Agent Grey.

~Pasta Papa~

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"Ah, you all made it." Rossi smiled, swinging the heavy doors wide open, looking down on us, the spare key still dangling in mid air as we crouched next to the keyhole. Me, JJ and Garcia straightened up, Garcia's face flushed red and JJ apologising quickly. "S-sorry, sir, we were just, uh- I dropped something you see! So, uh, yes, sorry..." Garcia stuttered, stumbling over her sentences as she attempted to divert attention from what we were obviously trying to accomplish. "Don't think I didn't know what you were trying to do. Ellie has broken in here too many times to count, which is why I've wisely invested in some more security cameras, the ones with motion sensors. You'll never succeed in surprising me ever again, you mark my words!" Rossi chuckled, welcoming us inside and closing the doors behind us.

 "I will one day, just you wait." I muttered grinning, walking over to envelope him in a tight hug. "Yeah, sure, kiddo." Rossi returned the hug and rolled his eyes, before turning to JJ and Garcia. "Ready to stuff your faces with the best pasta you've ever had?" He asked, smiling at the both of them as he led us through a many number of hallways towards his large kitchen/ dining room where the rest of the soon to be reunited team lounged about. "That depends..." Garcia started, nervously grinning. "Did the Pasta Papa make it?" Penelope finished, shuffling awkwardly as Rossi slowly stopped and turned to face her, his face unreadable. 

Garcia edged closer to JJ, attempting to create a barrier between her and Rossi's penetrating stare. "Uh, do you get it? It's a joke you see... Ellie told me to say it!" She stuttered, practically clinging to poor JJ. "What she means is that you're like the king of pasta, cos you're so fabulous at making the most scrumptious pasta ever to be created in this humble little house." I giggled, taking Penelope's arm and striding onwards. "Trust Ellie to say that! Well, I suppose it is a compliment, although I do prefer Italian Stallion. But Pasta Papa works too." Rossi said, suddenly smiling and breaking his unwavering stare and gesturing us on. "You have a lovely house, sir." JJ commented, awed as we moved from room to room. " 

I suppose it's the best thing these serial killers have ever done." He grimaced slightly, stopping briefly at the entrance to the kitchen. Turning around to look at me briefly, he narrowed his eyes before turning to the rest of us and smiling, pushing open the kitchen door and walking in. We entered the large room and were lucky enough to be blessed with the smell of Rossi's famous pasta sauce bubbling at the stove at the edge of the room, Morgan hovering over it as Reid chatted earnestly next to him. The room was pristine and practically dripped of money. A long island counter sat in the middle of the kitchen, leading out to a long ornate mahogany dinning table, the sort you'd find in an abandoned Victorian manor house. 

Past the dining room was a small sofa and a coffee table, a few armchairs sitting neatly next to them. A small, familiar dark cat lay on the sofa, claiming its comfortable territory with an odd purr every now and then. I followed JJ and Garcia, all of us practically running over to Morgan who was balancing of his crutches. "Chocolate Thunder!" Garcia shrieked, tugging him into a tight hug before me or JJ could get to him. "Hi babygirl, didn't I literally see you yesterday? Why're you so clingy?" Morgan asked, wincing as Garcia continued to hug him. "Careful, the poor guy's on crutches remember?" JJ warned, smiling as Penelope finally let go, patting Morgan on the back. 

"Oops." She simply said, winking at him. "Hi, Morgan, how're you feeling?" JJ asked, gently hugging him and attempting not to knock his crutches. "Been a lot better, it helps actually being able to walk." Morgan grimaced, as he pulled up his trouser leg, indicated to his cast, Penelope's loopy handwriting snaking across the white material. " Well, I'm sure you'll be perfectly fine soon, you poor thing." I pouted jokingly, pulling Morgan into a light hug and squeezing his shoulder. "I'm much better now, thanks." He smirked at us, relishing in the attention. Reid ambled over, waving as he greeted us all. 

Some small talk later, drinks in hand we wandered outside to Rossi's patio in his garden, our conversation floating away on the warm early evening breeze. A large table rested on the wooden floor in front of us, multiple strings of fairy lights weaved above a material canopy, a safety net in case of rain. My gaze lingered on the empty table, save for one occupied seat, the owner donning a crisp black shirt and smart trousers, his hair slicked back, shiny and dark. His firm hands held tight onto a glass of dark red wine, his eyes searching the new arrivals as we came out of the house and onto the patio. I faltered at the back of the group briefly, his stare trapping my heels in the ground, forbidding movement. 

I broke the gaze at the sound of seats being pulled out and laughing as everyone took their seats at the table, a ghost of a smile resting on Rossi's face as he passed me on his way back to the kitchen to collect our dinner. I frowned slightly, the last free seat, other than Rossi's which was naturally reserved at the head of the table, was across from Hotch. How convenient I thought sourly, smiling sweetly as I slipped into the chair, Hotch's face a few feet in front of mine. Taking a large  gulp of wine, I turned my body slightly to the left to catch the team's conversation. Reid was sat next to me, kindly giving a long explanation on the origins of pasta and Italy itself, rambling on about never feeling the need to ever visit Italy. 

Rossi emerged from the kitchen, balancing four large plates of our long awaited dinner with a proud grin on his face. "Who's ready to be utterly blown away by my world famous cooking?" He questioned, standing at the edge of the table and surveying us. "Oh my God, me please!" Garcia gushed, raising her hand wildly. "Me too, please. I don't have much Italian food to compare this to, but I'm sure it will taste nice." Reid said in a matter of fact tone, resting his hands on his lap and waiting patiently. Plates were placed in front of us, wine glasses refilled and an apple juice bottle replaced and side dishes lavishly resting on the table. 

After some recognition of Rossi's cooking ability, to which he smiled smugly, Penelope spoke up and offered to pay Rossi to cook for her once a week.he graciously replied saying he'd consider it. Conversation flowed easily as it always seemed to do with the 7 of us, laughter was fairly common, even Hotch chuckled every once in a while. He even participated in conversation! I had to admit, it was nice to see him relax and be somewhat of a normal person. I was sort of enjoying this, despite my earlier dread. 

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Author's Note: 

Yo yo yo guys! It seems we are halfway to 1k reads! AHHH. This chapter wasn't quite as connected if that makes sense. My writing, like most things I do, is very vague and distant lol, so sorry if it doesn't make much sense. Anyways, I also can't measure but let's just hope I got the rough distance between the Eleanor and Hotch right (at the table). 

Don't to forget to give some feedback! :)

Word count: 1305