csi_sanders1129 | Fic: Traditions

Title: Traditions
Chapters: 1/1
Author:

csi_sanders1129
Genre: Family. Friendship. Romance.
Ratings: T
Word Count: 5,139
Pairings/Characters: Aaron Hotchner/David Rossi, Jack Hotchner, BAU Team.
Synopsis: In which Hotch, Rossi and Jack entertain themselves after ten soccer games.
Comments: Written in response to cottoncandy_bingo prompt: sports. Characters not mine, please enjoy! Set after 6x22 (Out Of The Light) and continues on AU from there, with no appearances from Beth. First Hotch/Rossi fic. Comments are awesome.

After that first soccer game – which they won, whether or not the teams are really keeping score – Rossi takes Aaron and Jack out for a celebratory lunch, his treat.

They end up at Jack's favorite pizza place, comfortably seated – and for once not crammed in with the rest of the BAU team – in a booth in a corner of the restaurant.

"You didn't have to do this, you know," Hotch says, as he watches Dave play tic-tac-toe with Jack on the back of one of the colorable place-mats with the provided crayons.

Rossi looks up and half-smiles, "It's a tradition."

"Doesn't the basic idea of a tradition lie in the fact that it happens on a semi-regular basis?"

"So, we'll make it a tradition, then. After every game." Aaron laughs and shakes his head, probably about to say something about inevitably getting sick of pizza, but Rossi looks down in time to see Jack get a third big, green X in a row, so he groans in mock-dismay at his defeat. "You win, champ," he adds, ruffling Jack's hair just as a waiter arrives with their pizza.

The second game Hotch and Rossi coach ends in a loss – at least in their minds, most of the kids are honestly just enjoying playing – but it's mostly because the other team has been around longer, played a few more games.

Once it's over, Rossi drives them to an ice-cream shoppe for some conciliatory snackage. They claim a wooden bench set on the side of the building. Jack is enjoying a small sundae complete with rainbow sprinkles, and Hotch and Rossi are sipping idly at milkshakes.

"There," Rossi says, "this way we won't get sick of pizza."

"Fair enough," Hotch concedes with a laugh. There's a park across the street, so once they're finished their desserts, they walk over to let Jack play off his resulting sugar high. Two kids from the soccer team, twins Caleb and Cassie are there, too, so the three of them spend a good while running around and playing games that could only be concocted in the imaginative minds of five year olds, while the grown-ups chat amicably nearby.

Eventually, the twins are called to leave, and Jack returns, worn out but happy. By the time Rossi drops them off at home, Jack is asleep and Aaron carries him in. "See you tomorrow, Dave," he calls back over his shoulder.

They're just off an exhausting four-day case in Montana when Jack's next game comes. Hotch and Rossi are both dead on their feet and seriously jetlagged – having only gotten off of the plane less than three hours ago – but somehow the team manages a win against a pretty impressive opponent.

"Still up for our post-game ritual today, or are you in favor of getting some well-deserved shut eye?" Aaron offers the out, as the three of them head for Rossi's car once the match ends.

"Another hour probably won't kill us," Rossi says, smiling as Hotch swings Jack off of his shoulders and into the backseat in one surprisingly smooth movement. "So I'm in if you are."

Aaron nods. "What about you, Jack? Up for trying that burger place Caleb and Cassie were talking about?"

He gets an enthusiastic "Yeah!" in response and so they're off.

Hotch and Rossi have both yawned upwards of twenty times by the time they're even seated at the restaurant. It's still a little too early for the lunch rush, even on a Sunday, so the place is relatively quiet and mellow with some popular radio station playing softly in the background and a few scattered TV's tuned to various channels on mute. They're food arrives with impressive speed as a result of the lull in customers, before Jack can even finish the word search and mazes on his paper place-mat.

Rossi yawns his way through the last few bites of his meal and raises an eyebrow when he catches Hotch watching him with concern. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"You okay to drive?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," He assures the other man, shrugging off the question.

Hotch looks decidedly unconvinced. "Stay at the apartment for a while, get some rest. It's only five minutes from here, Dave."

Jack grins up at him, seemingly excited by the prospect. "Yeah! We can all play later!"

Rossi doesn't bother arguing. He knows he's not going to be driving back to his place anytime soon. Not when they're teaming up on him like this. "Alright, you win."

