A/N: This is my response to the March Madness (2011) challenge on Chit Chat on Author's Corner (on fanfiction . net). My prompts were JJ/Rossi and Saved by the Bell.

This story has some spoilers for the episode Lauren. And takes place a few weeks after the end of that episode, so don't read if you don't want to be spoiled.

This is also the first time I've written any significant amounts of JJ/Rossi conversation.

Please, let me know what you think! Thanks!

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.

Saved By The Bell:

Picking up his tumbler full of brown liquid, he swirled it around before bringing it to his lips. David Rossi was finding himself increasingly in this type of situation: an upscale bar, sitting on a stool alone, with some type of hard liquor in his hand. The only thing that did seem to change was the type of liquor; today, his drink of choice was scotch.

Putting the cup down after the entire contents were gone, he gestured for the bartender to refill it. The man had the audacity to frown at him. He poured it nonetheless, but not without comment.

"You ok, buddy?"

Rossi grimaced at him. "You don't know me. Don't pretend to give a damn."

The man held his hands up in a backing away gesture and then did just that.

Rossi took hold of his drink and turned on his stool. Looking around he glanced at the few occupied tables and booths. He needed a good time.

One woman, sitting under one of the few sconces lighting the room, was eyeing him pretty aggressively. Blonde—clearly a die job—and pretty enough, he intended on losing himself tonight, with her. He just didn't want to feel the way he felt right now.

Standing up, Dave took one step towards the lady. But a forceful hand to his chest had him sitting back down. Ready to bite the head off of whomever it was who had dared to knock into him, he stared up and found someone unexpected.

"JJ?" he said unsurely.

She sure looked like JJ, but she had a look on her face that he was unfamiliar with.

"Why… why are you angry?" Rossi questioned, only then realizing he was slurring his words.

How much had he had to drink?

"Why am I angry?" JJ said, clearly miffed. "Maybe because you called me in the middle of the night, saying it was an emergency. And now I find that all that's wrong is that you're half drunk on your ass!"

As if her irate-ness had summoned the bartender, he quickly pounced on the chance to make things worse, "Miss, is this your husband? He's had way too much to drink."

"No, he's not my husband, and maybe you should have cut him off before it got to this point. I should report this place for serving alcohol irresponsibly."

Her eyes usually a deep, warm blue, were now as icy as the arctic.

"JJ," Rossi said. "I called you?"

She gave him a disgruntled look. Instead of answering his question, she said, "Get up, we're leaving. Has he paid you?"

The bartender, having been struck dumb by her tirade, only nodded.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him along. He was thankful that he could walk straight at least.

"Where we going?"

She just glared at him and he followed. He'd called JJ? He couldn't remember doing that. Why would he call JJ for a ride? He'd have called Hotch first, probably Morgan too. Either one of them could handle the state he was in. He would never have called Reid or Garcia; they were hurting a lot worse than him.

He'd been thinking about Emily again that night. It was thinking about Emily that usually got him to places like the bar he was in. It'd only been a month since that bastard Doyle had killed her. He hadn't quite come to terms with it, he supposed. That's probably why he turned to the bars, to drown out all the 'what ifs' and 'if only's' that always raced through his mind when he thought about Emily.

The biggest what if of all is what nearly killed him when they'd learned of her death: what if he'd told her how he'd felt about her?

Would that have changed things? Would Emily still be here?

"Dave," JJ startled him out of his thoughts.

He looked at her to see that she was on the driver's side of a black SUV.

"What?" he asked dumbly.

"Get in," she said simply.

"But my car—"

The glare she shot him shut him up. He quickly got into the passenger seat, buckling up.

"Are you… taking me home?" Rossi quickly asked.

"Yes."

"You can't," he denied.

She shot him a sharp look. "Why?"

"It's being renovated," he explained.

"Where have you been staying?" she asked quickly.

"The Hilton," he answered.

They drove on in silence. It only took fifteen minutes to get there. He hadn't gone far; he'd needed a drink that badly.

He was surprised when, instead of being dropped off at the front door, JJ veered for the visitor parking lot. She parked and unbuckled her seat belt; she let out an impatient sigh when he lagged behind.

When she got out of the SUV he felt he needed to comment, "I'm a big boy JJ, I can find my own room."

