A/N: This story is written for the Chit Chat on Author's Corner Fanfic Challenge 2010 – Round 2.

Pairing: Rossi/Prentiss

Prompt: 28 Days Later (Movie Title)

The story is set shortly after the events in Demonology.

Thank you all for your great response to this story! The reviews, alerts and favorites really made my day.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Criminal Minds. I'm just playing a little :)


Chapter 2 - 14 Days Later

She couldn't get the events of that night out of her mind. No matter how hard she tried to block it out, she still saw John Cooley tied to that bed with that horrible man – she couldn't call him a priest in the quiet of her own mind – bending over him, torturing him … all in the name of perverted religion.

It was now fourteen days later, but the events were still there, an endless film reel on autoplay. She was sure that that was part of the reason she had ignored the couple of attempts John had made to get in touch with her after that night. She just couldn't deal with seeing him, afraid that all her horror would be laid bare for him to see. She also couldn't handle seeing John because she was afraid that she'd look at him and he would see in her face her wish that it was Matthew who had lived. Instead.

Emily Prentiss sat alone at the far end of the dimly lit bar. She'd arrived alone, begging off JJ and Garcia's 'Girls Night In'. She intended to leave alone too. This was not a night for picking someone up. She was in no mood to play nice with anyone, and anyone that she met in a bar that she wouldn't have to play nice with before she went home with them was just a little more danger than she was willing to deal with tonight. She might be screwed up right now, but she wasn't stupid.

Apparently her intentions were very clearly written on her scowling face and in her tensed posture. No one had even attempted to pick her up tonight. That was essentially a very, very good thing. If she actually had to say the words 'Fuck off' tonight, she would quite probably get herself arrested – and dealing with Hotch at all these days was a pain. Having to call him from a jail cell would suck … in a really bad way.

A few more minutes of solitary drinking later, Prentiss looked up and caught the eye of the female bartender. She tilted her almost empty glass in the woman's direction and was rewarded with a thumbs-up and a perky grin. By the time Prentiss was looking into the bottom of her glass, the vivacious little brunette bartender was there with her fresh drink. Prentiss eyed the other woman speculatively as the latter collected the empty glass and wiped down the bar.

The girl – Candy, according to her nametag, though it most likely wasn't even her real name – looked barely old enough to drink, much less to tend bar. Still, she was cute … and rather hot in her black leather shorts and vest outfit. Prentiss bet herself that the girl was wearing boots at least knee high, black to complement the outfit. She'd check it out when the girl walked away. She'd probably look damn good in the boots alone.

When she realized the direction in which her thoughts were heading, Emily knew that she was on her last drink of the night. Definitely. Not that she had a problem picking up a woman – she didn't. She was comfortably bisexual, though she tended more towards men, and a woman might have been a better choice for tonight anyway.

It wasn't that at all. It was the fact that if she was drunk enough to still contemplate a random hook up on a night when she knew she was so not in the place for that, then she needed to get out of there before she screwed up royally and got herself into some real trouble.

She paid her tab and left the bar. The six drinks of scotch she'd had certainly didn't show in her walk as she made a beeline for the exit. She had had Candy call her a cab, which should be waiting outside. Knowing that she had planned to get plastered tonight, she hadn't bothered to drive.

She wasn't in any mood to go home yet though. It was too early. While she might have been too drunk to make smart decisions, she wasn't drunk enough to crash and sleep off the rotten feeling. Before she could analyze, or worse yet, second guess her decision, she gave the cab driver an address and leaned back, determined not to think for the duration of the ride.


For the second straight Friday night, David Rossi answered a knock at his door to find Emily Prentiss standing on his doorstep. Two things were different tonight though. The first was that from the taillights disappearing down the driveway, she'd taken a cab instead of driving herself. The second was that, unless he'd lost all ability as a profiler, and general observer of people, Prentiss was – just a little – drunk.

It was the look on her face that caught at his heart however. She was trying for her tough, FBI Agent, don't fuck with me look, but was failing miserably. The thing was, he wasn't sure she knew it.

Wordlessly, he stepped back to allow her in, taking her jacket again in a weird replay of a week ago. This time however, she didn't bother to look at the room, so was staring directly at him when he turned from hanging up her coat. The white button down shirt she wore with her jeans made her look vulnerable – innocent almost. A look that was unusual for the normally in-control Emily Prentiss.

As he watched, her hands went to the top button of the shirt and she began to undo it. The action caused him to jump and set off two simultaneous reactions – a pounding in his chest and a tightening in his groin.

"Emily …"

"Don't 'Emily' me." Her hands stilled on the second button, but she didn't move them.

Rossi took the few steps necessary for him to stand in front of her. He reached up and took her hands in his, bringing them down, away from her shirt buttons. His tenderness brought the tears unbidden to her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was low and defenseless and she could not meet his eyes.

"Please, David. It's more than just needing human contact. I just need to feel safe tonight."

"I make you feel safe?" Rossi was astounded. Of everything she could have said, he didn't expect that.

The evident surprise in his gravelly voice made her look up, and she blushed then, at the distinct heat in his dark eyes.

"Always." She shrugged her shoulders as she spoke, but he knew the response was anything but casual.

It was a lost cause anyway, he knew that. There was nothing he could refuse Emily Prentiss. She had his heart firmly in her grasp, even though she had no idea. It didn't matter that all she wanted was this one night, while he could easily ask for forever. Nothing mattered but that she needed something and he could provide it.

He released her hands as he said quietly, looking directly into her eyes.

"In that case, Cara Mia, allow me." He raised his hands to her shirt to finish the job.


A/N: Would really love to know what you all think.