TITLE: Notice
ICON ARTIST: sodoesrachael
AUTHOR: Kuria Dalmatia
Characters/Pairings: Rossi

No beta. All mistakes are mine. Standard disclaimers.

It had been, without a doubt, an incredibly shitty year. Hotch and all the accompanying horrors... Reid recovering from having his knee decimated by that bullet... The rest of the Kids hadn't escaped unscathed either.

Dave's childhood being thrust in the spotlight had been especially painful because, well, there were some things that were better left to rumor than truth. The Team, thankfully, had accepted his past and his somewhat dubious ties, and there had been only one Mafia holiday joke (courtesy of Garcia, because she was the only one who could really get away with it).

Closing the door on his life in Commack had been easy; he'd done it countless times before.

Specifically, every major holiday until his parents had decided to migrate to Boca Raton in '92.

And like a good, seasoned FBI agent, like the consummate member of the BAU that he was, he compartmentalized everything since it was just that much easier.

So when an email showed up on his Blackberry seven months after the case in Commack, Dave held off on opening it until the Team checked in to the hotel for the evening.

FROM: Juno Rossi
TO: 'Davey' FBI Addy
SUBJECT: News about Gina

Gina a.k.a. Wife #1. Sometimes, it was just easier to refer to them by numbers than by names. Sometimes, they all blended together.

Dave sighed. The Kids had retired for the evening. He had opted for the hotel bar; if he was going read an email about Gina, he was definitely going to have some liquid fortification. A quick, friendly chat with the bartender who happened to be a Cubs fan—"Pinella should be run out of town!"—earned a double scotch on the rocks with a "top shelf" brand that would be considered 'well brand' at the bars that Dave preferred.

Still, he wasn't complaining.

He drank half of it before clicking open the email.

After the first sentence, he downed the rest and signaled for a refill.

The bartender, Winston, nodded towards the Blackberry as he refilled Dave's glass. "You hate those things as much as I do?"

"Yeah," Dave said. "Especially when the family decides to send shitty news. Christ. What the fuck happened to just calling, damn it?"

Winston shook his head. "Sorry," he said and filled the glass to the top. "But at least your family's making the effort, eh?"

"Touche," Dave let out a sharp laugh as he saluted Winston with his drink. "They make the effort but news like this?" He took a long drink, allowing the alcohol to pool in his mouth and burn on the way down. "It needed a phone call."

"Bar's open another fifteen minutes," Winston replied as he wiped down part of the counter, "but it can stay open for a while."

Dave huffed out a laugh. "You're a good man, Winston. Thank you." He nodded, took another drink, and set his glass down. "If I didn't have to be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow? I'd take you up on that offer." He pulled out his wallet, extracted a twenty and a ten, and placed them on the counter.

Winston pushed the cash back at him, starting to say, "It's on the house..."

"Can't take freebies there, Winston," Dave interrupted. "FBI rules."

"Well, then thank you, sir."

"Mind if I take this up to my room? I've gotta call a brother and give him an epic amount of shit for sending me an email." Dave held up the Blackberry for emphasis.

"Not a problem. I'll be here tomorrow night," Winston added. "Cubs are playing the Reds. The battle of the Former Managers. Knowing our luck? Dusty will finally get a win in Chicago."

Dave laughed and thanked him. He picked up his drink and slowly wandered back to his room.

Once there, he said down in the chair by the desk and glanced at the first line of the email:

I know you're not close anymore but there's been some news on Gina...