She gave him a 'yeah right,' snort of disapproval. "Move it Rossi, I need to make sure you don't take any detours, say to the hotel bar…"

He let out a sigh. He didn't want a bar anymore. He wanted to be alone in his room with the thoughts that he'd failed to drown in alcohol. Now that they'd surfaced he wasn't sure what he'd do about them. All he knew was that he wanted to be alone when he contemplated his thoughts.

JJ followed him to the elevators and then got in for the ride.

"What floor?" she asked when he didn't push any buttons.

"Ninth," he answered after a moment's hesitation.

She pushed it and then she leaned back against the elevator, waiting.

"Why are you doing this?" Rossi asked.

"Because you called," she answered, obviously. But then he could see the grimace on her face softening. "And because you're my friend…"

He nodded, accepting her answer.

The elevator door opened and she walked with him to his room. He managed to find his key card and open the door. Walking inside, JJ hung back by the door.

She seemed like she had something more to say, so he turned to face her and waited.

"I know you're all hurting…" she started. "But…"

She continued on, but he was stuck on her opening sentence. Something about it wasn't right.

"…Emily was a truly great person. But she's in a better place right now," JJ tried to console.

"Wait, 'you're all hurting?'" he questioned.

"What?" JJ said in surprise.

"You said, you're all hurting, instead of we're all hurting, why would you say that?" Rossi inquired. "You were one of Emily's best friends, too; surely you're hurting, too."

"Dave," she started, laughing nervously. "You're not making any sense… you're drunk."

He hung on to the fact that she was suddenly, inexplicably anxious. She started to pull out her cell phone, checking it.

"JJ, look at me," Rossi implored. "What's going on?"

She took a deep breath and her face took on an eerily similar to Hotch's stoic expression. "Dave, nothing is going on; of course I'm hurting too. I miss Emily so much."

But it was like with that one sentence his eyes were opening and he was seeing clearly for the first time. At the hospital, he hadn't noticed before because of his grief. But he now remembered distinctly, JJ and Hotch sharing a look and then moving off together to speak privately.

"What do you know, JJ?" he demanded.

"Dave, I don't know—"

"You do know," Rossi cut her off. "Ian Doyle got away. Emily wouldn't be safe if she were still here. You're with the state department. You could—"

"I could what, Dave?" JJ cut him off this time. "I don't know what you're insinuating exactly. But you've got to let Emily rest in peace."

"I can't JJ," he said desperately. "If there's a chance… if there's a chance at all… that I could… I need to tell her, JJ, I need to tell her…"

"Tell her what, Dave?" JJ asked gently, tears in her eyes.

"I need to tell her that I…" he trailed off. "Where is she?"

"Dave, I know you've had a lot to drink," JJ started. "But you know where she is."

He shook his head. "No, that doesn't make sense," he denied. "What does make sense is you hiding her from Doyle… But I need to know, JJ, I do."

JJ looked at him, at a loss of what to do. She wasn't denying it now. But her mouth kept opening and closing. She had no idea what to say.

"JJ, please," he said simply.

"Dave—" she started.

He saw it in her eyes; she had been ready to say something important. But the sound of her damned phone ringing cut her off. She lifted it to look at the screen and her face took on the rigid look again.

"It's Hotch," she said, voice hard.

Rossi let out a breath, murmuring, "Saved by the bell…"

She gave him that same grimace and then answered the phone, "Hotch, hi," moving off into the attached bathroom so he wouldn't hear their conversation.

Exhausted, he flopped back onto his bed. He knew what JJ and Hotch—because, of course Hotch knew his team's every move—had done was necessary but he needed to tell her how he felt.

JJ came out of the bathroom, the same hard look on her face. He let out a sigh, not bothering to get up, he knew he wasn't getting anything.

"Get some coffee in you," she said emotionlessly. "Sober up. Hotch wants to talk to you first thing in the morning."

He nodded.

JJ let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, Rossi, this is for the best."

He didn't say anything as she left the room. He knew that by tomorrow morning most of this night would be a blur. And he knew JJ and Hotch were counting on that, too. And maybe that was for the best. Until they found Doyle, he would let Emily get the well deserved break she needed.

The end.

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think with a review! Thanks!