"Come on, Aaron. Sit," Rossi commanded as he steered Hotch towards the small black leather couch against the wall. He half expected the younger man to balk given the role that same couch had served over the years, but surprisingly the unit chief seemed almost grateful as he melted into the padded surface.

"You want something to drink?"

"Please," Hotch replied as he rested his head against the cushion and sighed. "I'm sorry, Dave. I don't know what got into me."

"Arrogance," the senior profiler offhandedly remarked while removing a bottle of whiskey from his desk draw.

"No."

Rossi froze for a second before throwing a glance in his old protege's direction.

"No?" he questioned with a raised brow. "You don't think you've been allowing your ego and pride to run rampant?"

"That's not what I was referring to," Hotch quickly corrected with a shake of his head. "I meant no to the scotch."

"Bourbon?"

"Just some water will be fine."

Dave looked at the clock on his desk.

"Aaron, it's nearly quiting time. I'm sure it won't..."

Again, the younger man shook his head.

"I don't want it."

"Well you need to do something to help you relax. Look at your hands."

Hotch did as he was bidden and was mildly shocked to find that they were trembling. He quickly interlocked his fingers and placed his hands on top his crossed knee to control their shaking.

"I really am fine, Dave. Just a touch of nerves."

Rossi sized his friend up for a few seconds before returning to the task of pouring himself a drink then grabbed a bottle of water for Hotch.

"You have nothing to be nervous about," he stated with confidence as he handed over the water and took a seat at the opposite end of the couch, keeping a comfortable distance between him and the lead profiler. "I'm not going to kill you," he threw in with a light smile before taking a sip of the dark amber liquid that swirled in his tumbler.

"I know that, but knowing doesn't exactly make me feel better about any this."

"Any of what?"

"This. All of this," he barked as he cracked the seal on his bottle and took a long drink to ease the tightening of his throat.

"Aaron, look at me," Rossi said in a softened voice, and was rewarded with compliance. "I won't allow you to endanger yourself needlessly. You understand that, correct?"

"Yes."

"That's all that 'this' is about. It's a road that we've traveled before. It's nothing new, but I don't ever recall seeing you quite this worked up. What's going on? Talk to me."

Hotch was quiet for a moment longer before he drew a deep breath and sat up straighter in his seat with both feet planted squarely on the floor. Shifting his attention to the toes of his highly polished shoes, he exhaled slowly.

"I don't want to repeat the actions that placed me in this situation, but I don't know that I won't react the very same way should similar circumstances present themselves."

Dave moved to reassure his unit chief of the highly reduced likelihood of such an occurrence, but his words remained unspoken as the troubled young man turned his dark, pain-filled eyes upon him.

"As you've pointed out, what if the next person isn't as lucky as Garner? What if that next person is one of you? It could have very easily been Morgan running in after me. He wasn't that far behind. Hell, it could have been any of you."

The tempest of emotions caused a lump to form in the profiler's throat as he fought to continue to project his habitual calm and collected facade before realizing he was failing miserably.

Glancing away from his mentor, he continued with his deep, smooth voice wavering slightly.

"What if it's Reid next time? He really isn't well equipped for that type of situation. What if I do something that gets him injured... or worse?"

Lowering his head, he cradled it in his hands and closed his eyes as the full force of his guilt crashed down around him.

Rossi passively watched as grief began to intermingle with guilt. A touch of self-pity, he was certain, but mostly true remorse for a scenario that hadn't occurred, but very easily could have.

"He holds you on a pedestal," Dave finally said. "That kid will follow you to hell and back given the chance. We all would, but you do have more of a reason to worry about Spencer. You can do no wrong in that young man's eyes."

Hotch nodded while keeping his head bowed.

"And would you want to have to explain to his mother..."

Aaron's head popped up, a dark scowl on his face while his eyes reflected his soul-deep suffering.

"I couldn't."

"You're the unit chief. You'd have to. That's part of the job," Rossi stated coolly, without an ounce of sympathy. "You would have to look her in the eye and tell her that her baby boy was injured in the line of duty. And why? Because that's what his supervisor taught him. He would have learned it from you."

Hotch swallowed hard, but refused to look away as he absorbed the truth of Rossi's statement. His mind whirled wildly as he sought to find some way to refute the man's reasoning. Quickly, he spat out the first response that offered him hope.

