"Human behavior flows from three main sources: desire, emotion, and knowledge"

Plato

It was time to blow off some steam. Those were the words that Emily Prentiss used when she emailed the invitation to Happy Hour. Of course, being a mere three days before St Patrick's Day, it was time to blow off steam and drink green beer.

Through out her Irish upbringing, Lisa O'Reilly had attended many knock down, drag out, drunken good time parties for St Patrick's Day. She knew damn well that one such party was going on back in Philadelphia that very night.

Her dad and both brothers had tried to talk her into coming home for the party, but she stayed in DC. She was glad she did, as most the BAU and even some of her group from CASMIRC had managed to show up. The bar was full and the green beer and dance music were flowing freely.

Once the dj started playing the bad 80's music, Emily and Penelope had spirited her out to the dance floor. Despite the horrors they saw on a daily basis, Lisa was glad that she and her friends had not lost their ability to let loose and have fun. They did it all too rarely, so when they did, it was usually a rowdy loud affair.

As they laughed and danced to the Vanity 6's Nasty Girl, she felt him watching her. She knew he was doing it casually, so as not to arouse the interest of their co-workers any further. Technically, they weren't violating the anti-fraternization rules. Still, there were some in the Bureau, who felt Lisa had gotten where she was by riding Rossi's coattails. She'd done a lot to change their minds and wasn't ready to chance throwing it all away. Not yet. So, they played it cool around Quantico.

Hotch had figured it out early on. She knew he would, he knew the two of them better than anyone there. Before actually letting Lisa know that he'd figured it out, Hotch paid a visit to Rossi. He quietly closed the man's office door and reminded Rossi that he had been there to help Lisa through the end of the relationship. He knew first hand what she'd gone through and how it had affected her. In no uncertain terms, Hotch told his old friend that neither he nor Lisa needed to go through that again and he would not tolerate it.

After issuing his threat, which, Hotch assured her, Rossi took in the friendly manner it was intended, Hotch addressed the situation with Lisa. Despite the fact that they were sitting in Garrity's Pub, Hotch adopted the tone of voice he usually reserved for Press Briefings and reminded her of the fallout from the last time she tried to have relationship with David Rossi.

When she told Hotch of her resolution to make Rossi prove his intentions and that this time, she would settle for no less than a real courtship, Hotch, being a dutiful friend, reminded her that the lack of courtship was as much her fault as Rossi's

He knew the effect his words would have and tempered their sting with the disclaimer about not wanting to see her hurt again. Lisa knew he was looking out for her. He said the words her own brothers would say, if she'd chosen to actually tell them about it.

Tempered with caring or not, Hotch's words stayed with her, eating at her resolve. Sure she'd created the rules and he was living up to them very well. But it wasn't that she was taking advantage of him. She'd pulled him back from excess, reminding him that where spending money on her was very nice, he didn't always have to come up with grand schemes like their spa weekend.

His efforts were working and she felt her iron will beginning to bend. Still, she wasn't ready to totally give in. Not yet.

XXXXX

"Another scotch, Dave?" Hotch asked, holding up his empty glass.

"I think I'm switching to water," Rossi replied, casting his eyes to the dance floor for just a moment. "No use in both of us being totally lit tonight."

Hotch nodded, fully understanding Rossi's subtle reference. "She is definitely on her way there," he laughed. Having spent a few drunken nights with Lisa himself, albeit platonic ones, Hotch knew what a handful she could be. "Good luck with that."

"Yeah," Rossi nodded, "The trick will be getting her out of here before she's past the point of no return."

"Getting who out of here?" Reid asked, stepping up to the bar.

"Rossi's latest conquest," Morgan grinned, stepping up behind Reid. "Reid, you are watching a master in action."

"There will be no conquests for me tonight, Gentlemen," he said, picking up his glass of water and taking a sip.

"You're going home alone?" Morgan went on, clearly having had a few drinks of his own.

"I didn't say that," Rossi returned with a smart smile.

