Surprise
"There is no surprise more magical than the surprise of being loved." ~Charles Morgan
April 2013. Quantico, Virginia.
After her impetuous hallway lip-lock with David, Erin told herself that she wouldn't be so ridiculous again. She was a grown woman, fifty-fucking-four years old and far past the excuse of raging hormones and a still-developing prefrontal lobe, a professional woman who would not and could not devolve into a love-struck idiot, looking for excuses to stop by David's office or grabbing him and kissing him in doorways and shadows.
She was fairly certain that her 90-day stint in detox had been easier to bear than the constant battle she waged against her own foolish impulses when it came to David Rossi.
Luckily (or perhaps unluckily, depending on how you looked at it), David seemed to be suffering from the same symptoms. It was as if all the things that they hadn't allowed themselves to feel for the past two decades had suddenly come to a boil, and now those emotions and sensations were boiling over the top, completely drowning them both in a fiery deluge.
It was only his first day back in the office after the case in Plainfield, and he'd already stopped by her office to "drop off the action reports", which ended with her pressed up against her credenza hutch, his mouth locked onto hers as his hands appreciated the delicate details of her silk blouse (she'd threatened him within an inch of his life if he mussed up her immaculate outfit, and he'd merely grinned), followed by her "innocently" rubbing against him in the elevator as she moved over to allow several other Bureau employees to board. During a briefing, she'd pretended to pay rapt attention to Garcia, leaning over slightly more than necessary so that he got a clear view down the front of her blouse (which he'd so admired earlier that morning), and as they were all filing out of the conference room, his hand had swiped the curve of her ass, so lightly that no one else noticed, but she'd had to bite her lip and think of very serious things to keep from blushing and giving away their little game.
They were behaving like a pair of horny teenagers. It was embarrassing and completely unprofessional, and yet, they couldn't seem to help themselves. In all the years, in all the strange twists and turns that their relationship had taken, they'd never been physically affectionate, aside from the few brief nights in hotel rooms, and it was something new, something strange and exciting and scary and wonderful.
The day was over and they were both in the elevator, on their way home (David filled with the sneaking suspicion that she'd stayed late just to be able to leave at the same time as he did). There were other occupants in the elevator car, as usual, but David reached for her hand, so naturally and so casually that it stirred yet another wave of warm happiness in the pit of Erin's stomach as she felt the firm grip of his fingers encasing her smaller hand. She blushed slightly, which he noticed and thought was thoroughly adorable. She looked up, those light eyes latching onto those dark ones, and for the rest of the elevator ride, they were in their own little world.
They stopped holding hands as they exited the elevator, though they still walked together to Erin's vehicle.
"We are ridiculous," she said calmly, though there was still a smile playing at the corner of her lips.
"Do you want to stop?"
"Nope."
"Good." He looked around casually, making sure the coast was clear, before pulling her closer to him again. She turned her face up to his expectantly, and he could feel her smiling against his mouth when he kissed her.
"You know there are security cameras out here," she whispered, not looking too concerned.
"I'm sure they've seen more scandalous things," he assured her.
"Is that a challenge?" Her voice dipped into a purr, and the knowing smirk on her delicious thin lips was enough to make David want to throw her in the backseat of her crossover.
"It could be," he returned in a low tone, pulling her hips into his as his mouth found its favorite resting place—the pulse point at the base of her neck.
She gave a chuckle, which devolved into a hum as David Rossi's magical mouth began to set her skin on fire.
Her cell phone rang, jarring them both back into reality. He pulled back, giving her room to move as she fumbled through her purse, finally finding her cell. She gave a light sigh when she saw her daughter's name on the caller ID, "Yes, Anna Claire, I'm on my way home now."
Anna apparently made some saucy retort, because Erin merely rolled her eyes heavenward. David chuckled, leaning forward to kiss the tip of her nose. She gently traced the curve of his jaw as they silently said goodnight. He turned and headed towards his car, feeling the heat of Erin's gaze following him as he walked away.
