OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER: I don't own Criminal Minds, or any of its associated characters, plots, scripts or episodes.

Strangers in a Two-Bit Town

Like so many small town bars, the light levels inside bore little resemblance to the time of day. Subdued lighting hid the various patrons from each other, the oasis that was the bar the only place to see clearly. It was early in the day to be drinking but a little Dutch courage had seemed appropriate before standing in front of a bunch of strangers and trying to convince them to part with their money.

The glass of whiskey in front of him remained nearly untouched; bitter on his tongue the first sip had been enough to convince him that getting drunk probably wasn't a good idea. There was still thirty minutes before the talk and book signing; thirty minutes to convince himself that there were going to be actual people there who were going to ask questions and interact, that he wasn't going to be standing alone in a bookshop like an idiot.

Clearly alcohol had been involved when he decided it would be a good idea to write a book. Sitting in the lawyer's office going through his third divorce it had seemed reasonable - but divorces always made him maudlin. Share the pain; let others know what goes on to protect them from the monster under the bed. Why would anyone want to know this stuff? Why would they want to know that the bogeyman in the closet was real, that he might really be out to get you?

A figure sliding onto the stool next to him drew David Rossi from his introspection. The bar itself had no other patrons, the bar flies contenting themselves with tables in the darker corners, so it was a strange seat choice. Especially considering his new drinking companion appeared to be some high school senior come college freshman, not some embittered lady of negotiable affection.

He really didn't need this. The universe was clearly mocking him. Being a successful author never seemed further away, he was about to be reduced to being a beat cop, enforcing the State drinking age.

"ID." The barman at least agreed with him. A card was handed over and was good enough to elicit a grunt from the man before the ubiquitous, "what'll it be?"

It had to be fake, there was no-way this kid had hit twenty one. Rossi turned to look him over again. Clearly aware of the look, it could hardly be classed as subtle, the kid shucked his jacket sleeve further up his arm to take a look at his watch. "Given the time, coffee will be fine."

Technically he should still call the youngster on the fake id but as long as he stuck to none alcoholic Rossi was prepared to let this one go. He didn't have time to get embroiled in whether the barman was checking IDs properly and this was a college town. Coffee drinking underage bar patrons were hardly the worst that was going to come in of an evening.

Rossi watched as the kid added sugar to the hot drink as if it was going out of fashion. Dealing with diabetic shock was equally something to be avoided if he was going to make the reading.

"You don't taste anything after two teaspoons, you do know that don't you?" He wasn't quite sure why he was engaging with the other man but it might help to pass the time and if he didn't want to be spoken to then he should have sat on any of the other seats in the place.

The young man smiled at Rossi, who felt his heart skip in response, causing him to frown. His companion turned back to look at his drink, making Rossi feel like a complete heel for upsetting him.

"I don't much like coffee." The words were mumbled barely audible. "But it's hardly time to start drinking is it?"

The rebuke hit home. It was still early, to be hitting the spirits at least, and he had a job to do later. Rossi pushed the glass away, made eye contact with the barman and ordered a coffee.

He felt, more than saw, the other man smile. Rossi could rationalise his actions like a pro. The scotch wasn't particularly good; he had to stand up and talk in a little while and it would be best not to fall into any audience that did show; but he knew it was solely to please a total stranger.

A stranger who, unasked, was pushing over the sugar. The reason for this was soon evident. The coffee was worse than the scotch! It was only by dint of being an aficionado of cop shop coffee pots that he didn't spit it out over the bar.

Time to indulge in a little recreational profiling, just to help pass the time. The barman had been easy. Works long days to support the wife, wedding ring, and kids, photo of smiling family on the mirror behind the register. Wasn't particularly keen on his day time crowd but would do his job to the best of his abilities, which included knowing a fake ID; yet also knew when it wasn't worth pushing the letter of the law. Rossi was privately convinced that if his neighbour had ordered so much as a beer the ID would have been looked at in a more critical light.

The drunks in the corner were the same as drunks the world over.

Which left the kid. Rossi didn't believe he was twenty one and that lead automatically to another question. The coffee in here wasn't drinkable so why the bar and not the coffee shop down the street?

"I don't like the noise." The comment was so in tune with Rossi's thoughts that he wondered if he had spoken out loud. "If I'm not working I don't like to deal with the noise in the coffee shop. You were thinking 'why in here' weren't you?" Brown eyes looked at him from above a grin.

