Bleary eyes opened to dark wood and he rolled over, reaching for the companion he'd curled up with the night before. Okay, so maybe it was the morning by the time they finished – ahem – exercising, but really, there was no reason to throw stones. She'd definitely been as into it as he'd been and he was very much aware alcohol wasn't and couldn't be a factor. She didn't like how alcohol made her feel and he'd decided since it was about time Hotch took a load off, he wasn't going to drink either. The fact that Emily seemed perfectly content to take good care of their supervisor was something he hadn't expected, but he definitely wished them the best. Especially since, considering his previous night, he couldn't really talk.

But his previous night seemed to have other plans, for when he rolled over, the sheets were cold. His stomach twisted uncomfortably and he had to close his eyes against the onslaught of nausea. He'd worked tirelessly for her respect after endearing himself to her devilish side the first case he'd worked with her, and, with a little help from a brunette birdy, had managed to do more than that. Or so he thought.

David Rossi had woken alone, and he wasn't quite sure how he felt about it just yet.

He'd been over the moon when she agreed that she was exhausted and in dire need of a vacation. He'd offered Little Creek, well aware that half of the reason Hotch was celebrating was because they were on stand down for the next two weeks, a gift from the higher ups for the way they'd been running themselves ragged lately. The last three cases had required two teams and they hated splitting up. They never worked as well apart as they did together and Dave wasn't immune to the pressures they'd all been feeling. In fact, he'd started some of the fights that had plagued the BAU in the last two months, and he was readily willing to admit it.

But apologies could wait. He had other things on his mind, like why the woman he'd exhausted the night before – and enjoyed every minute of it, if he did say so himself – was not in his bed. He wasn't sure what to think or what to do. After all that work, after she'd agreed to come back… He'd given her plenty of time to protest, plenty of time to slap him across the face or push him away in that first kiss, but she hadn't. On the contrary, she'd looked surprisingly relaxed when he pulled away from her mouth, and made a little humming whimper that had him closing his eyes against the onslaught of want that raced through his veins. After giving her enough time to absorb everything, he'd gone in again, this time not letting up in his pursuit of everything she was willing to give him. And she'd given him more than he'd expected and more than he wanted.

Yet, part of him wasn't sure what he wanted to do. She was a glorious woman, bright, hilarious, strong… the type of woman his mother would have taken to immediately, God rest her soul. She was the type of woman you married and kept barefoot and pregnant for the rest of her days, though Dave knew better to believe that was what she wanted. That small-town girl had more than made a name for herself in the big city and he wasn't about to take that away. Unless she wanted him to, of course.

For the first time since his last divorce, he found himself wondering what his life would be like with a woman in it permanently. Well, in his personal life, anyway. Professionally, he had more than enough women in his life, including Morgan, who could get on his nerves faster than Reid, and Dave was easily irritated by the young genius' constant mental and intellectual assault. The young doctor knew more useless information than Dave's head could ever take in.

Huffing out a breath, he pulled himself out of his bed, digging up his boxers and a pair of worn track pants. Her clothes were nowhere in sight and he resigned himself to the fact that he'd scared her off. So he dragged his feet going down the stairs, unsurprised to find that he could smell coffee. Of course she'd use his appliances before leaving. But as he hit the bottom stair, two things struck him, besides the smell of glorious caffeine. One, her purse and shoes were still by the door. Two, there was music and an angelic voice coming from the kitchen. His mouth blossomed into a wide smile as he followed the sound and discovered one of the most adorable and arousing things he'd ever seen.

Jennifer Jareau had the radio playing quietly, some country song he couldn't recognize, and was not only singing along, but dancing with it as she moved around his kitchen. And she was wearing his button up shirt from the night before.

"I keep searching the radio. I just wanna hear it, so I can watch that video – Dave!"

He'd snuck up behind her, wrapping his arms about her middle and nestling her body against his. "'Morning, Cara," he said with a chuckle.

She relaxed, her hands coming to rest over his and he was struck with what could be. This could be his life, coming down to this little blond thing in the morning, waking up with her body snuggled against his… It was a surprisingly appealing future.