"He's too smart. He would never do such a thing."

David leaned towards his anxious friend and stared directly into his eyes.

"Now you're lying to yourself," he flatly explained. "That kid has idolized you for as long as I've known him. He learns by your example. Not by what you say, Aaron. He learns by what you do."

"I would never allow him..."

"That's just it. Can you look me in the eye and tell me that, after what you pulled, you have any right to correct him for doing the same thing? This isn't about you putting him in danger, though that is a possibility if you keep this crap up. No. This is about what he'll see as the right course of action to take because his boss takes those same damn risks. If it's okay for you, then it certainly must be okay for him. You would never do anything that breaks the rules, now would you?"

Aaron rubbed his temple to ward off a budding headache before averting his gaze with an exasperated sigh.

"I won't put myself in danger like that again."

"Aaron, " Dave growled while reaching out to catch his former protege's chin and forced the younger man to face him. "What have I told you about lying to me?"

"I'm not trying to lie. I don't want to place anyone in danger. And no, I don't want to leave my son alone, but I can't just stop doing my job because things get hairy. There has to be another solution that will keep everyone safe while allowing me to get the job done. If they do as I say, this doesn't even have to come into question."

"Seriously? You expect that to work? You think hypocritical practices are the solution to this problem?"

Hotch clamped down on the inside of his cheek before turning away to grouse under his breath.

"You disagree with something I've said?" Rossi challenged.

"I'm not a hypocrite."

"Do as I say, not as I do," the older man stated with a slow shake of his head. "If you don't practice what you preach, then that's exactly what you are. A hypocrite of the highest order."

Hotch folded his arms and held them tightly against his chest as he hunched up defensively while glowering with indignation.

"Well, at least your hands have stop shaking," Dave noted as he cocked a brow.

Aaron raised his eyes to glare at the senior profiler, but kept his chin tucked against his chest.

"Son, you need to make a decision about how you want this to play out. And for God's sake, you've got to stop fighting me at every turn," the Italian said as he placed the now empty tumbler down on the end table at his elbow.

"I'm not fighting you."

A dry laugh echoed through the room.

"You have got to be kidding me. Do you even hear yourself? Aaron, I can see the remorse, and you've admitted to having been in the wrong. You don't want to endanger your team, but you're still trying to make excuses for your behavior."

"It's not an excuse. I know I was wrong, but."

Dave waited for Hotch to complete his thought with more patience than he would normally extend.

After a moment, the younger man softly exhaled.

"I don't believe you're going to be able to deter me, which makes this discussion rather pointless."

"You don't want to make a change even though you know it's in your best interest and will benefit those around you?"

"I do."

"Then this... intervention is a far cry from pointless."

"Dave, to effect that kind of change in the manner than you're proposing..." Aaron paused and shook his head. "I can take pain. You wouldn't be able to inflicted..."

"I don't need to inflict anything," Rossi firmly stated in a calm tone.

"But you will."

The Italian's brows rose as he tilted his head, his vision momentarily unfocused while he considered other options. Finally, he stared straight back at his colleague as he sighed inwardly.

"Unless you can give me a better solution to our current situation, then ...yes. In all likelihood my displeasure will be inflicted upon your posterior. Look, Aaron. Over the years, I've learned what works with you. Sometimes a little properly placed motivation does wonders, and you know that's true. If you can honestly deny my statement, I suggest you do it now."

Hotch's gaze dropped to his still crossed arms.

"You would have to be far harsher..."

"Stop."

Dark eyes flicked upward to meet the senior's while the younger agent hushed.

"You don't know everything, counselor."

"And you do?"

Rossi couldn't suppress a mild chuckle as he shook his head.

"Hardly, kid, but I know that harsh treatment will shut you down in a heartbeat. And with good reason."

Dave cleared his throat before donning his most serious expression.

"Aaron, I made you a promise a long time ago. I know the cruelty you've endured, and I will never, in any way, shape, or form, treat you like that. There are times, like this, when I truly believe that you'll benefit from a firm hand, but never a harsh one."

Hotch's head bowed again as his friend's words washed over him. Biting his bottom lip, the lead profiler inhaled deeply before giving his head a violent shake.

"A firm hand is not going to deter me from my duty."