"Yes. Now. I'm at my car right now." She opened the car door and tossed her purse across the cab and into the passenger seat. Turning to give one last look over her shoulder, her eyes found David, across the parking garage, at his own car. He looked up, smiling softly at her. She returned the smile, her mind suddenly wondering how on earth she was going to survive tomorrow without ending up sprawled across her desk or some other inanimate object with a certain dark, handsome man who could stop her heart with a single glance.
Penelope Garcia rubbed her weary eyes before turning her attention back to the screen, "OK, so the wooded area where Bristol Evatt's body was found is now an outlet mall."
"Then we can take her off the list," Reid informed her. "Our UNSUB can't replicate the crime if the setting has changed too much."
"That still leaves us with five locations," the technical analyst pointed out.
"And no idea what we're looking for at any of them," Reid added tiredly. Garcia's lair was dark and warm, which didn't help the sleepiness creeping into his bones. He glanced back down at the list of names and coordinates. He'd wracked his brain trying to find some kind of pattern between the geographic points, some connection between the women themselves, but all to no avail. Every hour that ticked by increased the sinking feeling that he was failing this test, that he was missing some obvious detail, that his ineptitude was costing his team valuable time.
The phone next to Garcia's computer rang, and she answered, hitting the speakerphone button, "Garcia the Great and Fabulous at your service."
"Why are you still here?" Hotch's voice came across the line.
"Because I am slowly becoming a member of the tribe of the undead, sir."
"Go home. And tell Reid to go home, too. You've done enough today, get some sleep and start over with fresh eyes in the morning. That's an order." Hotch hung up without another word.
Garcia looked back at the young doctor, "Have you ever wondered how he just knows these things?"
Reid shrugged, "I've always had a theory that he's part superhuman."
"He would make a good Clark Kent," her eyes lit up at the thought. "I think I know what I'm gonna get him to dress up as for Hallowe'en."
"I can't imagine Hotch dressing up for Hallowe'en," Spencer admitted. "Not even as a kid."
Garcia hummed in agreement, frowning as she tried to picture Aaron Hotchner as a child. But she was tired and her imagination had been taxed too much during the day, so she gave up with a slight shake of her head, standing to gather her things, "Come, my good doctor—the time has come to talk of other things, of shoes and ships and ceiling wax—"
"Of cabbages and kings," Spencer finished with a small smile, his frustration at his lack of progress temporarily relieved by Penelope's whimsy.
The blonde leaned forward with a grin, prompting, "And why the sea is boiling hot…"
"And whether pigs have wings," he added, his own smile deepening as his friend hooked her arm through his and led him out into the hallway.
"I have faith in you, you know," she said it so breezily, so nonchalantly that Reid knew it must be true. "I have faith in all my little profiling geniuses. We'll get this creep, my friend. We'll get this guy, and it will all be over. We'll all live happily ever after, end of story."
Spencer didn't have the heart to correct her, or to point out that fairy tales were just that—vain hopes and empty promises, the quiet desperations of times long ago and people long forgotten. He found himself hoping that just once, just this once, logic and probability wouldn't win out.
Vienna, Virginia.
"Did you remember to pack your retainer?" Erin called up the stairs as she finished tidying up the kitchen.
She heard Anna groan, "I don't see why I still have to wear it—it's been years since I got my braces off—"
"Because I spent thousands of dollars on that beautiful smile of yours, and I won't have it ruined simply because you're too vain to wear a retainer in your sleep," Erin shot back.
"I'm not gonna wear this stupid thing for the rest of my life—"
"But you are going to wear it as long as I'm the one still paying for your dental hygiene."
There was a grumble from the upstairs bedroom.
"What was that?"
"Nothing, Mother."
Erin simply shook her head in exasperation, turning on the dishwasher before scooping up the cat, who'd been patiently waiting at her feet.
