Title: Supposed to be …

Author: Kuria Dalmatia

Rating/Warnings: FMR/R (profanity)

Characters/Pairing: Rossi/Garcia, semi-AU for Season 5+, set after S6's "JJ."

Summary: David Rossi wanted that first time with Penelope to be perfect. To be what the other first times hadn't been. It was supposed to be romantic. Beautiful. It wasn't.

ARCHIVING: my LJ and FFNet account... anyone else? Please ask first.

Feedback always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: The Mark Gordon Company, ABC Studios and CBS Paramount Network Television own Criminal Minds. Salut! I just took them out to play and I promise put them back when I'm done. I'm not making any profit just trying to get these images out of my head.

Thanks again for all those who R&R.

NOTES: Wine is good. June 2011

/***/ Supposed to be … /***/

Their consummation was supposed to be on the opening night of her play, after she received the standing O for her amazing performance (chilling as hell, but Dave never dwelled on that). A light dinner, carriage ride through the city, a bundle of long-stemmed roses, a suite at the Willard, and champagne that was older than he was.

David Rossi wanted that first time with Penelope to be perfect. To be what the other first times hadn't been. It was supposed to be romantic. Beautiful.

Not awkward or desperate or fumbling.

Not Holy God, JJ has been taken from us.

JJ wasn't dead. Thank God. No. Not dead.

Just transferred.

But Dave's years in the Bureau made him realize that dead, in this case, could be considered better. There wouldn't be that horrid sense of betrayal when they slowly lost contact. When the grind of the FBI and the grind of the State Department (greedy fucking bastards they were) would never sync up.

JJ was lost to them in that horrid limbo of, "We'll see each other next weekend," knowing that "next weekend" really meant sometime next year. Mayb e never. It just the was it was.

Penelope clung to him.

He clung to her.

They ended up in his bed.

It was, perhaps, the worst sex he'd had in his adult life. The 'teen years didn't count because that was just a bunch of fumbling around and shooting his load before he was supposed to.


It was bad.

He couldn't get her off.

She couldn't get him off.

They just laid in bed together, silent in their frustrations. "Sorry," he finally said, because he was the man and all. He would take the blame. He had to.

"If it were easy, it wouldn't be worth it," she murmured as she curled around his arm.

He blinked, surprised at the absolution. "Pen …"

"If the first time was the best ever, wouldn't the rest of the times be a disappointment?"

Dave laughed. Out loud. Hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. "Jesus Christ."

Pen rolled on her side, sheets tangled around her in an oddly demure way. She looked at him. "We'll get better."

"I wanted it to be perfect," he admitted as he cupped her cheek.

"Aw, my beloved Italian Stallion," Pen cooed with a gentle yet wicked smile, "perfection means it can't get any better." She tugged at the sheet around his waist. "I'd rather work up to that, no?"


The word stopped Dave momentarily.


Oh. God. The words were out before he could stop them. "I love you."

Her smile went from naughty to … Christ. He couldn't even catalog her expression. "I love you, too, David Rossi." She kissed him hard, thoroughly. "I love you, too."