Reid looked between the men and said, "There's something unfair about you guys. Women flock to you."

Hotch laughed and threw up his hands in mock protest, "Leave me out of that one!"

"Can I help it if the ladies know a good thing when they see it?" Morgan said, his mock bravado turning to laughter once the words left his lips.

"What's your secret, Rossi?" Reid asked, only partially joking.

Rossi thought for a moment, and then said, "I'm smooth, like a fine, aged scotch…" Noticing that Reid was hanging on his every word, Rossi cracked a broad smile, "Don't take notes, Kid. I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. But trust me, my luck once I get them sucks."

"Hey," Morgan said, getting their attention, "Don't look now but there is one fine looking cougar coming this way."

"What's a cougar?" Reid asked, clearly confused.

"A good looking older woman," Hotch explained, watching as a petite, very attractive redhead walked towards them.

"That's no cougar," Rossi said, "That's my ex wife!" He stood up as the redhead walked up to him.

"David Rossi, you old fool. What are you doing here?" the woman said, with a fond smile.

"Having a drink, the same as you, you vile woman," he returned, as they hugged. "How the hell are you, Deb? What are you doing in DC?"

"Nursing convention," she replied, studying him. "I wondered if I'd run into you down here."

"Don't need to wonder any longer," he laughed.

Deb finally pulled her eyes from her ex husband and took in the men standing around him. "Who are the rest of these good looking men?"

Morgan held out his hand and with a charming smile said, "Derek Morgan."

Deb smiled as he took her hand and kissed it. "A gentleman," she mused, then looked at Rossi, "You could take notes from this one, Dave." She turned back to Morgan, "Pleased to meet you, Derek. I'm Deborah Chambers, better known as the second ex-Mrs. David Rossi. But my friends call me Deb."

"Pleased to meet you, Deb," he returned.

Deb turned to Reid and smiled, "And you are?"

"Reid," he stammered, "Spencer Doctor… Doctor Spencer Reid."

"Doctor? Wow…and you're a cutie, too," Deb winked, finally turning towards Hotch. She fixed her dark blue eyes on him and smiled, "Oh, I can tell you're FBI. They should put you on the recruiting poster. What's your name, Handsome?"

"Aaron Hotchner," he returned with a smile, taking her outstretched hand and giving it a business like shake.

"Damn, Dave, they sure don't make Feds like they used to," she laughed, turning back to him. "So, what have you been up to?"

"Believe it or not, I've rejoined the Bureau."

"I knew you couldn't stay away."

"What can I say?" he shrugged.

With a devilish smile, she asked, "Well? Is there a fourth Mrs. Rossi yet?"

Rossi laughed at her question, "Deb, I told you, I've sworn off of marriage."

"Until the next one comes along," she snorted, "Come on, I'll let you buy me a drink."

Jealousy is the effect of guilt of ones own mishaps.Robert Nellums

"Don't look now, but Rossi's picking up," Emily snickered, causing Lisa and Garcia to snap their heads towards the bar. "That was really subtle, Ladies," she laughed, shaking her head.

"He's buying her a drink!" Garcia grinned.

"And she's got her hand on his knee," Emily went on.

"Wow," Lisa said, playing along with them, despite the sick feeling that grew in the pit of her stomach, "He moves fast."

"This is too good to pass up," Emily said, "I'm going in for a closer look." She walked over to the bar, leaving Lisa and Garcia on the dance floor.

"You okay, Ginger Snap?" Garcia knowingly asked.

Playing it cool, Lisa looked at her friend, "I'm fine, Pen. Why wouldn't I be?"

Garcia grabbed her by the arm and led her from the dance floor back to the area near the bathrooms. "Okay, now that I don't have to scream over the music… you are not okay with this."

"Pen, what possible difference would it make to me if Rossi picks up?"

"I don't know, Lisa, you tell me," she went on. "Those pretty green eyes of yours were just about shooting flames at him…" A look of understanding formed on Garcia's face. "You're crushing on him, aren't you?"