"I should've just stuck to pets," she murmured to the feline. "You're much less expensive, and you still let me cuddle with you."
The cat purred in response as Erin scratched behind his ears. Her cell phone buzzed, skittering across the dark granite countertop as it vibrated. Situating the cat so that she held him with one hand, she reached for her cell with the other. She didn't recognize the number, but she answered anyways, "Erin Strauss."
"Erin. It's Ralph. Ralph Richardson."
"Ralph!" Erin beamed in surprise.
"I'm sorry to call so late—"
"Oh, it's not late at all."
"This was the number that Penelope Garcia listed for the RSVP—"
"Oh, for David's surprise party." Erin suddenly understood. "Does that mean you'll be here?"
"I wouldn't miss it for the world."
"That's great, Ralph." Erin was grinning madly now. "I know David will be thrilled to see you."
"How's he doing?" Ralph's voice was filled with gentle concern.
"He's good," Erin lost her grin. "His birthday is never easy, not since Yates was caught—"
"Yeah, I heard about that. Pretty twisted." Ralph sighed. "But if anyone can deal with that kind of pressure, it's David Rossi."
She gave a small hum of agreement, although deep down, she knew the truth—David couldn't deal with it any better than the next person, he simply shielded his true reaction from everyone else, hiding the pain and the sorrow and bravely shouldering the burden, because he never wanted to be a nuisance by showing that he was human and in need of others' support. But that was part of the secret side of David Rossi, the part that only she got to see, and like David, she was finding that she was quite covetous when it came to the memories and little truths between them.
"Well, I know it's late," Ralph spoke again. "But I wanted to let you know that I'll be there."
"Great. Can't wait to see you, Ralph."
"Take care, Erin."
She ended the call, smiling softly as she mentally checked another name off the list—with Penelope's help, she'd tracked down as many of David's old Bureau buddies as she could, and they'd sent out emails inviting them to come to Virginia to surprise David the night before his birthday. Erin would have preferred surprising him on his actual birthday, but since he almost always set out to inform the victim's family as soon as he received the name, it was practically impossible to plan such a thing.
"You're planning a surprise party for David Rossi?" The sound of Anna's voice nearly made Erin jump out of her skin.
"Jesus, child," she clutched the poor cat to her chest, who meowed in protest. "Are you trying to give your mother a heart attack?"
"I thought he was just a colleague," her daughter would not be deterred.
"You're gonna be late—you know your dad gets worried when you drive so late at night," Erin set down the cat, turning her attention to her daughter.
"You know what we call that, Mom? Avoidance." Anna handed her mother another bag to carry out to her car.
"I'm not avoiding anything, Anna. I'm just not discussing this with you. Not now." Erin walked down the hall and into the garage.
"But you aren't denying anything, either."
"Nor am I confirming anything." Erin opened the trunk of her daughter's car and tossed the bag in. "He's just a friend."
"Well, that's a step up from colleague. Looks like Agent Rossi is on the fast-track."
This earned Anna a dark look from her mother. Still, she wasn't daunted.
"You know, Dad never tries to hide his dates."
Erin fought back a wave of irritation at her daughter for playing the 'Dad Never Does' card. "I'm not hiding anything, Anna, because there's nothing to hide. At least not yet."
"So you're saying there might be something to hide in the future?" Anna asked hopefully, tossing her backpack in the trunk and shutting it.
"I don't know."
"How do you not know?" The teen was incredulous. "You obviously like him, and he totally has the hots for you—"
"What makes you say that?" Erin asked, trying to keep the curious note from her voice and failing.
"Mom," Anna gave a knowing grin. "When he was following you up the stairs, he was totally scoping out your ass—"
"Anna Claire!"
"What? It's true. You asked; I told the truth."
"I love you," Erin kissed her daughter's forehead. "Now go to your father's house, before I have to hurt you."
The teen just grinned, wrapping her mother into a hug. "I'll text you when I get there."