"I don't want to deter you from doing your job. I want to inspire you to be more thoughtful about how you do it. I want you to lead by example and follow the same protocol you expect the boy genius and everyone else to follow. I don't think that's an unreasonable request, do you?"

Hotch answered with a soft, defeated, "No."

"Good. At least we have found one point where we can agree," the elder praised while grasping his friend's shoulder and giving it a supportive squeeze. "And now we've also established that your recent behavior would be unacceptable for any other member of the team, and would be dealt with accordingly."

Aaron's shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh before he nodded in agreement.

"It would be."

"As the head of this team, you need to adhere to the rules and set the prime example for the rest to follow. Agree or disagree?"

The younger man looked up at his mentor, then just as quickly shifted his gaze away.

"Agree," he finally answered in an even tone that belied his inner turmoil.

"Now that we've settled that point of contention, I need you to give Jessica a call and tell her that you'll be running a little late in picking Jack up."

"Dave, Jack is going to be looking for me. I can't leave him with Jessica. He needs me to pick him up. Especially after yesterday."

"And you will, but you're going to spend a little time with me first. After we've settled your debt, you and I will go pick Jack up together and take him to one of those kid places to get something that poses as food."

"I..."

"Aaron, do you think it's wise to keep putting this off? Be honest."

Hotch consulted his watch, then leaned his head back against the cushion and closed his eyes.

"I can give you twenty minutes. We can use the conference room."

"No."

The unit chief's eyes open and he gave his mentor a looked of utter confusion.

"No?"

"Not here."

"I'm alright with it," Hotch assured him.

"Well, I'm not, and you don't get to call the shots. So here's your choice. Either call Jessica and tell her that you're going to be running a little late, or we'll go pick Jack up now, and you can eventually try to explain to him what that rhythmic smacking sound he heard was. And remember, it's not okay to lie, even to your bambino. It's your decision, Chief."

Hotch glared at Dave through narrowed eyes, before rubbing his hand over his face with a loud groan.

"Your place or mine?"

Rossi smirked before patting his old protege's knee while moving to stand.

"I have another idea. Wouldn't you agree that the actual discussion part of this evening's event is at a close?"

"I think any further debate would simply be flogging a dead horse," Aaron answered with a nod as he also rose from the couch. "So, yes."

"Good, then come with me and we'll conclude our business so Jack isn't kept waiting too long. Leave your car here. I'll drive."

"Drive where? If we're not going to the house..."

"Somewhere that I know will put your head in the right place. Grab your coat. I'll meet you at the elevator," the Italian stated while propelling Hotch out of the office with a hand on his shoulder. "And call Jessica. Now."

Roughly ten minutes later Hotch was staring up at a familiar flickering neon sign.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope," Rossi said with a single shake of his head. "It's on the way to pick up Jack, and if the setting doesn't set the mood, I've lost my touch."

Aaron's stomach knotted as the buzzing sign brought up old memories he hadn't revisited in years.

"I think your house would be a better option. Jack will be okay with waiting just a little while longer."

"Nonsense. Let's go in and get this done."

"Dave, this really is no better than being at work. Nearly everyone from the Bureau winds up here."

Rossi snapped his fingers causing Hotch to look away from the Chalk Lines sign and focus on him.

"Nobody knows what happens in that back office except us, and it's too noisy for anyone to hear," he said in a reasonable tone. "Aaron, got you here was a real rookie move. I think mentally revisiting your earlier experiences at the Bureau will do you some good."

"But, Dave..."

"No buts, kid. Come on. Let's get this over with so we can move on with a clean slate, just like back in the old days."

The senior agent opened the door and stepped aside to allow the younger man to enter ahead of him.

"Rossi!"

"Hey, Felix. How's it been? Heard from Baker lately?"

"Heard he's on some cruise or something. Soaking up the sun and enjoying the good life," the bartender related as he placed a glass down on the bar. "What can I get ya?"

"Let me get back to you on that. I'm actually here because Ed and I had a little agreement. When I needed a place for a private meeting, he would offer the office up to me. I was hoping that invitation was still valid."

"Sure is. Hey, the hall is still his, I'm just providing the manpower until he's done lazing around and decides to get back to work."

"You're a good man."

"Try telling that to my wife," the man said with a sly grin before seeming to finally notice the agent standing behind Rossi with his arms crossed and head down. "Don't see you around much if at all, Aaron. How many years has it been?"