"Hi."

Her voice was shy and he didn't miss the uncertainty that also coloured her usually confident tones. He nuzzled his face against her neck, and she sighed, tilting it to the side allowing him access. He took it, relishing the shiver that drilled through her as his lips traced the same line it had last night. He couldn't resist her. She smelled wonderful, like the fruit he assumed was her body wash, mixed with the smoke of her hair from the bar and him, from the night of sleeping in his bed.

She let out a soft little sigh, her hands resting on the edge of the counter, curling around the dark marble. "Dave, we have to talk about this."

"Mmhmm," he agreed, even as his hands picked apart enough buttons to slide inside his shirt. Her skin was soft and war, stomach toned and flat against his palm. He could vividly remember exploring that skin with his mouth only hours before.

"I'm serious," she said, even as her breath hitched.

He believed her, he really did, but he couldn't seem to keep his hands and mouth off of her. "Then talk."

She stiffened and he glanced up to see an 'are-you-kidding-me' look on her face. Then his fingers brushed the underside of a naked breast and her eyes fluttered closed. "What are we doing?"

"At the moment?" he murmured, tilting her head to tease her mouth with his.

"In general," she answered as they broke the kiss. One of her hands released the counter to squeeze the hand that had been sliding open the lower buttons of his shirt. She couldn't hold in a gasp as the heat of his hand soaked through to her skin, and she became very aware of the fact that his hand now rested just above the line of her panties.

"That depends," he answered, his thumb delicately smoothing over the lace and satin that made up the elastic covering her from his questing fingers. "I want you, Jen. I've made no secret of that."

She snorted. "Not in the past eighteen hours, but before that?" Her breath caught as he pressed against her back and ass. He was strong and hard against her. "And what does it depend on?"

"You," he replied, inching his lower hand down and sliding his thumb under her panties.

She sighed, and this time not in pleasure. "Dave-" She almost choked, her body stiffening as his hand slid lower, slipping into her folds. "I can't concentrate on the conversation."

He took pleasure in the way her hand simply tightened on his wrist but didn't pull his hand out. He dragged his goatee along the delicate skin of her neck. "Then don't."

She spun to face him, dislodging his hands completely. "I'm not having sex with you again until we talk about this."

Arousal warred with determination in her blue eyes so he wasn't afraid of physical retaliation as he stepped into her, forcing her back against the counter. "Multitask, Jen," he told her, his hands coming to rest on her hips under his shirt. "If you want to have this conversation now, you're going to have to multitask."

"Dave, no," she said, her eyes fluttering closed as he leaned down, his breath fanning against her face.

"I don't believe you," he whispered, kissing her softly. If she really wanted him to stop, she'd push him away. She wasn't afraid of him and never had been. It was one of the things that had drawn him to her in the first place. She didn't push him away. She responded in kind and he shivered as her elegant hands slid up his torso and through his chest hair until they settled on either side of his neck.

"You're my boss," she gasped as she pulled away, and he latched onto her ear.

"Superior, not boss," he corrected gently. "Loophole."

"You're an arrogant ass."

"You're the only one that can handle me when I'm an arrogant ass," he countered, hands coming up to deal with the top buttons of her shirt, pushing the fabric off of her shoulders.

She dropped her arms and let it flutter to the countertop. "I'm the only one that will," she argued, her head falling back as he moved to nipple along her collarbone. "We want different things."

That made him stop and pull his head up, though he didn't remove his lower body from where it was nestled against hers. "What makes you say that?"

She looked at him like he'd grown extra heads. "Three divorces and a number of flings for one. Your reputation and fame for another. Oh, and then there's the age difference."

He growled low in his throat, shifting so his arousal was obvious where it pressed against her. "Are you implying I can't keep up with you?"

"No," she said, chuckling slightly. Her hands slid up to cup his cheeks as she sighed. "I'm talking about a family, Dave. I'm talking about kids a dog and a white picket fence. As much as I may want you to be that guy, you aren't."