Having thoroughly defeated whatever meager resolve Rossi may have had against the idea, the three of them depart just a few minutes later and head for Hotch's apartment. Instead of driving off when he pulls up in front of the building as he usually does, he parks and follows Aaron and Jack inside. After restful naps all around, Jack coerces them into watching a few episodes of a Captain America cartoon. Dave doesn't leave for home until late that night, but he doesn't mind at all.

"Aaron!" Someone calls out after him as he and Rossi and Jack head for the car after another victorious game. "Aaron, Dave, wait!"

It's Caleb and Cassie's Dad chasing after them, Hotch turns around to see. "Yes? Owen, right?"

He nods, offers a hand. "That'd be me. Sarah sent me over to see if Jack would be at all interested in going to the zoo with Cassie and Caleb? Our older daughter, Hannah, was supposed to go with us, but she is evidently convinced that she is far too mature to go to the zoo with all of us and conveniently, a friend had a 'dire shopping emergency' that she 'simply couldn't allow to continue'. So. We have an extra pass and the twins would probably enjoy Jack's company more anyway." He explains, complete with air quotes where necessary.

Aaron and Dave are both admittedly amused by this satiric rant and they both look down to Jack, who looks excited by the mere prospect of a zoo trip. "What do you say, Jack? Wanna go?"

Jack's response is an extremely enthusiastic one and Aaron sends him off – after a quick hug – to join the equally ecstatic twins, and Owen promises to call when they're on their way back to town.

Once Jack is gone, Aaron and Dave are left behind, among the few who are still lingering by the practice fields. "So, I guess it's just us for our post-game tradition, then." Hotch says, though at least they can postpone their trip back to the pizza place.

"Come to my place, I'll make us something." Dave suggests and Aaron easily agrees.

A few hours later, Owen calls to ask if it's okay for Jack to spend the night. It is, and after a fair amount of wine to compliment Dave's cooking, Hotch ends up spending the night at Rossi's, too.

When Jack goes down hard in the middle of a game, Rossi's the one who manages to get to him first.

"It's okay, champ," he says, trying to soothe the boy, but Jack's wailing already and Dave spots the damage easily enough with the just-off angle Jack's left arm is at. He braces it carefully with his own, which unfortunately, does nothing to stop the crying, as he hefts Jack up and into his arms and off of the field.

Aaron is beside him in seconds, looking Jack over and Dave sees that he's clearly come to the same conclusion when his face goes completely pale at the sight of Jack's arm.

"Should I call an ambulance?" One of the other parents asks, but Rossi shakes his head. They can probably get to the ER faster than that.

"You want me to drive?" He asks, knowing that Aaron won't be up for that right now. He gets a nod in response to his question and then he's carefully transferring the still screaming Jack into his father's arms. He mumbles out obvious instructions for someone else to take over the game as he leads Aaron and Jack to the car and gets them settled in the back.

He makes it to the ER with impressive speed and the fact that Hotch doesn't comment on his semi-reckless driving tells Rossi all he needs to know concerning his understandable level of focus on Jack.

They're leaving the ER inside of three hours. Jack is sporting a fiberglass cast covered in a light blue wrap, supported by a sling. He's groggy from pain medications and he was mostly asleep already in Rossi's arms while Hotch filled out ridiculous amounts of release paperwork, and he's totally out by the time they're back in the car.

"Want me to stick around for a little while?" Rossi asks, when he pulls up in front of Aaron's apartment. He hopes the answer is yes, because he's not sure that he wants to leave either Aaron or Jack right now, not like this.

Luckily, Aaron nods, "Yeah, come on."

He leads the way, since Aaron's arms are full of a sleepy five year old, holding doors and typing in the code for the alarm system and keying open several impressive locks – the lingering effects of Foyet's bloody assaults and brutal mental warfare – and then he watches Hotch disappear long enough to get Jack settled in his room.

"Are you okay?" Rossi asks, once Hotch reappears. Now that Jack isn't present, Dave can tell Aaron's letting some of his walls down, letting himself look almost as destroyed as he clearly feels. While Rossi's glad that he's not hiding it, he doesn't like seeing Hotch look so… broken. "When I was seven," he offers, "my brother broke my nose. In fifth grade, I broke my collarbone playing kickball. Kids get hurt, Aaron, they break things. It happens. It sucks, but it happens."