"Too many to count," the profiler replied without looking up.

"Work keeping ya busy, eh?"

"Something like that."

"It's the job that brings us in today. Incident during our last case that we're trying to resolve," Dave offered. "And we need to hash things out ASAP, so Hotch can get home to his little one. Don't mean to be rude, Felix, but it's been a long day, and we really want to put this one to bed."

"Oh, no. I get it. Y'all go take care of business. I'll see to it that you're not disturbed. Hope it doesn't take long. Family is everything. Can't keep that boy of yours waiting," the bartender said with a smile for Hotch.

"No, I really shouldn't. He'll be worried if I'm too late," the unit chief replied with a nod.

"Then come on, kid," Rossi said while stepping to the side to let Hotch pass. "I'm sure you remember where it is. You go ahead and lead the way."

Aaron gazed at Dave for a moment before breathing a sigh as he moved towards the corridor that ran behind the bar.

Standing in the doorway to the office, Hotch marveled at how little it had changed. The same scarred desk dominated the room as it supported a teetering stack of invoices. The seemingly unused filing cabinet sulked in a corner that they had both shared on more than one occasion. The sturdy, well-worn chairs still held their honored positions on either side of the desk.

A warm, oddly gentle hand came to rest on the lead profiler's shoulder.

"You alright?"

Hotch nodded while still surveying the room.

"I was just." He paused and softly sighed.

Rossi ducked around him far enough to see the younger man's face.

"Getting nervous?" he asked without judgment.

"A little," Aaron admitted before steeling his nerve to step into the room.

"Good. A little unease is a good thing. A lot...not so much."

"I'm not scared if that's where you're headed. It's just... It's been a long time, and I never thought..."

Again, the agent allowed the words to die on his lips as he bowed his head.

Rossi moved over to the desk and leaned back against the front edge while he studied the younger man closely.

"Maybe it's been too long," he surmised as he subconsciously interpreted the cues given through Hotch's body language. "You're never too old, Aaron. I've told you that before. A number of times, if memory serves. As long as I have the strength, I'll pull you back in line every time you deserve it. That's something you can count on, along with being shown just how much you mean to me and this team."

With his head still low, Hotch raised his eyes to meet Rossi's, but remained silent.

"I'm all talked out. That is unless there is something you would like to add. Some reasonable defense for your actions, counselor?"

The leader of the BAU slowly shook his head and looked away.

"Alright then, kid," the Italian stated while turning towards the desk and pushing the papers off to one side before taking at seat on the cleared surface. Looking back at Hotch, he crooked a finger. "Come on over here. With the talking done, it's time for action."

As his breath escaped in an explosive huff, Aaron reluctantly crossed the small room, coming to a stop in front of Rossi.

"You know, you only call me kid when you think I've screwed up," the younger man observed.

"Do I?" Dave considered the statement for a moment then nodded.

"Well, it's fitting, don't you think? You did act like a kid. Brash. Running in like a rookie when you knew better. Of course, there are a number of other terms I could use for you," the Italian remarked with a sly grin. "But kid seemed like the kindest one."

Hotch rolled his eyes, before a clearing of his mentor's throat reminded him of his manners.

"So how do you want to proceed?" the team leader asked with a cocked brow. "If you want me over that desk, I think you'll need to move."

"I do want you over the desk, and that's precisely why I'm not going to move."

Aaron's look of confusion was replaced by a palpable horror as Dave pushed back further on the desk and patted his lap.

"You must be joking," the unit chief said while taking a step back.

"Nope. Act like a kid and get treated like one."

"Dave."

"Aaron," the man countered as he raised a brow.

"Be reasonable. I'm not going to do that."

"When will you get it through that thick skull that you don't have a say in the matter?" Rossi asked in exasperation before drawing a breath and continuing in a calmer tone. "Look. I can take you over my lap in that chair over there, but you're going to be mighty uncomfortable with my knee in your gut and the blood rushing to your head. I admit that a desk isn't the best option, but it will support you and it's all we've got."

"Dave, I don't need to be taken over your knee at all. That's kid's..."

The elder agent cocked his head as his protege suddenly grew mute.

"Go on," he encouraged. "Kid's what?"

Hotch exhaled sharply.

"Never mind," he begrudgingly growled as he reoriented himself at Rossi's right knee and began to bend down.

