Title: Never Have I Ever
Disclaimer: I would have so much fun with them if the rights to the show were mine. Alas, they are not.
Author's Note: This is a threesome fic, rated M for the third of three parts. Yes, this means all three of them will be having sex, together.
It was cold out on the balcony of JJ's hotel room, but she barely noticed it as she stood at the railing. The view wasn't much to look at, a parking lot and beyond that a freeway, like so many hotels they stayed in, but she wasn't really looking at the view. She was lost in her own thoughts, trying and failing to not think at all. It wasn't until the knocking on her door got louder that she noticed it at all. She had a pretty good idea who it was, and the knocking wouldn't stop until she opened the door. He wouldn't go away. She didn't want him to.
"Dave." She held the door open for for him, noting that he'd changed since they'd returned from the station. He still wore his jeans and those Italian shoes he liked so much, but his button down and sports coat were gone in favor of a black sweatshirt washed often enough that it had faded to grey.
"I thought I'd..." He frowned, looking at the open balcony door and back at her. It only took a second of his hand against her cheek to tell how cold she was.
"You're freezing. It's got to be thirty-five degrees out there, if not less. They're saying it might snow tonight." He didn't ask before crossing the room and closing the doors. While he was at it he drew the curtains closed as well. "You're exhausted, you don't need to be sick as well."
"I needed some fresh air." It was only in the warmth of the room that she realized just how cold she was, the chill deep in the morrow of her bones.
"I know." His voice softened, but the concern in his eyes didn't fade as he wrapped his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin.
She'd changed into yoga pants and a long sleeved t-shirt after she'd taken a shower in an attempt to wash away the day. Neither was enough to keep her warm, but they were thin enough to feel Rossi's body heat. Like a sponge her skin seemed to absorb it. As she began to warm up she started to tremble, or maybe it was that he was holding her and she didn't have to be strong and alone.
She wasn't quite sure how it happened, but one minute she was leaning against him and the next she was on his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed. She couldn't stop shaking. It was stupid, she told herself. Stupid to stand out in the cold and more stupid to break down like this. She'd seen a lot of terrible things over the years and though she might have cried or needed time alone she'd never let herself break down around another person like this. Not even Will, when things had been still good between them and she had thought he was someone she could trust.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"You have nothing to be sorry about, Jen. This case hit all of us hard, but I can't imagine how much harder it was for you and Hotch. The fact that you held it together so flawlessly the last three days is a testament to how strong you are." He pulled the comforter from the end of the bed to cover her. She closed her eyes as she rested against his chest. She'd been nowhere near composed for the last three days, but she didn't have it in her to argue. Finally, between the blanket and his body heat she began to feel the cold of the last three days start to thaw, warmth slowly seeping back in. His hold on her didn't relax at all.
"I'm fine. I'll be fine." She wasn't sure who she was trying to convince, him or herself.
"I know you will." He looked down at her, a faint but sincere smile on his lips.
"You've been watching me, these last couple of days." They'd been paired more than usual, which might have been his doing or might have been Hotch who'd been watching her almost as closely.
"Kitten, I always watch you." He touched her cheek, lightly. It was the most intimate that touches between them got. For months now they'd been dancing around each other as they grew closer. Most times they were out on a case, he stopped by her room at least once a night. Usually he stayed for an hour or two, just talking or watching a movie in companionable silence. A few times he'd stayed the night, kicking off his shoes and laying on top of the covers like a gentleman. They hadn't even kissed yet, though they both knew that things were heading in that direction.
"You've been watching me because you're worried." She probably shouldn't keep sitting where she was, but she didn't want to move.
"I've been worried about Hotch too. I didn't like the sound of this case going in; I'm just glad the son of a bitch is in jail for the rest of his life. If there was a pool I'd bet a lot of money that what's left of his life isn't going to be pleasant or long." If there was one thing that even murderers, thieves and drug dealers found to be morally reprehensible, it was people who hurt kids. One who murdered them after he tortured them wasn't going to last long.
"When we were all there with our guns drawn and Hotch was telling him to put his hands in the air I thought, for a second, about what would happen if he didn't. What if he'd tried to run, or shoot, or charged us? I could have shot him. I wantedto shoot him. I've never thought like that before, not even with Battle. He was threatening my family and I did what I had to, but I didn't want his death. Not like I wanted Henderson's." It worried her, that the desire to pull the trigger had been so strong. What if she'd been alone with him, no worry about what her team would see or think? Would she have brought him in, or would she have had her own justice? Vengeance.