And it's not like he doesn't know that already. Their job has proved that time and time again, through much more violent circumstances. Hell, Hotch's life has proved that – images of Foyet's attack and finding Haley flash in his mind – but all he says is, "I know, but it's Jack."

"He'll be fine," Rossi insists, "He'll be showing off his cast and letting the soccer team sign it at their next practice, just you watch. He's strong, like Haley, like you." He claps a hand on Aaron's back in what is meant to be a reassuring gesture, but he lets it linger there for a moment to better gauge Hotch's tension level – high, but falling – before he moves away.

Hotch smiles softly, letting out a long sigh as he lets go of some of his stress. "Jack'll be out for a while, probably, but what do you say we call for some take-out to preserve our post-game ritual? I'll buy this time."

"Sounds good," Dave agrees, and he feels sure that things will be okay. "Chinese okay? I'll call it in."

The team has one late game during the season – an anomaly in the typical absurdly early game schedule that no one can quite make sense of or otherwise figure out. For Jack's team, it falls on a Saturday, and ends in a win. The game comes to its conclusion just before nine at night, and so most of their post-game stops are either closed or ridiculously crowded.

Luckily, they anticipated this problem, and Dave has prepared accordingly. Back at his place, along with Mudgie (whom Jack is eager to meet), awaits a homemade pizza and an array of newly purchased Disney movies that Hotch claims that Jack has never seen.

Ultimately, after two slices of Dave's awesome pizza, Jack falls asleep. This happens on the couch, where he's curled up with the reliable Labrador, in the middle of the Lion King.

"You know, if you want to stay," Rossi says, when he catches Hotch looking like he's about to suggest taking Jack home, "there are plenty of spare rooms."

Hotch nods and moves to wake Jack (he's learned that Jack is not a fan of magically relocating in the middle of the night) so that he can go back to sleep someplace more comfortable. "We're gonna stay here tonight, Jack," he tells his son. "Come on."

Rossi leads them to a room just down the hall, painted blue with a small bed tucked against one wall (he might've done some redecorating once spending his weekends with Aaron and Jack turned into a regular thing) and he'd even managed to find a nightlight in the depths of a closet somewhere. "Here you go, champ," he says, plugging in the nightlight by the door.

"Can Mudgie stay with me?" Jack asks, voice full of hope as the dog sits calmly at Rossi's side, tail wagging.

"Yeah," Rossi says, nodding at the dog with permission to break the usual household rules and jump on the furniture. Mudgie gives a contended 'whuff,' and hops up, curling up along Jack's side with his head on the boy's shoulder.

"If you need anything, just come and get us, okay?" Aaron tells him, ruffling Jack's hair and kissing him goodnight.

"'kay," Jack agrees, cuddling with the dog and already almost back asleep.

They return to the living room, whereupon Hotch switches out the Lion King for a less kid-friendly movie and Rossi grabs some wine from the kitchen. They watch the film in relative silence, occasionally broken by a comment or quip about what's going on screen, but by the end (by the time the wine has started to kick in) their attention wanders. They're kissing when the credits roll, even if they don't exactly know which one of them started it.

"My room is down the hall," he says, weighing his words carefully. "Or, if you want it, there's another spare room across from Jack's."

Aaron only considers the options for a second before he stands and offers a hand to Dave, "your room it is."

They manage to only miss one game the entire season, which is pretty impressive considering how often their jobs tend to take them away at a moment's notice. And they miss it not because they're out of town, as the case they were working was just over the Maryland line, but because things get out of control and Rossi ends up injured.

An UnSub makes one last desperate attempt at escape before he opts to commit suicide by cop in lieu of facing multiple kidnapping and murder charges. He gets a few good shots off before the SWAT guys take him out once and for all. A state trooper takes a bad hit in the stomach; Rossi takes two bullets – one rips through his shoulder and another grazes his side. The trooper nearly bleeds out on the way to the hospital, but Rossi is more or less okay, all things considered.

He earns himself an admission and they've got him on some pretty heavy pain medications, ones that make him feel groggy and out of it, but he's awake when the game should be starting. He sends a text to Hotch that's says 'Good Luck,' but he hears the sound of a phone going off just outside the door to his room and that is some decidedly odd timing.