Thinking fast, but not wanting to tell her friend a lie, Lisa said, "Remember the guy I told you about?"

"You've told me about a couple of guys," Garcia returned, "Want to narrow it down?"

"THE guy," she repeated, watching as her blonde friend finally understood.

"Rossi was the married man?" Garcia asked, clearly shocked, "No!"

Lisa nodded.

"Oh, Darling, that explains so much of your behavior since he showed up." She patted Lisa's arm. "Do you want to leave? I can go get your purse."

"No," Lisa said, jealousy giving way to indignance as she wondered what would possess him to do something so stupid as to pick up right in front of her. "The day David Rossi makes me leave a bar is the day I hang it up."

"What are you going to do?" she asked, knowing Lisa had to be plotting something.

"Go over and introduce myself to his new friend?" she asked, with a grin.

"Oooh, this I have to see!" Garcia chortled, following Lisa across the room.

XXXXX

"So, there's really no fourth Mrs. Rossi? Deb asked, finding it hard to believe.

Rossi shrugged, noticing that Hotch, Reid, and Morgan had turned their attentions elsewhere. They were still; however, close enough to pick up on the conversation, so he chose his words carefully. "You got me, Deb. I am seeing someone."

His ex-wife smiled, "I knew it! What's she like? Wait, let me guess. She's 21, tall, blonde and a runway model."

Rossi laughed, "Deb, I'm not getting any younger. 21?"

"Oh, okay," Deb continued, playfully, "She's a 25 year old blonde runway model."

"Actually," he returned with a wry smile. "She's a redhead."

Deb shook her head and teasingly said, "Once you have a red head, you never go back."

"Ah, yes, but she's a true red head," he winked.

"Oh, I'm wounded; you're giving away my secrets! So, where did you meet this one?" she asked.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rossi noticed Lisa and Garcia walking across the dance floor. Lisa was taking long purposefully strides, and although she wore a smile, the flash of her eyes told him all was not well in Lisa-ville. The truly evil smile on Garcia's face as she walked double time to keep up with her, confirmed his suspicions. Lisa was not happy.

As he contemplated what could be the cause of Lisa's displeasure, she stepped up next to him. The bar was crowded, so she had to stand close, but she purposely pressed her side against his, closer than necessary. Instead of turning to speak to him, she leaned her elbows on the bar, flashing the bartender a healthy dose of cleavage and fixing the man with a sexy smile.

"What can I get you, Gorgeous?" the burly, blonde bartender asked.

"A shot of Jack with a beer back," Lisa purred.

The bartended didn't pull his eyes from Lisa for a moment, as he poured her a shot of Jack Daniels and set it down in front of her.

Lisa picked up the shot and downed it quickly, setting the glass back onto the bar and smiling.

"That looked so good going down, I'm gonna set you up with another," Blond and Burly smiled, refilling her glass, then walking off to get her beer.

Rossi leaned in close and in a quiet voice asked, "What are you doing?"

"I could ask you the same question," she returned, fixing him with a narrow eyed stare. "Who's your friend?"

Rossi laughed, "Friend? Not quite. This is my ex wife." Leaning back, he made the introductions, "Deb Chambers, Lisa O'Reilly."

"Another redhead!" Deb grinned, shaking Lisa's hand. With a knowing smile, she asked, "And how do you know Dave?"

"We work together," Lisa returned, sizing up the petite red head. She stood barely five feet tall, but with her big blue eyes and deep red hair, she had a larger presence. She was a very beautiful woman and Lisa decided that Deb and Rossi made one hell of an attractive couple.

Deb nodded, "They keep making these profilers prettier and prettier, Dave. Did you have something to do with this?"

"Unfortunately, Deb, she's an ex-profiler," he said, with a wink. "She jumped ship to another unit."

"Dave, you mean you chased off another good looking red head?" she teased.

"If you only knew," Lisa laughed.