"Not yet. Aren't you forgetting something?" the legendary profiler inquired.

"You're joking."

"Nope. Lose 'em."

"They're linen. What sort of barrier can that possibly provide?"

"Lose 'em," David repeated with a touch more command in his tone.

Grumbling, Hotch unbuckled his belt and quickly unfastened his pants.

"This is ridiculous."

"Your behavior has been ridiculous. Now quite stalling, or have you forgotten that you have someone waiting on you?"

"Did you lock the door?"

"Yes."

Muttering under his breath, Hotch shed his slacks then folded his arms over his chest as he stared at Rossi.

"Don't give me that look, Aaron."

"What look?"

"Like this is my fault. I didn't cause this to happen to you. That was your doing. Now check the attitude before you make this a helluva lot harder on the both of us."

Hotch stiffly raised his head and stared hard at the older man before releasing a held breath and swallowing back his pride.

"Are you certain you wouldn't rather use the old school approach? Come on and let me lean over the desk. Believe me, that is just as humiliating as this."

Dave shook his head.

"I'm not interested in humiliating you. You should know that by now," Rossi said with a touch of hurt in his voice. "And while I shouldn't have to explain my actions to you, I will say that my reasoning is due to not wanting you to relate to this as an institutional type of correction. While I know I was busting your balls about the danger you place your partner in, this really isn't about your job performance. This is about your responsibility to your family. Meaning your team as well as Jack. We are a family."

"So you're trying to be my father," Hotch reasoned as bitterness added bite to his words.

"Not at all, Aaron, but you certainly are like a son to me. I can't dictate how you view me, but I've never hidden my feelings from you. You have always known where you stood with me."

The unit chief could see the sincerity in the elder man's face and felt his heart constrict almost painfully in his chest. Unable to hold Rossi's gaze any longer, Hotch bowed his head.

"I'm keeping my feet on the floor," he softly informed his disciplinarian.

"That's fine," Rossi answered while readjusting his position and taking Hotch's upper arm in a firm grip. Being careful to exert as little force a possible to get the stubborn man moving, the Italian guided his protege over his thigh and across the desk until Aaron was forced up on his toes in an attempt to keep contact with the carpeted floor.

Shifting him into a more satisfying position, Dave curled an arm around Hotch's waist to snug him tightly against his hip.

"Comfortable?"

"No," the unit chief answered in a muffled growl.

"Me neither, but we'll just have to make the best of an awkward situation. Maybe I can talk Felix into letting me refurnish the joint. What's a crash pad without a couch, huh?"

The younger man lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder.

"You're kidding, right? I'm not planning on accompanying you back here again."

"You never know, kid. You just never know."

The elder's hand quite unexpectedly cracked down on Hotch's rump, drawing a surprised grunt from the younger man before he buried his head in his folded arms and fell stoically silent.

There would be no slow warm up to ease the lad into the corrective process. His recklessness had earned him a stern lesson from the beginning, and that was what he would get.

"If you don't get a handle on this rookie style of behavior," Rossi lectured as he rained down several more stinging swats before settling into a steady, easy rhythm. "We may be spending a whole lot more time at the Lines than either one of us wants to. You don't do these things, Aaron. Ever."

The sharpness of Dave's strokes challenged the unit chief's impassive resolve, but the pain was familiar and something he could bear. As the stinging burn built, he knew he could disassociate himself from it. He could escape in his mind the same way he had in his youth. Aaron knew how to block the world out. He had become an expert at doing that, and when he did, no physical pain could hope to touch him.

"Do you know how much you're loved?" Dave quietly quizzed, causing Hotch to mentally sigh.

There would be no disassociation this evening. His mentor knew him as well as he knew himself. Over the years he had learned the subtle cues, the shifts in awareness, the puzzling silence, the lack of response. Rossi's skill as a profiler came in handy and he had quickly learned the best ways to keep his protege in the present when he desperately wanted to peacefully drift away. A raised angry voice was easy to ignore, but a soft reasonable one required the younger man's attention, and questions were expected to be answered.

"Yes."

"I don't think you do. I don't think you have a clue as to the number of lives you've touched, and just how many would be devastated if something were to happen to you."

Hotch grimaced as particularly firm stroke connected with the tender junction between his rump and thigh. Sucking in a breath, he steadied his voice.

"Something will eventually happen to me. In the words of Morrison, no one here gets out alive."