Sure enough, Aaron appears a second later, with Jack right behind him. "You're awake," he says with a smile. "Good."

"That was me," Rossi says, when Hotch reaches for his phone to see what the text message was. "I thought you'd be at the game by now."

"Owen's covering the coaching for today. Jack and I thought we'd stick around until they get bored of poking and prodding you and let you go home. Which will be with us until you're better."

"We brought soup, Uncle Dave!" Jack announces, holding up a plastic grocery bag that's been tied tightly around a take-out container of what Haley had once declared the best soup she'd ever tasted. She'd said it tasted exactly like her grandmother's, a recipe she'd never managed to mirror and anytime Jack or Aaron were sick or hurt, soup would be the answer. Jack insisted upon keeping that tradition alive (as well as continuing their usual game-day ritual) when Aaron told him his Uncle Dave had been hurt. "You'll feel better."

"Thanks, champ," Rossi says, taking the bag with his good arm. Hotch pulls the soup out for him because it's kind of a two-handed job and one of his arms is presently immobilized. "The getting out of here bit. Can that be soon? I'm fine."

Aaron shakes his head, smiling fondly. "I think you'll change your mind on that once the good drugs wear off, but I'll go check with the doctor."

Jack stays behind, perched on the edge of Rossi's hospital bed. His own cast is coming off soon, as covered in messy signatures and indecipherable doodles as it is. It hasn't slowed him down at all. "Are you gonna get a cast, too? Daddy said your arm is hurt."

"It is, but I don't get a cast like yours."

Aaron returns before Jack can say anything else, bringing news that Dave can go home in a few hours if he's still doing okay. It's not the news he was looking for, but it's better than being forced to stay overnight.

"Can I give it to him now?" Jack asks, suddenly bouncing with impatience.

"What?"

"I suppose." Aaron answers, rather unhelpfully, and passes Jack the backpack he left on the floor by the door. Jack digs through it and pulls out a card made of giant neon red poster board. There's a soccer ball drawn on the front (Rossi suspects Cassie and Caleb's older sister, since Jack was staying with them while they'd been working on the case) and a neatly printed 'Get Well Soon!' that doesn't scream that it's the handwriting of a five year old. Inside, though, those are definitely five year old signatures, all scrawled in varying shades of crayon and with varying degrees of legibility.

"The whole team signed it for you!" Jack says, happily pointing out each one of the names as if Dave can't read them himself (though, to be fair, some of them are a bit sketchy). He lands on his own signature (one that Rossi does recognize because he's gotten doodles from Jack before) and the message scrawled, bigger than most and centrally located that comes with it reads: 'We love you, get better!'

And Rossi finds himself smiling, which is not normal behavior in a hospital. He ruffles Jack's hair, with a sort of awed, "thank you," and eats his soup under the watchful eyes of both Aaron and Jack and wants even more to get out of here because it will mean going home with them. He and Aaron still haven't talked about what happened between them after the last game, but maybe, just maybe, when they do have that conversation, that - going home with Aaron and Jack, watching movies, making dinner, everything else - can be a regular thing, too.

They get halfway through one of the last games of the season when the skies open up and let out a torrential downpour of rain upon the unsuspecting families gathered on the soccer fields. Everyone is immediately soaked through, the cold rain drenching them with impressive force, and gaggles of people are running for cars or cover since the game is obviously called on account of the unexpected weather.

Aaron and Dave and Jack pile into the car and head out, back to Aaron's apartment because it's closer and the roads are kind of awful.

They rush into the apartment from the car, getting thoroughly soaked once again, even with the short distance, and step carefully once they're inside in an attempt to contain their dripiness.

"Okay," Hotch sighs, dragging a hand through his wet hair to get it out of his face. They can see the downpour through the window and it looks like it's coming down even harder now. "Dave, you're not going anywhere until this blows over some."

"Wasn't planning on it," Rossi answers, holding up the go-bag in his hand.

"Good."

There are hot showers (or baths, in Jack's case) all around. Wet clothes are thrown in the washer, dry clothes are put on, and the three of them end up circled around the counter in the kitchen contemplating lunch.

"I make a mean tomato soup and grilled cheese," Rossi offers, even though everyone knows he can make pretty much everything. "That sound good, Jack?"