XXXXX

"How weird is it that I like your ex-wife?" Lisa laughed as they drove along Route 1 North. "Although, I can see why she's your ex…" She turned her eyes towards him, finding him staring out at the road, his jaw set, his eyes dark. She'd seen that look before. He was pissed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he responded, the word coming out short and rough.

"No, that's not a "nothing" look. Spill it, Dave. You're pissed about something."

Stopping at a red light, he turned to look at her. When he spoke, his voice was a low rumble. "You honestly thought I was hitting on another woman?"

"That's what this is about?" she asked, surprised at his reaction. Back at the bar, they'd actually had a good laugh about it. She thought the issue had been resolved. She was wrong. "I jumped to conclusions, I was wrong."

"No shit," he spat, as the light turned green and he returned his attention to the road.

"You're really pissed at me," she said, watching as his hands gripped the wheel.

"I'll get over it," he shrugged.

Angered by the way he was shutting down; she reached out and placed her hand on his arm. "So you're just going to shut me out? You're not even going to talk about it?"

"I cannot talk to you about this while I'm driving."

Without a second thought, she shot, "Well then pull the hell over."

Jerking the wheel, Rossi pulled the car onto the wide gravel shoulder and put it into park.

"What the hell?" she began, startled by his actions.

"You're damn right, I'm pissed," he began, turning to look at her. "And yes, it's because you thought I was picking Deb up."

"You bought her a drink, she was touching you, she hugged you," she explained, "How was I supposed to react to that?"

"You were supposed to give me the benefit of a doubt," he seethed. "Jesus-fricking-Christ. I've been knocking myself out for the past two months just trying to chip at that God Damned fortress you've built around your heart. Do you honestly think I'd throw all of that work away for some strange piece of ass?"

She found herself unable to speak, surprised by the depth of his emotion. Finally, she shot back, "Given our track record, I wasn't sure what you'd do."

"Come on, Lisa. That's all you can come up with? Since that first night back in Ohio, I've been paying for sins we both committed ten years ago and paying dearly but still you don't trust me?"

"Sins we both committed?"

"Yes, both of us," he went on, clearly on a roll, "You told me I didn't court you, that I didn't go out of my way for you and you know what? I didn't, but you sure as shit went along with it. Never once did you complain about any lack of romance. You were just as adept at arranging the adjoining hotel rooms and room service dinners as I was. So, it wasn't all my fault."

Lisa looked at him, stunned by his accusations. Not because he'd falsely accused her, but because it was true. "Oh, so it's all my fault now, huh?" she shot back.

"We were both at fault," he allowed, then slammed his hand onto the dash board and growled, "Damnit, Lisa, what the hell else do I have to do to prove to you that I love you? The whole frigging world can see it, but you."

Lisa wished she didn't have so much to drink. She wanted to say something intelligent, to give him some perfect response, but all she could come up with was, "You love me?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but stopped, clearly rethinking his words. "I do," he said, his voice softening, "I love you and it scares the hell out of me because I have never gone this out of my way for a woman. Never."

Lisa tried in vain to hold back a smile.

"So you tell me," he said, his posture relaxing a bit, showing that the worst of the storm was over. "Am I wasting my time here? Are you ever going to let me in? What is it that you want me to do?"

"You just did it," she replied.

"Don't speak in Cryptic, Little Girl, I'm too far gone for that."

"I asked you to court me and you have," she explained. "I hope you never stop, because you know what? I love it, I love every bit of it, the attention, the dates, the romance. I don't expect it every day, but I don't ever want to lose it."

"I don't either," he admitted, with a soft smile.

"I'm glad to hear it," she returned the smile. "I also asked you to prove to me that you care, that you really love me. And you did…just now."

"Arguing with you showed you that I love you?" he tiredly said.

"That display of emotion, Dave," she returned, "The fact that you argued with me and in the middle of it all, when your emotions were totally raw and honest, you told me that you love me."

He shook his head and smiled at her, "You are unlike any other woman I've ever met, you do know that, don't you?"

Lisa smiled back at him, "And that's why you stepped up for Round Two." She leaned forward and kissed him softly. "Take me home, Dave."