you," Dave replies. "It's always a pleasure to see both of you."

Brent turns to the camera holding up the book one more time. "Once again, our guest has been David Rossi, best-selling author and former Profiler for the FBI. You can find his book, Broken Angel: Abuse and it's After Effects at a book seller near you. When we come back from the break, Jill will have an update on the weather."

Dave waits for the red light on the top of the camera to turn off before he lets his smile fade. He hates the time before and after the release of a new book. He hates talking about the book, and just wants people to read it as he works on the next one.

However, his publisher, Gary, and manager, Bren, have both convinced him that his face sells more books than anything else does and if he wants to keep making money, he needs to get his ass on tv.

He stands up and allows the sound tech to remove the lav pack from his belt and the microphone from his lapel. Grateful that the tech is more interested in getting his job done rather than groping him, Dave smiles and nods at the man. He shakes hands with his hosts and walks off stage.

Grabbing his coat and briefcase, he heads towards the door. A hand on his arm stops him mid-stride. He turns around to see the producer smiling at him. He gives her an appraising look.

"Hello, Heather."

Long blonde hair, green eyes, big tits, and ample hips. 'Very fuckable,' he thinks. 'Oh, wait I have fucked her.' She was also smart and confident, he found that even more attractive. He gives her a smile.

"Please allow me to escort you out," she smiles.

"My pleasure," he murmurs. He follows her out of the studio. They cross the parking lot to his car. He unlocks the SUV and opens the back door.

She slides into the vehicle. Dave follows right behind her throwing his jacket and briefcase onto the front seat.

He helps her remove her top and her bra. His hands roam over her firm flesh as she unbuckles his belt and opens his pants. She reaches into his underwear and pulls out his dick. She takes him into her mouth, sucking and licking like she has all day.

His right hand continues to play with her tits as he brushes her hair back with his left hand.

The girl sucks hard on his dick. Dave grits his teeth as she reaches a hand into his shorts and rubs his balls.

He watches her bob up and down on his lap for a moment.

Heather pulls off his dick and licks her lips as she looks at him. He tweaks her nipple before pressing her head back to his lap. She slowly slides him deep into her mouth.

He drops his hand onto the girls' head encouraging her to move a little faster.

His breath catches as she slides her tongue across a sensitive bit of his flesh.

She picks up her pace on his dick. Dave lets out a sharp breath over a moan.

He bites his lip as he feels his dick sliding deep into the girls' throat.

He gently pulls the girl up and off his dick. She takes him in her hand and strokes him. She leans close and whispers in his ear. "Come for me. I want to see you spurt on my tits."

Dave watches her hand move up and down rapidly. His hips jerk in time with her.

He rubs his hand over the girl's back, sliding underneath to take her tit in his palm and squeeze until she moans. He reaches for her other tit and does the same thing.

Suddenly, she sits up. He watches as she slides off her shoes and removes her pants.

"Changed my mind, I need to come," she says as she moves to crawl onto his lap.

"Wait," he orders harshly. She hovers partway over his lap. He pulls out his wallet and removes a condom. The girl plays with herself as she watches him unwrap the condom and slide it on.

As soon as the condom is on, her leg slides over his and she reaches down to line him up to her opening. Dave makes room for her as his dick slides in deep. He grabs both of her tits as she bounces up and down on his lap.

He looks out the window and spies a group of young women exit one of the buildings. The girls laugh and talk amongst themselves. He glances at the woman pleasuring herself on his lap and thinks about the horrific deaths of young women he has never met. Women who had hopes and dreams, friends, and laughter just like the girls walking past his vehicle.

One of the group glances into his SUV and they make eye contact. She looks familiar and he wonders if she works in the studio too. She hesitates a fraction of a second before breaking eye contact and moving off with her friends.

Heather moans and twists as she starts to orgasm. He brushes her hair back.

"Minchiata," he growls. He wraps his arms around her torso, closes his eyes and pounds into her hard from below. He hears her scream as she tumbles over the edge.

He lets out his own cry as he comes inside her. Images flash through his mind: images of female victims. Some faces long buried in the past and others still waiting to be found, all waiting to be remembered as justice is served. His movements slow as he becomes aware that Heather is stroking his hair and face while whispering, 'it's okay', over and over in his ear. Tears dampen his face.

In the SUV

Moving to the front seat, he catches his breath as he watches Heather scurry across the parking lot and into the studio. He closes his eyes. An image of the girls walking past flashes through his mind again.

"They weren't real," he tells himself as he rubs his face. But something about them seemed familiar. He allows himself to concentrate on the image or was it a memory – several memories. He groans. His eyes pop open. They were memories, all jumbled together. Different victims of different killers jumbled in his mind. All of them waiting for justice.

"Fucking Jason," he breathes. He knew this was because of his conversation Jason. The man had planted the seeds of doubt and hope in his mind.

If he was honest with himself, he too was at fault. He had been thinking about those cases, the ones they never solved. The criminals lurking in the darkness, waiting for a new victim. Dave smacks his hand on the steering wheel. And the nightmares – yeah – he still has nightmares. Very specific ones.

"Unfinished business," he growls. "Yeah, I have unfinished business. Maybe I can go back… for a little while. Not forever."

He grabs his phone, searches for a moment and dials.

"Federal Bureau of Investigation. How can I help you?"

"Director Fickler, please," Dave says confidently.

"One moment," the voice says. The line beeps, and a second beep before the line rings again.

It's answered on the second ring. "Director Fickler's office."

"This is David Rossi," he announces. "May I speak to the Director please?"

"Let me see if he's available," the assistant says. "One moment."

Dave listens as music plays over the line. He rubs his eyes. The line clicks.

"Dave?"

"Hey Jack! How are you?" Dave grins.

"I'm doing okay," Jack replies. "How are you? How can I help you?"

"I'm good." He pauses. "I called to see if I could help you."

"Well, I'm intrigued. Help me with what?" Jack asks.

"I heard you have a hole in the BAU, I'm interested in filling the spot while you look for a permanent replacement."

The line is quiet for a moment. The Director asks quietly. "How do you know that?"

Dave chuckles. "You think I'm completely out of the loop? Jason and I had dinner."

"Did he tell you where he went? Or why he left?" Jack questions.

Dave stares out the window. "You know Jason, he likes his privacy."

"You do too," Jack points out.

"Listen, do you want my help or not?"

"You're serious?"

"One hundred percent."

He hears Jack breathe out heavily. "This really would help me out. It's not easy to find replacement profilers. Takes a while to get them up to speed."

"Preaching to the choir, my friend."

"Yeah, I know," Jack laughs. "Okay. Let me make a few phone calls, get things set up. Erin Strauss is the department head, set up a meeting with her in a few days to get your credentials. Can you still pass the physical?"

"Does a fish swim in the water?"

"Thanks, Dave. I look forward to working with you again," Jack tells him. "Let's do lunch and celebrate your return."

"I'll make arrangements with your assistant," Dave laughs.

"Sounds good," Jack replies. "See you soon."

Ending the call, Dave slips the phone into his pocket. He adjusts the seat and checks himself in the mirror. Shaking his head, he laughs; he looks like he just got fucked.

End Chapter 1