Jack grins a huge grin and nods enthusiastically. "Yeah! Can I watch?"

"Sure, champ," Rossi agrees.

"The pots and pans are under-"

"Under the stove, I know," he says, preventing Aaron from telling him what he already knows. He spends a few minutes gathering ingredients, moving easily around the kitchen almost as if it is his own. Hotch watches, amused and kind of impressed (but then Rossi would learn the layout of his meager kitchen in no time flat, it's nothing in comparison to his monstrously huge one). Rossi has everything laid out now and sets to work with a practiced sort of skill that awes Jack into silent observance. Rossi even narrates as he goes.

Before long (though longer than usual because Rossi uses real tomatoes to make the soup and not the stuff that comes out of a can) they're all sitting around enjoying the warm, rainy day meal over contented conversations.

It rains the rest of the afternoon and then long into the night, the downpour building into a windy, thundery, lightning filled storm that makes the power flicker from time to time. There are reports on the news of a barrage of traffic accidents nearby that will make getting back to his place annoyingly cumbersome. "I guess I should stay," Rossi says, though he sounds hardly disappointed about it. "If that's okay?"

"It's okay," Aaron says, listening for movement from Jack's room. When no sounds come (unsurprisingly, since they put Jack to bed nearly an hour ago), he catches Dave's hand and says, "My room's just down the hall, too."

Rossi grins. "Lead the way."

One early morning Hotch and Jack arrive at the soccer fields to find most of the rest of the BAU team on the sidelines already.

Jack greets each of them with hugs (sans cast, finally) and Aaron stands amongst them once he runs off to join the other kids to kick the ball around as a warm-up for the game that's about to start. "What're you guys doing here?"

"We had to see you and Rossi coach, boss man," Garcia tells him, "and there're only a few games left in the season, right?"

"Right," he confirms.

"And we were thinking we could have a barbeque afterward," Morgan puts in. "We've got most of the supplies stowed in the cars, but JJ and Will offered up their backyard for it. Jack and Henry can hang out."

Prentiss approaches from the parking lot, holding a cup of coffee like it's a lifeline, "ugh. Why are these games so early in the morning?"

Morgan laughs, "Late night?"

"Pfft," she sighs, "I wish."

Reid, however, looks unaffected by the early hour. "Did you know that some version of football - or as those in the United States, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, and some parts of the UK call it, soccer - has been around since at least the 700's. Records before that are-"

"Ah, but the rules of this game were only established in 1863," Rossi says, appearing from nowhere with Mudgie on his heels. The team turns to look at him, surprised that he'd one-upped Reid. "Hey, I know soccer. Why do you think I'm coaching?" A pause, as he watches members of the team exchange suspiciously amused looks, "What?"

He's prevented from defending himself further, or ending up in a soccer-knowledge back and forth with Reid when Jack rockets up to him with a happy exclamation of, "Uncle Dave!" and an impressive tackle hug. Mudgie gets an equally fervent welcome.

The team watches on, laughing, as Jack doubles back to the soccer field as if he never left.

"How come none of us got that kind of welcome?" Morgan asks, feigning insult.

Rossi laughs and responds accordingly, "because he likes me better."

"C'mon, Dave," Aaron says, catching Rossi's good elbow to draw him onto the field. "We've got a game to win."

Rossi smiles and passes Mudgie's leash to Morgan and follows after Hotch. "You guys enjoy the game!"

"Did you know about the barbeque thing?" Hotch asks, once they're out of earshot.

"I may have brought Mudgie so that we have an excuse to leave it early," he answers. "I love the team, but I like our post-game rituals more." All of the rituals, the dinners and the more personal ones he shares with Aaron after Jack is tucked in bed.

Aaron laughs, mumbles something like, "me, too," and calls to the kids to get their attention.

"It's been a great season, everyone. Hopefully, we'll see some of you again next year," Hotch announces at the team's end of year pizza party. The room is filled to bursting with excited five year olds in red and black uniforms and the hordes of proud parents that they belong to.

A cheer erupts around the room and one of the other parents proposes a toast - with soda, of course - to Coach Aaron and Coach Dave for all of their hard work this season, and they're presented with a framed team photo and a card on which all of the kids have written their names.