He didn't care. He didn't want to talk about kids or about a future even he wasn't sure about. And yet, he knew she wouldn't give in unless he gave her something. "Jen, I don't think about the future, you know that. I barely think past next week. I have a schedule and someone who keeps my schedule for me when it comes to my books and endorsements."

"I can't do maybes, Dave. Not anymore."

But her eyes and her body told another story. They told him she wanted him, and he knew he wanted her. His hands slid up her body, finding the underside of her breasts and teasing up the sides. Her skin was so incredibly soft that he'd had a hard enough time keeping his hands off of it the night before let alone now. His dark eyes met hers and he didn't hide any of the heat from his gaze. "Do you want me, Jen?"

She choked on her words as his hands chose that moment to brush across her nipples. "It doesn't matter."

He pressed against her, fitting himself to her and pulling on one of her thighs. He hiked her knee over his hip, opening to her so she could feel him against her, even with the barrier of her panties and his pants and boxers. "Oh it does."

He didn't give her any chance to reply, just sealed his mouth to hers, kissing her with everything in him. He wasn't surprised when she responded, her hands wrapping around his neck and her foot tangling around the back of his knee. He thrilled at the way she just gave over to him. He wasted no time, didn't bother to slow down and give her the chance to back off again. He dropped her leg long enough to divest her of her panties before bringing it back up so he could slide his fingers into her dewy heat.

"Dave," she breathed, moving against his hand.

He grinned, moving his fingers in and out of her. He remembered her looking almost exactly like this, eyes half closed, breath coming in short pants… Except this time it was with the forest in the background instead of his dark blue sheets. The sun poured through the window, lighting her from the back and he found his chest constricting. His fingers continued moving, his thumb coming out to stroke her wrenching a pleasured sob from her throat. He found himself vaguely wondering if this was worth giving up every belief he had, every thought about how he could not raise kids. For her, maybe he could. For her, he wanted to, if it meant keeping her.

She clenched around her fingers, her body bowing towards him. He worked her through her peak, ignoring his own straining need until her body relaxed. "You're gorgeous. Hot. God, Jen…"

Then he was picking her up, wrapping her legs around his waist and, much to his own surprise, making it all the way up the stairs. He dropped her on the bed at the same time he reached for the nightstand and a condom. Then he was sliding into her as she sat on the edge of the bed. She put her hands behind her to support her body weight as he thrust in and out of her, slow first, forceful, pushing and adjusting so he hit her just right on every push.

"Faster," she said, heated blue eyes meeting and holding his, unflinching. "Come on."

He obliged her, adding his thumb into the mix since he couldn't ensure he would hit her clit every time. One arm came up to wrap around his neck, holding him to her as her back arched. He watched as she fell over the edge again, and followed her over as her inner muscles clenched around him. She flopped back onto the bed and he took a few minutes to dispose of the condom before returning to the bed. He sat on the edge for a moment.

"I can't promise you what you want, Jen. I can't tell you with certainty what you want is not what I want," he said, reaching out and stroking a hand along her cheek. "What I can promise you is that this isn't just about sex. When I say I want you it isn't just about your body. Can I see myself settling down, it's a serious possibility, but I don't want to do it without you. Right now, you're the woman that has me tied in knots, and you have to know that doesn't happen often, if at all."

She curled into his side as he settled down, spent and exhausted. "I don't know if that's enough. And sex doesn't convince me of that."

His hand cupped the back of her neck. "I don't want sex to convince you of that," he answered, his fingers scratching lightly at her hairline.

"I don't want to change you," she said, surprising him. "This, whatever this is or was… I thought it would get you out of my system. And everyone else seemed so relaxed, so I figured it was a good enough way to get you out of my system."

"And? Did it work?"

"No," she replied. Then she sighed. "No it didn't."

I needed to watch something un-Hotch/Prentiss for a change. Actually, I'd really like to write something Hotch/Prentiss or disgustingly and sickeningly fluffy. I need to write fluff. And I can't write fluff because I'm not at that part of any of my stories. It's annoying. And I'm exhausted. I want to go to bed. But I refuse to go to bed for at least another hour. Blah.

Let me know what you think!