"While that's true," Rossi admitted in a pleasant tone before landing a rapid volley of blazing smacks to the younger man's under curve and thighs. "There's no reason to expedite your exit."

"I'm not trying to," the unit chief hissed as the fire across his backside began to blaze.

"You sure as hell could have fooled me."

Gritting his teeth, Hotch declined to comment further in an attempt to gain some form of control over his situation. If luck was on his side, his silence would bring about the same reaction in his disciplinarian and give him a chance to mentally escape.

That wasn't to be the case.

"Before you do anything that has even the most remote chance of endangering your life, I want you to stop and think about everyone who loves and relies on you. Think about Jack and your team. You've never been one to put yourself first. I know that. I know you are that superhero Jack sees every morning when he wakes up, but even superheros need to accept help. You may be super, Aaron, but you're not invincible."

The assault to his aching rear end abruptly stopped, but instead of being relieved, the profiler felt his concern for his hide ratchet up a notch. Swallowing hard, he remained silent and waited.

When Rossi set his hand on Hotch's thigh, the unit chief flinched.

"I take it that I have your undivided attention?"

After a moment, Aaron nodded without raising his head.

"You are not going to put me in the position to have to explain to Jack why his dad isn't coming home," the Italian quietly stated. "You will wait for backup, and you will rely on your team."

"I always rely on the team."

"No, Aaron. You don't. We brainstorm the profile, but you're as reckless as Morgan when it comes to tackling an unsub on your own. That stops here and now. I'm done putting up with this sort of horseshit from you. Your life is on the line every time you step off that plane in a new town to consult on a case. It's a risk we all agreed to, but we don't have to make the damn grim reaper's job any easier."

"Are we done?" the unit chief snidely inquired.

"Apparently not."

While maintaining his grip on his old protege, Rossi leaned back and rummaged through a draw. Finding what he was looking for, he righted himself and hitched Hotch more firmly against his hip.

"I thought we were making a little bit of progress, but it seems that I didn't get through to you at all. Let's see if this will help."

Aaron bit the tip of his tongue as a line of pain exploded across the top of his thigh. As he rode out the shock wave his brain quickly identified the new source of his discomfort.

Fucking ruler!

The elder made quick work of laying the biting bar of wood across his miscreant's entire rear end, expertly using the stinging jolts to keep the younger man engaged while he kept his commentary silent. All too soon, the unit chief's body language changed. His muscles tightened, but his breathing began to come in slow, steady inhalations. It was then that the senior profiler went in for the kill.

"I always thought you were a man of your word, Aaron. Can't begin to tell you how disappointed I am to find that you aren't."

There was a hitch in the team leader's breathing that told Dave that he had him back.

"You told Haley that you'd be there for Jack. That you're make sure he grew up to be a good man. A loving man. Someone respectful, who could be respected. You were to keep him from becoming jaded. Let him know that life was something to be enjoyed. It's something to treasure. You're doing a piss poor job of that right now, aren't you, son?"

Hotch silently shook his head.

"Oh, yes you are. Think of the example you're setting for that child as you haphazardly put your life, your precious life, in danger. It wasn't that long ago that you told me you reprimanded Jack for disappearing on Jessica when they were out. And why was the kiddo in trouble? Because anything could have happened to him. You were concerned for your son's safety, but you show no concern for your own."

Each crack of the ruler was met with a flinch and the occasional soft hiss as the building physical pain mingled with the emotional pain brought on by Rossi's words. Hotch felt his carefully built walls beginning to crack and hated his mentor for it.

"What do you think she's thinking now? Do you think Haley is looking down on you and Jack with pride, knowing that you're taking good care of her son and helping him grow up right? Or, do you think you're turning her heaven into a hell as she watches you leave the house knowing that one day you're going to do something feeble minded and Jack will loose the only parent he has left?"

"Haley always knew..." The unit chief's voice was hoarse and wavered as he vainly tried to blink back his tears. "She knew what the job entailed."

"She did, but she charged you with a new job. A more important job. She placed you in charge of caring for the most precious gift she could have ever given you. Every time you take a foolish risk with your life, you're turning your back on that obligation. That has to stop, Aaron. What have I always said about family?"

The ruler clattered upon the desk as Rossi released it to free his hand to gently rub his sobbing friend's back.