"Good girl."
"I love you, Mom," Anna hopped in the front seat of her little Honda Civic, flashing her mother one last smile as she added, "And don't wait too long to figure out what's going on between you two. You're not getting any younger, ya know."
"When you say things like that, you make me feel blessed to have endured all nineteen hours of labor to bring you into this world," Erin returned drolly. This earned her another impish grin from her youngest offspring, who started the car and backed out of the drive way, giving one last wave as she headed off to spend the week with her father.
Erin wrapped her arms around herself, taking a moment to stare up at the stars. She didn't want to go back inside, to an empty house and a quiet bed. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought that soon, perhaps she wouldn't be spending her weeks without Anna alone—perhaps she'd have someone else to sit on the patio with, talking under the stars or cooking or making love or reading side-by-side or one of the other thousands of small intimacies that came with being in a relationship. However, it wasn't the little moments that she anticipated—it was the sheer fact that they would be spent with one man, a man who'd patiently waited for her love, whom she'd patiently waited to love. Once the Replicator was caught (she had no doubt he would be, such was her whole-hearted faith in the BAU), she would have to finally share the ugly dark truth with David about what really happened the first time in Seattle, and she felt with a certain sense of dreaded predestination that it would effectively end everything between them. So until then, she would drink long and deeply from the cup of love. It was a scary decision, to commit to diving fully into whatever strange whirlpool of emotions that lay just beneath the surface of her relationship with David, knowing it could never last, but at the same time, she felt oddly proud of herself. Erin Strauss was not a risk-taker, in love or any other aspect of life, and yet, here she was, carpe'ing the freaking diem, as her brother Andrew was so fond of saying.
Right now, all of her energy and focus was going into David's birthday celebrations. There were still a few loose ends that needed to be tied up, but she was certain that she could accomplish her mission without arousing David's suspicions. He might be a master profiler of human behavior, but she was a master of distraction—based on their brief-but-heated encounters throughout the day, she was pretty sure that she could keep David Rossi too preoccupied to notice anything else.
Quantico, Virginia.
"It's less than 2 hours away, so we'll be taking cars instead of the plane," Hotch finished the briefing, rising to his feet as he dismissed his agents. "Grab your things and meet at the motor pool in twenty minutes."
"Agent Hotchner," Erin Strauss called softly as she moved around the table—she'd sat in on the briefing this morning, being oddly quiet as she'd listened to the team discuss their newest case, a kidnapping in southern Virginia.
Hotch turned to her and she made a slight motion towards his office, "May I have a word with you?"
He simply nodded and headed towards the door, knowing that she was right behind him. Once they were inside his office and the door was closed, he asked quietly, "What can I do for you, Erin?"
"Well, it's more about what you can do for Agent Rossi," she admitted, and Hotch felt a slight wave of unease. Noting his hesitancy, she quickly added, "It's for his birthday. Penelope Garcia is already helping me plan a bit of a surprise for him, but we're going to need your help, too."
Hotch would have been less surprised if Erin Strass had produced a chainsaw and hacked his desk in twain. Over the years, Aaron had come to see a softer side of his section chief, but planning a surprise birthday party still seemed too…pedestrian…for the cool and polished Erin.
"Agent Hotchner?" The gentle cadence of her voice brought him back to reality.
"I would be happy to help," he answered quickly.
"Good," she gave a small smile of relief. She informed him of the role that she needed him to play in their little charade, giving him one last Strauss Specialty Ice Glare before she left, adding, "I expect you to be the soul of discretion, Agent Hotchner. I expect David Rossi to be truly and thoroughly surprised."
"I understand," he replied, understanding the silent threat behind Erin's expectations. He was still slightly amazed to see her using her Ice Queen powers for good. Two days ago, on the flight back from Plainfield, he'd quietly warned Dave about pursuing a relationship with Erin Strauss, because he feared it might be a one-sided thing (after all, his friend wasn't the most cautious or wisest when it came to his dealings with women). But in less than three minutes, Erin had proven that the playing field might actually be level when it came to the affection between her and Dave.