"I would have shot him and felt not one iota of remorse. He's the worst kind of scum." Five boys dead before they'd caught him with a sixth. All of them bruised and strangled, all of them under the age of seven and all of them with blond hair that reminded everyone on the team of both Jack and Henry.
"I can't stop thinking about the parents. Five sets of parents, all grieving." She couldn't stop thinking how it would be if she was the one without a son, nothing but a hole in her life. She remembered Sarah Hillridge coming to her office every time there was a case with a missing eight year old; she wouldn't even have that faint hope if Henry was dead.
"And one set standing the doorway of their son's bedroom, watching him sleep. Right now, though, there's only one parent I'm concerned with. Tell me what I can do for you tonight." As if he could read her mind he added "Henry's safe. I know you'd rather be home right now, seeing that with your own eyes, but by tomorrow this fog will have lifted and we'll be able to fly home. You only have to get through tonight."
"I wish I could sleep." She didn't want to close her eyes; she knew the images that were waiting for her.
"I can stay until you do. Or I can just stay." He'd never made the offer outright before; usually it was just an unspoken understanding between them when it got late and the movie ended or they were too tired to talk more.
"I don't want to be alone." She moved off his lap finally, sitting at the top of the bed with her back against the headboard and her legs pulled up in front of her.
"Did you want to watch something? I won't complain if it's one of those girl things you threaten me with sometimes." He turned on the bed to face her after kicking off his shoes. JJ had a weakness for romantic comedies and period pieces, something she shared with Garcia and Emily but only teasingly threatened to make Rossi watch.
"No." She shook her head. It wouldn't feel right, not with the ghosts of five little boys hanging over her head.
"I could..." Whatever Rossi could or could not offer was forgotten with the sharp rap of knuckles against the hotel room door. He glanced at the clock; it was after ten. He was sure JJ hadn't ordered any room service, so that left two options; either it was another member of their team, or someone unwelcome. Rossi almost hoped some random stalker was knocking on doors, it would give him a way to vent his emotions. "Do you want to me get it?"
"No, I will." She slid off the bed, opening the door without asking who it was first. Rossi frowned; she wasn't usually so careless.
"I thought you could use a little company, or a little Jack. Or company and a lot of Jack." Emily Prentiss stood in the doorway, bottle in one hand and a slightly surprised look on her face. "I guess you have company already."
Dave looked at the bed, comforter pulled back and him sitting in the middle with his feet bare. He'd be a little surprised too, if he was Prentiss. "We were talking."
"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" She arched one brow, and Dave could swear there was a glint of amusement in her eyes.
"He's here for the same reason you are, just without the alcohol. Did you want to come in?" JJ stepped back from the door, giving her room to enter.
"I don't have to. I can leave you guys alone, with or without the liquid refreshment." She didn't look like she was in any hurry to leave, though.
"I'll get glasses from the bathroom; I think there's at least three in there. Shut the door, will you?" JJ decided for her, for all of them. As much as she wouldn't have minded time alone with Rossi, the mind numbing property of Jack Daniels was sounding pretty good. She came back into the main room with three plastic glasses that she'd just taken out of their bags to find Emily on the second bed, facing Rossi. She sat next to him and held out the glasses. "Only the very best for us."
"I'm not a snob." Emily took one of the glasses, looking pointedly at the seven hundred dollar pair of shoes on the floor between them, where Rossi had kicked them off.
"I care more about what's in the glass than what it's made of." Though it was true that the glasses he had at home were crystal, and just the right shape to enhance the flavor of the whiskey, at times like this that didn't matter.
"Emily, will you do the honors?" JJ asked, holding out her own glass. She didn't usually drink much, and rarely hard alcohol, but she was ready for it tonight. As long as she was sober enough to make it from the hotel to the plane in the morning, she didn't care about anything else.
"Cent'anni," Rossi said when they each had a glass poured. Emily had not been at all skimpy with the bottle; each glass was filled within an inch of the brim. They 'clinked' their glasses together before taking a good sized drink. It burned JJ's throat as it went down, but the heat was welcome, and oblivion hoped for.