Rossi acknowledged the other man's profile with a nod. "It seems a strange place to come for a cup of coffee."

"It's dark and at this time of day it's quiet. I do a lot of work at night so dark and quiet are comfortable places to be." He returned to his cup of coffee, sneaking in a glance at his watch.

Night work. Well that explained why he sat down on the stool next to Rossi. Hopefully there wouldn't be a scene if he didn't avail himself of his charms. Wait, he reviewed the thought, if he turned the kid down? Since when did SSA Rossi consider using any prostitute let alone a male one? He drowned the coffee while trying to sort out his feelings and promptly coughed on the grounds that had made it into the cup.

Shuddering at the taste in his mouth, he turned to take a good look at the kid. Late teens, early twenties tops; tall and scrawny, like he still needed to grow into the latest growth spurt; overly long hair surrounded a face that was pouting at him. So much for being subtle.

"So what brings you here?" Apparently Rossi's way with the ladies didn't translate into being able to talk to twinks.

The pout morphed back to the grin. "A favour for a friend. I sat here because I thought you were sat at the bar, but not knocking back the booze like it was about to be banned, so were likely to let me just sit here in peace and kill a little time. Didn't mean to interrupt your afternoon but sitting alone in a bar, well, it can get you some 'odd' attention. I figured I'd get left alone. So, please, don't think you need to talk to me."

"Am I disturbing you?" Rossi watched as one of the drinkers from the corner came over to the bar ogling the other man's body as they came. At least Rossi hadn't looked at him as if he was a piece of meat. The kid shook his head but his shoulders twitched together as if he could feel the eyes on him. "So, a favour? Anything exciting?"

"Not really." He got up and moved with his coffee cup to the other side of Rossi. "My housemate has decided he wants to join the FBI. God only knows what he's thinking, but some agent wrote a book and is signing at the bookstore down the street, now that's a place that needs to sell coffee, you know what I mean? It would be easy to kill several hours in there but it is the only bookshop on the planet that doesn't provide you with the opportunity to get a drink while you browse."

Rossi felt a little nonplussed at the sudden change in topic and a little proud that this beautiful person was actually there to see him.

"Anyway, I couldn't come up with anything better to get him for the holidays, so I figured why not, it's only twenty bucks right and maybe it will be some badly written true crime thing and he'll drop the idea of going off to be 'the Man' and get a sensible job doing something that doesn't involve shooting guns while diving through the air."

Rossi laughed. "There's surprisingly little of that when you work in law enforcement."

The grin grew wider. "Really, now that's a real shame. You'd think there'd be some sort of compensation for the ill fitting suits and long hours making all flying saucer sightings top secret."

"Well there is a lot of that I have to admit." Rossi held out his hand. "SSA David Rossi. FBI. Purveyor of bad true crime stories and professional X-files solver." The grin turned into a laugh but the younger man did shake his hand.

"I'm sorry. I'm sure the book is great, otherwise why would they have published it? Talk about bragging rights though, Ethan wants to join the FBI and I get to talk to the FBI agent - apart of course 'can you make it out to "Snookums" please?'"

"You call your housemate 'Snookums'?" Rossi admitted defeat to himself. He no longer cared that the conversation was in no way under his control. Here he was sat in a town he couldn't remember the name of, with some kid who was here to get a book signed for his housemate come boyfriend. As a past master in the art of denial he wasn't going to dwell on the feeling of disappointment that he wasn't being hit on.

"Not until now. But I think I might when I go back. Would you sign it to Snookums?"

"'To Snookums, with best wishes, David Rossi'. I don't think so, that would be the copy that would end up in some second hand book shop and would get picked up by Gideon or Ryan and I'd never live it down." Just the thought of the other two's mocking was enough to make him do an exaggerated shudder.

"Well, Super Secret Agent..."

"Supervisory Special Agent." That got Rossi a nod in acknowledgement of the correction.

"David Rossi, your literary stardom awaits and if you don't move it you're going to be late."

Rossi looked at his watch and swore. Quickly gathering his few belongings together he took a last look at his impromptu distraction. "I'll see you in a while then?"

Mischief sparkled out of the other man's eyes, a man Rossi noticed who hadn't given his own name in response, but he smiled and nodded. For now that would have to be enough.