Stranger things had happened, Hotch knew that. But at the moment, he couldn't think of a single example.
May 2013. Vienna, Virginia.
Keeping David distracted for the next week had actually been easier than Erin had hoped—the team bounced from case to case, jetting around the country with only a day or two of down time. On the only evening that he had been in the office, they'd held hands in the elevator and made out in the parking garage like a pair of teenagers again. She'd wanted more than anything to ask him back to her place, but she'd summoned every ounce of self-control and kept her head (barely), because she wanted him to savor every second of anticipation—another part of her well-crafted birthday surprise, and gods be damned if she allowed her desire to ruin the plan.
She'd stayed on her toes, carefully scheduling her secret trips to Penelope Garcia's office to finish their plans—she'd let Aaron inform the rest of the team, and neither he nor Garcia were allowed to tell the others that Erin was the mastermind, because she still wasn't sure if David wanted anyone to know about their budding relationship, and she knew that not everyone would be delighted to attend a party hosted by the wicked bitch of the Bureau.
Several of David's former colleagues and old buddies had agreed to make the trip to Quantico, some hailing from Philadelphia, some from D.C., and even one from Florida. Erin was filled with childish glee at the thought that she was truly going to floor David Rossi tonight—in more ways than one.
She gave a slight grimace as she pulled at the underwire of her bra one last time, adjusting her dress in the mirror again. She'd gone out and gotten an entirely new set of lingerie for the occasion (it felt too strange, dressing up for David in things that she'd bought to please Paul), and her new bra lifted her breasts to heights that hadn't been attained in at least the last fifteen years. She felt a little ridiculous at first, but as soon as she slipped into her stilettos, her confidence returned. She appraised her ensemble in the full-length mirror, giving her reflection a devilish grin.
Watch out, David Rossi. I'm coming for you.
Quantico, Virginia.
David rubbed his forehead—a sure sign that he was irritated—as he closed the folder in his lap and set it back on Hotch's desk. Aaron had asked him to consult on an arson case in San Francisco, but honestly, it was so easy that the younger man could have handled it himself.
"We're glad to be of assistance," Hotch reassured the police chief on the other end of the line before hanging up. He glanced at his watch casually, and David thought he looked almost relieved.
"Anything else I can do for you?" David asked, his tone holding the slightest hint of sarcasm. "Perhaps help you catch up on your filing?"
"I thought it was going to be a more complex case," Hotch admitted easily. "I'm sorry if you feel that your time was wasted."
"It wasn't wasted," David assured him, suddenly feeling contrite. He'd been snappish all day, and he knew why, "It's just that tomorrow's the day I go see Yates, and you know how I get."
"I do," the younger man simply nodded in understanding. He also knew why David had requested the next day off—so that as soon as he received the name, he could track down the family. The next 24 hours were promising to be emotional and stressful for his friend, and Aaron was grateful for the fact that at least for the next two or three hours, Dave was going to be too distracted to think about it.
"If there's nothing else, I think I'm going to head home," David rose to his feet.
"Actually, I need you to have a look at one more case," Hotch replied, noting the exasperation in the older man's expression. "It won't take long. I left the file in the conference room—we can go over the details on the way to the elevators."
David simply nodded, following his friend across the landing to the conference room, whose door was oddly closed. As soon as Hotch opened the door, a chorus of voices belted out, "Surprise!"
David stood in the doorway, stunned by the sight that met his eyes. Aside from the BAU team, there were familiar faces around the conference table, which was covered in booze and food.
"What on earth?" He couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face.
"Buon Compleanno, Mio Amore," Garcia bounded up to him, planting a kiss on his cheek. "You didn't let us celebrate last year, so we decided to plan a little get-together to make up for it this time around."
