Title: Temporary Distractions
Author: Scarlet
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Ship: Rossi/JJ
Rating: FRAO
Warnings: Blatant misuse of office furniture, unapologetically dirty thoughts, totally inappropriate adult situations and content, unforgivable smut. Enjoy.
Summary: David Rossi stays late at work, but he's not the only one...
Word Count: 2,756
Disclaimer: Still don't own Criminal Minds- That's probably in the characters' best interest anyway.
A/N: Wow. So I sit down to finish a JJ/Reid fic and I come up with this... I really have no idea where this came from, but I realized that I had yet to see any fanfiction that was Rossi-Centric or that had him shipped with anyone, so I thought I'd take it upon myself to give him his own fic. I know, I know, the writers haven't let us love him yet, but I couldn't stop myself. Also, this is my very first ever FRAO fic *blushes*, but in my writing-improvement-endeavour, I guess it had to be done. *hides in shame* There will be coal in my stocking this year.
ETA: Characterization based on new-to-the-team-and-not-well-liked pervy-Rossi.

David Rossi rolled a pen between his fingers as he lounged in his chair with yet another open case file on his desk.

Something about a triple homicide-- he couldn't really recall the details and had spent the last ten minutes reading the same line over again as his mind wandered.

His office had darkened to the point that he would normally consider turning on a lamp, but tonight it went unnoticed.

Tonight he was simply not in the mood for empathy or light or run-on sentences that made no coherent sense no matter how many times he read them. He glanced briefly at the corner of the page to locate the name of the author whose sloppy penmanship he was currently reviewing: Derek Morgan. Why didn't that surprise him?

He sighed inwardly.

Even the lack of normal office ambiance to assault his ears made no difference to him.

He could go home--it was well past work hours--but what would be the point? It would be just as empty as he had left it.

His left hand had wandered into his pocket and was unconsciously fingering the cold metal remnants of a broken promise; Ancient history that he kept revisiting every night in his dreams.

He couldn't think about that now. He refused.

Withdrawing his hand from his pocket, he attempted to distract himself again with the case file Agent Jareau had so politely requested he review for accuracy before it was submitted.

Honestly, the woman was a menace. It was the third time he'd been roped into this despite his better judgment. Besides, this sort of tedious task was Aaron Hotchner's specialty.

He often wondered what Jennifer was doing at the BAU when she could have conquered nations with that intoxicating smile and abundant charisma. Not that he was complaining.

She was by no means a burden to look at every day. That she had actually made it into the FBI based on intelligence and skill was a surprise to him, but only served to intrigue him more.

The icing on the cake of course, was Aaron's unspoken but blatantly implied rule that Jennifer was untouchable, and he should stay at least five feet away from her at all times unless supervised.

He chuckled to himself.

Ah yes, the forbidden fruit- it only ever served to deepen the temptation.

At first he honestly thought Aaron was just defending a claim to the little blonde, afraid of some competition, but he'd since discovered that his pseudo-superior regarded her with the kind of protectiveness a father may bestow upon his daughter.

It was a strange discovery, but not entirely unexpected considering the abnormal dynamics of this team. That, and the man obviously had issues.

David realized that he was likely a better candidate for the fatherly role than Aaron, considering the age difference, but such trivialities had ceased to bother him long ago.

Nonetheless, Aaron couldn't very well condemn him for his thoughts.

Was it his fault she wore flatteringly short skirts on Fridays or left that one extra button undone on her blouse? Or that her shirt would sometimes ride up when she slept on the plane, revealing a thin strip of creamy white skin beneath?

He could almost swear she did it on purpose.

Just watching her give press conferences was disturbingly arousing. She had such skill with speech that he often found himself wondering what other skills that talented mouth had.

He licked his lips reflexively; the scene had played out in his mind more than once.

Especially during the calmer briefings, when the whiteboard wasn't drenched in enough blood and sin to make him seriously consider converting to the eternal chastity of priesthood, where she'd relay information in front of the group in that sultry-sweet voice of hers. Her soft, painted lips parting between words and her chest rising slightly with every intake of breath, causing an almost imperceptible shift of golden hair against her shoulders... Sometimes that was enough to make him want nothing more than to drag her into Aaron's office, bend her over that obsessively tidy desk and--

--The sudden and unexpected sound of his office door opening caused him to jolt back to reality.

Momentarily stunned that the object of his current fantasy was standing in his doorway, he couldn't for the life of him think of an appropriate greeting.

Luckily she didn't seem to notice, but instead looked slightly flustered and embarrassed.