Jack is sitting with some of the other kids, including Caleb and Cassie, which leaves Hotch and Rossi to the task of chatting with the other adults, swarmed with compliments on their coaching and for the win the kids pulled off today.

"Does this count as our post-game?" Dave asks, when they get a moment's break from the barrage of accolades. They're both watching the chaos unfold around them with something like amused horror.

Hotch laughs, "if so, it's my least favorite."

"And that's saying something, considering the ones we've spent in the hospital," Dave jokes. "But, good. I, ugh. Had a plan. For later," he admits. "Jack's still staying at Caleb and Cassie's tonight, right?" A nod. "Then I'm cooking dinner for you." Which is not the same thing as homemade pizza or real tomato soup or the spur of the moment dinner they shared during Jack's unplanned zoo trip, Hotch knows, it doesn't even compare.

"I'm not going to argue with that," Aaron says, laughing lightly. "Is there a special occasion I forgot about?"

"No," Rossi says, "But, I was thinking," he pauses, like he wasn't planning on asking this here, now. "Maybe you and Jack could move in with me? Keeping the apartment might be a good idea, so Strauss doesn't get on our case about this thing between us, and it's a lot closer to DC than my place, but if you wanted..."

And Aaron's kind of staring at him in confusion, which is pretty fair since this is a pretty big sort of question to drop in the middle of a pizza place while a post-season soccer party is going on. But, then he's ducking his head and smiling, and "yeah. If you don't mind us invading your house," he says, amending it with, "and Jack spoiling your dog like crazy, then yeah. Yes. I'd like that."

Rossi lets out a relieved breath (proving that he had been decidedly nervous about the answer) and smiles. "Good. And Mudgie could do with some spoiling. I haven't been around much lately. He and Jack can make use of the backyard whenever they want."

"He'll like that," Aaron assures him. "And maybe we can turn that spare bedroom that I won't be using into a playroom or something." He knows it's a pointless statement - Dave's house, rather mansion, has plenty of other spare rooms that could also be a playroom for Jack, but his message is clear.

"Hm. Now there's an idea. We can discuss that over dessert."

"I get dessert, too?" Hotch jokes. "You must really want me around."

"You bet," Rossi replies, but the rest of their teasing is cut off when Owen approaches, telling them that he and the twins (and Jack) are heading out soon.

Dave and Aaron take that as their cue to leave, as well.

"Careful now," Dave stresses, standing beside Jack in front of the stove. "You think it's ready yet?"

"Uh huh," the little boy agrees, watching the pan in front of them intently for the signs of bubbling around the edges that his Uncle Dave had told him about. "Look, there they are!"

"Right, champ." He uses the spatula to flip the pancakes effortlessly, tossing it in the air a ways before it drops back into the pan on its uncooked side.

Jack stares at him in awe, "Wow! How'd you do that?"

Rossi grins, "you'll learn. Don't worry." The other side is done now, so he scoops it out and slides it onto the plate full of pancakes that Jack is holding. "Now for the chocolate chip ones?"

"Yes!" Jack exclaims, trading the finished plate for the bowl of batter. "Here!"

He's amazed by the shapes the pancakes take. This one comes out looking like Mickey Mouse. The last one was spider-shaped.

This is the sight that Aaron finds when he wanders into the kitchen. Dave and Jack, still in pajamas, standing in the kitchen cooking together, Mudgie lying contently on the floor nearby, and a table already set for three. He shouldn't be surprised. This is the new tradition, now that soccer season is over, cooking breakfast together every weekend. Sometimes he helps, too, but they'd both woken up before him today. He can't say he minds.

He's smiling as he crosses the room, surprising Jack with a kiss on the top of his head, and then a hair ruffle before he moves on to Dave, offering him a longer kiss on the lips. "Morning," he says. "Anything I can help with?"

"Orange juice?" Rossi suggests. "My assistant and I have got the pancakes covered."

Jack grins and points out the bubbles again, declaring that, "It's ready!" just in case Dave didn't already know.

"Good job."

Aaron watches them both as he pours out three glasses of orange juice. Rossi's plating the last pancake and Jack happily brings the plate over to the table. Dave brings the necessary toppings (strawberries and blueberry's and homemade syrup, to be chosen from however they see fit) and together they sit down to enjoy their tradition as a rather unexpected family.