"Family, Aaron," he quietly encouraged.

Hotch sniffled then cleared his throat.

"Family always comes first," he managed to reply, his voice cracking over the statement.

"That's right. The job is important. It truly is. And every life you safe is precious, but yours is more precious, and you've got to start being more careful with it."

"I'll try."

"You'll do more than try, kid, because if there's a next time I'm going straight to the belt, and I'll be channeling Haley from the start."

Hotch snuffled as he shook his head.

"You know, you're a real bastard."

"My mother would have disagreed with that statement, but I have been told that I looked more like the milkman than my old man."

A raw, rough laugh came from Hotch as he began to stir.

"Can I get up now?" he asked as he began to regain his normally infallible self control.

"Learned your lesson?" Rossi countered as he loosened his hold.

"I believe you made your point abundantly clear."

"Good. Then get dressed and clean up a bit so we can go pick Jack up. Your little man must be half starved by now."

"You know he's going to want to get pizza at that place with the mechanical mouse."

"Why anyone would want to eat at a place that has a rat as a mascot it beyond me."

"Kids love him."

"But they cry and carry on when you bring them to have their picture taken with Santa and the Easter Bunny. I never could understand that. Be scared of someone who gives you toys and candy, but mob a six foot rat bearing bad pizza. Makes no sense," Rossi mused as he straighten the papers on the desk while Aaron righted his clothing. "Have they never heard of the plague?"

At the sound of Hotch's belt being buckled, Rossi turned and carefully studied his friend's face.

"You okay now?"

"I've been better, but I'll live. Do you really think that damn ruler was necessary? The rat restaurant has hard plastic booths."

"Perfect. That will serve as a little reinforcement."

"Dave." Hotch's tone was serious as he meet his mentor's eyes. "I can't promise what I will or won't do when I'm called on to do my job, but I'll try to be more conscious of mitigating the danger to myself and others."

"Not quite the result I was hoping for, but if it's the best I can get, I'll take it."

"It's the best you're going to get," Aaron assured him.

"Still friends?"

"Of course," Hotch answered with a slight smile. "Though it's going to be a good while before I like you again, which may make itself known through your workload."

"Oh, Christ, save me. He's going to drown me in paperwork."

"One of the perks of being the unit chief."

Rossi shook his head and smiled.

"Alright, unit chief, let's get a move on. We've got a bambino to pick up and some bad pizza to eat," Dave said as he slapped Hotch on the back.

"You go ahead. I'll be right out."

"Afraid to be seen leaving with the old man?"

"I just need another minute."

"A minute," Rossi clarified. "I'll be out in the car." But as he started to step out of the back office, the elder profiler stopped and turned back to his friend. "Say, you think Jessica likes kiddie pizza? She hasn't started seeing anyone has she? Maybe she'd like to get out for a bit? Have a little fun."

"No," Aaron forcibly intoned. "Jessica will not be the next Mrs. Rossi."

"She could do worse."

"Dave."

"What? Young, single, attractive woman. Mature, successful, established man. What's wrong with that?"

"Just go wait in the car."

"Fine, but just imagine what a perfect family we would make, my future brother-in-law."

"Go!"

Laughing, Rossi ducked out the door and made his way down the corridor while Aaron breathed a sigh of relief.

Once alone, the lead profiler leaned against the filing cabinet in the corner and glanced around. In a strange way, he took comfort in the familiarity of the room. Most of the memories he had of it weren't particularly good, but none were truly bad either. Over the years, he had learned a lot more in here than he had at the JD and the Bureau combined, and he had David Rossi to thank for it.

Blinking, he drove away the unwelcomed sting of tears as the swallowed at the lump forming in this throat.

"Some things should never change," he muttered beneath his breath before a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "And maybe a few should."

Moving towards the desk, he picked up the solid wooden ruler and turned it over his hands before casually dropping it into the wastepaper basket.

"Goodbye, my friend. May we never meet again," the unit chief said, before turning away to leave the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

~FINI~

AN: And I believe that's that. A bit long for a one shot. ;-) Now I'll have to see what sort of inspiration the boys offer. Maybe some Reid, or a bit more of rookie Hotch trying to put his mentor into an early grave? Who knows?

Thanks for hanging in there with me, and for all your wonderful comments and support. They're more precious than gold. Thanks again everyone. Until next time...