It was a rather becoming look on her.

"Oh! I'm so sorry- I didn't realize you were still here..." She paused a moment, before regaining her composure so quickly that he wasn't even sure she'd lost it in the first place. "I was just going to drop some files off for tomorrow morning," she explained with a soft smile, moving towards his desk.

Before he could reply or nod politely however, the lovely blonde managed to trip on a catch in the carpet and stumble a few steps as the files she had balanced on her arm toppled to the ground.

She muttered under her breath and apologized again, claiming fatigue and laughing it off, though he could have sworn he saw a faint blush on her cheeks.

Ever the gentleman, Rossi rose to assist her in gathering up the files.

She was still talking but he didn't mind the interruption to his silence as his new vantage point, crouched next to her on the floor, offered him an excellent view of her cleavage.

She didn't seem to notice his stare, so he didn't bother to stop himself.

Was that a front clasp bra she was wearing? What a vixen. A curtain of blonde hair blocked his view of her eyes as she sifted through some papers, but truth be told, it wasn't her eyes he was currently interested in.

His hand brushed against hers when she reached for the last file folder and he purposely made no attempt to pull away. She paused for only a second before casually taking the folders from him and moving to stand up.

She turned away from him momentarily, taking two folders from her pile and placing them gingerly on his desk.

He took the opportunity to move close behind her, his reason abandoning him as a sudden onslaught of lust and desire took over. The whole look but don't touch technique had never been a strong skill of his.

As soon as she turned around she gasped in surprise at finding him so overtly invading her personal space.

A calm control washed over her features as she regarded him apprehensively. When she didn't attempt to push him away, he closed the small distance between them with a single step forward, until he'd effectively pinned her between his body and the large oak desk behind her.

He had definitely broken the five-foot rule.

It felt glorious.

Jennifer's breath caught at the feel of his arousal pressed hard against her thigh. Her eyes immediately darted to his, conveying a delicious mixture of panic, embarrassment and surprise, yet he detected something deeper within their blue depths that he couldn't quite place a name to.

She seemed to suddenly snap out of a daze and the panic in her eyes took over.

She still made no attempt to move, but rather allowed her glance to stray to the remaining files in her hand, "I need to, um..."

The corners of his mouth lifted in a slightly self-satisfied smirk at having been able to render the great, chronically in-control Jennifer Jareau into speechlessness.

He held eye contact with her as he wrapped one hand a little too tightly around her upper left arm, and with the other took the offending files and set them off to the side on the desk behind her.

His words came out raspier and deeper than he had heard them in a long time, "It can wait."

His eyes dared her to move, to push him away and tell him to stop.

He fully expected her to. Dave knew he'd crossed the line and deserved the slap he would undoubtedly soon receive, yet it didn't come.

She was perfectly, almost serenely, still.

He should have known she'd never back down from a challenge. He wouldn't make the mistake of underestimating the young agent again.

He took the opportunity of her silence without further hesitation and pulled her roughly to him until his lips were pressed against hers. She tasted just as he'd imagined; Sugar and spice.

Very fitting.

It wasn't near enough to satisfy though, and when he felt her lips relax under his he deepened the kiss, entwining his fingers into that golden hair and all but demanding submission.

The kiss was fierce and desperate and exactly what he needed. He was pleasantly surprised when he felt her hand on the back of his neck, drawing him even closer.

He didn't know exactly why she didn't push him away; why she was letting him use her like this.

Maybe she was looking for the same solace as he was. Suddenly he felt a little used. It was a strangely pleasant feeling.

Though, he reasoned as best as his lust-clouded mind could, they were in an empty government office after hours--Jason Gideon's old office no less, he was her colleague, her superior... He had to have hit a kink somewhere.

When she moaned into his mouth, he could feel it reverberate throughout his body. He tightened his grip on her hair with one hand and slid the other from its position around her arm gradually down her body, landing on her hip. His fingers made their way instinctively under the hem of her navy blue blouse and ran across the skin there.

The heat of her body pressed against his burned like sin and he couldn't help feeling a bit over-dressed for the weather.

Moving his hand further up the soft expanse of skin beneath her blouse, he found himself hindered in his exploration by the stiff cotton material. Never one to admit defeat, Dave immediately began working the buttons, without ever breaking the kiss--experience having enhanced his efficiency.

It wasn't until his need for oxygen outweighed his new found passion for the feeling of her tongue in his mouth that he pulled away.

It suddenly occurred to him how wrong it was for him to be in this situation with her.

