Title: Love and Loss
By: snoozie2105
Pairing: JJ/Rossi/Will
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: As ever, I do not have any claims to CM or its characters.
Author's note: If you're a JJ/Rossi fan, let me apologize for what you're about to read. I wanted to do something different, something that didn't have them falling into each other's arms at the end. (I'm sorry, Tracia – really, I am!)
Summary: She considered their intimacy a mistake, the result of fatigue, stress, confused emotions, the need to hold and be held.

***

David Rossi watched the bride and groom take the floor for their first dance as man and wife. As he sipped his Scotch, he wondered again why he had come, even though he knew the answer. Because she had asked him to, and he would do anything she wanted.

And, if he were honest, he would admit that he had come to punish himself for being a coward, to show himself what he could have had.

He'd carried a torch for Jennifer Jareau since Hotch had introduced them. Of all the changes that had taken place over the ten years he'd been gone, he thought as they shook hands, she was easily the most impressive. Yeah, the jet was nice, but it didn't come close.

It was her outer beauty – that long, blonde hair, beautiful smile, contagious laugh, and those long, toned legs – that captivated him at first, but, after he'd worked with her and gotten to know her, it was her inner beauty – her care and concern for others, her dedication to her career, her ability to know what to say in any situation, and her understanding – that took his breath away ... and made him fall helplessly in love with her.

As time passed, he started to think she might be interested too. He often bought her a drink at the end of a long day, she sometimes fixed a home-cooked meal for him, he took care of odd jobs around her condo, she helped him decorate an addition to his house, and they worked on profiles and read case files together. Quickly they became each other's closest friend, personally and professionally. A part of his heart that he'd left for dead slowly came back to life.

And in one night, all that had changed. They'd met up for a drink but decided to take a walk, both of them too keyed up from the case that had demanded their attention to turn in as the rest of the team had. The air was cool, and when he noticed that she shivered, he gave her his jacket. She accepted it, then his arm, as if to do was the most natural thing in the world.

He remembered like it was yesterday how, when they reached the door of her hotel room, their eyes had locked, how he'd gently lifted her chin with his forefinger and lowered his lips to hers. David Rossi had kissed a lot of women in a lot of different ways during his life, but no kiss had ever been so sweet or felt so right than the one he shared with Jennifer Jareau. When they finally parted, she slid the keycard in the door and led him inside.

The passion they shared was unbelievable, undeniable, and when their breathing and heart rates had returned to normal, they'd fallen asleep in each other's arms, tired and spent. But the next morning, in the cold light of day, she'd made it clear that she considered their intimacy a mistake, the result of fatigue, stress, confused emotions, the need to hold and be held. They were colleagues, she said, friends, but not lovers. No argument he could make could change her mind. It was as if she was determined to forget the entire night.

Normally he was not one to back down from a challenge, but he had never encountered a challenge like Jennifer. Did he step up his pursuit of her? Did he back off and hope that she would come around? He knew what he wanted to do, but for once in his life, he didn't know what he should do. Fear was an emotion that he saw in others almost every day but rarely felt himself.

But before he had a chance to do anything, to let her know that she was the last woman he would ever want, the last woman he would ever love, he had to hear it from Prentiss that she was keeping company with Will LaMontagne. It killed him to be by her side daily and know that she was doing her damndest to put their night together behind her.

He'd finally cornered her in her office late one night and asked her to be honest with herself and with him. She'd taken a deep breath but wouldn't meet his eyes when she said yes, she did have feelings for him, but she couldn't act on them, indeed had no business acting on him. When he pressed her on why, she'd cited their jobs, their positions, their ages, the fact that she didn't want to be the fourth Mrs. Rossi. He tried to countering her arguments, but it was clear that she had already made her decision. When she'd looked at him, with tears in her eyes, and asked him if they could be friends, he'd done the only thing he could do – agree. It was the cruelest thing a woman could say to a man, but her happiness, her sanity, meant more to him than his own feelings and desires.

And here he sat at her wedding, drinking and watching her dance with her husband, listening to the chatter of their team in the background, waiting for the song to be over so he could say his goodbye and offer his best wishes. When the song ended, she practically floated in her gown back to the bride and groom's table, while Will went to the bar for fresh drinks.

"Jennifer," he called as he approached.

"David!" Her expression was a mixture of happiness and regret as she stood and opened her arms for a hug. "Thank you for coming."

Part of him wanted to thank her for breaking his heart, once and for all, but it was her wedding day, and even though she had married another man, he wouldn't hurt her for the world. He settled for saying, "I wouldn't if you hadn't asked me."

"I know," she replied quietly as she squeezed his hand. "It means a lot to me, you being here."

How could he respond to that? "You look beautiful. Truly."

"Don't." She made a miserable attempt at laughter but couldn't stop her eyes from welling up.

"Why? I'm being honest."

"Because you'll make me cry."

"As long as they're happy tears, Jennifer," he replied, his voice hoarse as he fought to maintain his composure and control. "You know I only want you to be happy, but trust me – when he screws up, when he hurts you, his ass is mine – and I don't care who knows it. Call me. I'll be waiting."

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