He hugged her tightly, whispering his thanks before moving across the room to his old friends—Ralph Richardson, who still looked like a kid; Alan Arkaday, looking a little worse for wear but still victorious over his last bout of cancer; Rutherford Golden, still dashing and charming, like a new-age Clark Gable; Abigail Van Hals, smiling with her usual demure expression.
"What are you doing here?" He hugged each of them, taking a moment to look at them, these living pieces of his life and memory.
"Penelope tracked us down—she said she wanted to bring in all your buddies from back in the day," Ralph answered with a grin as he looked at the others. "I guess we're the last ones standing."
"The proud and the few," Abigail quipped with a wry salute.
David turned back to the technical analyst, "You really did all this?"
"Well, Erin was the one who gave me the names," Penelope answered, moving closer and handing him a Dixie cup of liquor. Over the past week, their secret planning meetings had removed the tension between the two blondes, and now Penelope found herself referring to the section chief by her first name (although never to her face, because Erin Strauss still held some sway over Penelope's fear reflex).
David suddenly noticed that the blonde section chief was absent, "Where is she?"
"She had a minor family emergency," Penelope supplied. "She sends her regrets and says that she hopes you have a wonderful time."
David nodded, trying not to let his disappointment show. Of course, his attention was quickly distracted by his old pals, who soon began peppering him with questions about his work and his life, and cracking jokes about his age, and proposing toasts to old memories and future endeavors.
Two hours later, he looked around the room, and the sight filled his heart with warmth—Abigail and Alex were seated side-by-side, catching up from their days together in Missouri; Ralph was cracking jokes with Penelope and Derek, while Alan was nodding, intently listening to Spencer expound the merits of some kind of new forensic procedure; JJ and Hotch were standing in the corner, chatting with Ruthie Golden. This was the strange family he'd cobbled together over the years spent in the Bureau, the ones who'd stuck around through thick and thin, the relationships that had outlived his marriages, the people who somehow restored his faith in humanity and his fervor for his work. The only thing wrong with this picture was that one person in particular was missing, and he was missing her.
He checked his watch, sighing as he remembered what a hard day lay ahead for him. With one last round of hugs and back-slaps and warm jokes and soft farewells, David Rossi left his own birthday party, a lovely new case of gentleman Jack under his arm (a collective gift from all his old colleagues, who all warmly remembered the days when he'd buy such things to celebrate the end of a case, and they'd all end up in his hotel room, drinking to a hard day's work).
The drive home was quiet as David smiled at the thought of how sweet Erin's surprise had been (Penelope had later confessed that it was all the older woman's idea). Again, he wished that she'd been there, so that he could thank her for the kindness. He knew that she was trying to give him something good to remember, something to help him through tomorrow, which undoubtedly would be one of the worst days of the year for him.
His headlights sliced through the darkness surrounding his house, and he could see the sleek outline of the black suburban which held his home security detail for the evening. He parked the car, bequeathed a bottle of whiskey to his two details (for later, of course, because they'd never drink on the job), and then made his way up the steps to his front door. He could hear the staccato pounding of Mudgie's paws on the wooden slats of the wrap-around porch, and he turned to see the lab rounding the corner of the house, giving an excited yip at the familiar sound of his master's voice. He opened the door, setting the case of whiskey down and taking a moment to rub the dog's head affectionately, talking softly to the lab before closing the door and turning on the foyer light.
He turned around and nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of Erin Strauss leaning against the dining room entryway. She looked like a modern Jackie O, in her navy double-breasted dress with a full pleated skirt, with her hair pulled back into a twist, as it had been all day at work. Her makeup was darker, the kohl around her eyes intensifying their cat-like appearance and turning them into burning beacons that could stop a man in his tracks with a single glance. She knew she'd surprised him, because her thin lips curled into a wicked smile and the light in her entrancing eyes twinkled with knowing amusement.
"Happy birthday, David."