So very wrong, on so many levels, and yet somehow it felt better than the bottle of scotch that would have replaced her.

He looked at the woman in front of him. The sight of her was breathtaking. She was coated in the shadows that had overtaken his office.

At some point she had ended up partly on top of his desk. Her face was flushed and her lips slightly parted.

Her breath came in quick gasps much like his own, and her shirt was fully opened, revealing her gentle curves and a lacy indigo bra. She stared back at him, watching him appraise her as she did the same.

When he met her eyes he noticed a peculiar darkness in them that was purely lust.

She reached towards him and slid her hands up his chest, pushing his suit jacket off his shoulders and letting it fall to the ground. He could feel her breath, warm against his neck, and it was all he could do not to ravish her right then.

He tilted his head down, capturing her lips once more and allowed his hands to roam freely across her skin, stopping briefly to tug her blouse further down her arms.

In his preoccupied state, he hardly noticed her fingers unfastening the buttons of his maroon dress shirt. She tried to pull it off of him, but his hands were too busy admiring the convenience of her front clasp bra to assist.

Instead she switched tactics and ran her hands down his sides and across his back underneath his shirt while slowly grinding against him in a desperate search for friction.

His mouth soon found distraction along the column of her neck and the curve of her breast. The breathy little sounds she was making were driving him crazy and his pants were proving to be far too confining.

His movements were rough and demanding and he knew he should stop but he couldn't seem to find enough self-control to do so when she was pressing those sinful lips to his chest. Well, 'when in Rome', right?

Thank god it was Friday.

The delightful black skirt she was currently wearing clung in all the right places.

He slid his hand up the inside of her thigh and felt her shiver. Without warning he pushed a finger inside of her and swallowed her moan, sliding it rhythmically in and out until she was writhing on his desk with her head tilted back.

She mumbled incoherent pleas.

"Tell me what you want," his voice was low and dangerous as he uttered the challenge into her ear.

"I- I want, please..." she panted haltingly. He introduced another finger and she whimpered. "I want you to f-fuck me," she whispered, her cheeks burning though she did not back down.

How could he say no to such a polite request? Rossi found something about those words coming out of that mouth to be undeniably erotic and he wasn't sure exactly which one of them moaned when he withdrew his fingers.

His body begged for satisfaction and release. He wasted no time undoing his belt and grabbing a condom from his wallet. He entered her in one thrust, causing them both to still as the sensation overwhelmed them. The wet heat around him was so intensely gratifying that he couldn't bear to hold still for much longer, and he began a steady rhythm with their bodies, pushing her further onto the desk with every solid thrust of his hips.

He almost came when she panted "harder" into his ear, but dutifully obeyed.

He knew her pleasure would be verging on pain as his thrusts became increasingly aggressive, but the thought of her wearing bruises under her clothes for the next week brought out something primal and dominating in him. Her breathing grew erratic and she pulled herself closer against him, pressing her mouth into his shoulder to smother her groans.

Her fingernails burned trails down his back as she reached her release, her muffled moan breaking through the silence surrounding them. The feel of her tightening around him sent Rossi plummeting over the edge as he was captured by the empty solace of orgasmic bliss.

He leaned into her, letting the afterglow set in, however temporary it may be, and his breath danced across her collarbone as he--

-- A soft knock startled him out of his thoughts.

After a slightly disoriented moment he turned in his chair and replied to the unvoiced question by uttering a "come in" in the general direction of the door.

Much to his surprise Agent Jareau stepped in, bringing the light of the hallway with her to illuminate the darker corners of his office.

Of course she would knock, he thought, she wasn't the type to assume. He'd have to remember that for later.

"I just thought I'd drop these on your desk; they're for the case tomorrow," she offered with her trademark smile, gliding casually over to his desk and placing a small stack of files on it with her usual grace.

He was genuinely surprised that he wasn't the last one in the office, and briefly wondered if perhaps Agent Jareau had her own empty home to return to each night; Her own demons she wanted to avoid for as long as possible, as he so often did.

"Thank you," he replied with a slightly less enthusiastic smirk.

When he had stared at her just long enough to make her slightly uncomfortable, she smiled again and added, "Well, see you tomorrow" before turning and exiting as gracefully as she had entered, mindfully closing the door behind her.

Deciding to call it a night, David Rossi stood up from his chair, grabbing his keys and jacket.

He noticed for the first time how late it was as he glanced up at the clock, a slight grin forming on his lips at having been able to successfully distract himself from the heavy weight in his pocket.

Maybe one day he would no longer need to.