"I didn't bring you here to bully you," he said, cooly. "In a few hours you're going to feel like you've been hit by a truck. By then, you won't be able to listen to me."

"Who says I'm going to listen to you now?" She asked, taking a bite of the soup.

He watched her closely, the soup spoon trembled slightly in her hand. "That's up to you," he said. "To your credit, I think you miscalculated the time of your last drink."

Frustrated, she threw the spoon down and pushed away from the table.

"You might be right." She relented, rubbing her temple. Her head was throbbing.

"Right about what?" He asked, challenging her, mocking her.

Her eyes snapped open, "everything! Are you happy now?" She spat.

Damn. Dave shook his head, the pre-detox mood swings wasted no time, kicking in. "Listen, Lady, I'm going to be a good host and show you to your room," Dave said, clearing her bowl away. "After that, you and I aren't going to speak to each other until you're curled up on the bathroom floor praying to the porcelain gods."

"Go to Hell." She growled, through her teeth.

He glanced at his watch, "In an hour or so, that's where you'll be standing."

"Bite me, Rossi." She said, she flung her words like grenades because they were all she had left.

"No thanks." He shrugged. "Been there,done that. Also, you lose your dinner on my exquisite italian rugs, you're cleaning it up," he warned. "I don't care how sick you are."

"Are you going to show me to my room or not?" She said sharply.

"Right this way, your Royal Pain in my ass." he led her towards the staircase.

"There's an en-suit bathroom and clean linens." He said, pushing open the door to the bedroom.

"Thanks," she said, almost warmly.

"You're welcome." He went into the bathroom and pulled out a towel and washcloth from the closet and hung them on the towel rack. "I'll loan you something to sleep in while your clothes are washing."

She eyed him suspiciously,"When did you become so domestic?"

"About 6 years ago," he said easily, "when I decided to enjoy my house instead of treating it like a place to change my clothes."

Erin gave a wry, self deprecating chuckle. Mark and the kids had moved out six months ago. Since then, Erin hardly slept in her house. It was too quiet without them. "It suits you." She said, only because it was the right thing to say. Staying civil sucked less than absolute silence.

Dropping one shoulder he said, "I'll be right back."

Downstairs, Dave found Erin's go-bag in the laundry room and rifled through it. As he suspected, among her business-as-usual clothing, he found a flask next to her toothbrush. He unscrewed the lid to check the level, half empty. For curiosity's sake, he took a sip. Halfway decent vodka. No doubt, she poured it at home and kept it in her go-bag.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and texted Hotch.

Someone check her office.

Less than a minute later, there was a response.

Already did. Got rid of everything.

Dave pocketed his phone and left the go-bag in the laundry room. He tried to shake off the guilty feeling that made the hair on his arm stand up. A man was never allowed to go through a woman's purse. His dearly departed Nona drilled that piece of wisdom into his head from the time he was old enough to walk. Some might argue he'd gone through Erin's luggage, but this was different from doing her laundry. He took the expensive leather handbag from the hook and unzipped it. Carefully he examined the contents. He pushed around the random things, like makeup, a hairbrush and other feminine items that held no interest for him. He unzipped the inner pocket and found what he was looking for.

A flask and a prescription bottle. He put the pills in his pocket for further inspection and poured the contents of both flasks down the kitchen sink. He stashed the flasks in the dishwasher before ducking into the laundry room.

Shuffling through the clean laundry, he found an old t-shirt and a pair of flannel pants. They might be a little big, but Erin wouldn't be leaving the bed for the foreseeable future. Folding the clothes over his shoulder, he headed back up the stairs. Heaving a heavy sigh, he lowered the lights. Throwing the house in semi darkness, it was going to be a long night. Oh well, he'd put on the coffee later.

"So, where's your dog?" Erin asked, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

Dave threw the clothes on the end of the bed. "I thought we weren't speaking."

"That was your mandate, not mine. You might as well answer the question." She volleyed back.

"I left him at the boarder's for the night. He would try to jump all over you and that wouldn't help things."

"Thanks for that," Erin shrugged nonchalantly. "Did he ever calm down?"

"Not by much-" Dave said, leaning against the four-poster. "But he's getting up there…"

"Oh." She said softly. "I thought, since he had a yard to play in..maybe he would have." Dave thought he heard a hint of regret in her tone, probably not. Erin didn't hold on to anything that didn't serve her current motivations.

"I'm sure you can find the toiletries," he said. Abruptly changing the subject. "I'll be in the next room." He turned on his heel, before he could walk out the door her voice caught him by surprise.

"Goodnight, David."

"Night." He said, with his hand on the knob. His hand was on the knob, but his body was reluctant to leave. Rossi knew what Strauss was about to go through, these next few days, was going to be anything but pleasant and as much as he hated Strauss, his boss, he would always have a soft spot in his heart, for Erin, the woman. If he was honest with himself, that is why it didn't take much for Hotch to convince him to do this. As many times as he had consigned her to hell around the office, he knew if he was being completely honest with himself, he'd probably get scorch marks, trying to keep her from falling into the eternal pit. Problem was, Erin knew it too and Dave knew, when the withdrawal got really bad, she'd try to use that knowledge against him, to get what she wanted, another drink. He'd just have to pray for the strength, to withstand her pleas. He might try to make people think he was heartless, but when it came to that woman in his guest room, he would do anything not to see her cry.

"Try to..uh..get some sleep." He said, leaving the room. If they were going to make it through the night, he needed to shake off the nostalgia. He went to his room and changed his clothes. The shower would wait until morning, he pulled back the blankets on the bed and climbed in. He flipped on the TV and scrolled the channels, settling on a nature documentary he fell asleep within seconds.