CM Fic: "Gravel and Spit"

[bibliothekara]

Disclaimers: No member of the Criminal Minds team belongs to me, they belong to Bernero, Gordon, et al. I just have lots of fun playing in their sandbox. And all the lyrics quoted here in belong to the Man in Black, used in homage.
Rating: FRC. Completely cracky fluff fic. Only a few scattered salty words.
Genre: Gen/Crack-Fic/Song-Fic/Friendship
Spoilers:  None. Set in the nebulous near-future.
Characters: Rossi POV, starring the whole team.

Note: Title from the lyrics of Johnny Cash's "A Boy Named Sue". This fic was written because a)I have an awesome and unhealthy love for Johnny Cash, and b) I was listening to a live version of "Boy Named Sue" at work the other day while thinking about CM. So then this fic screamed at me until I wrote it. :)

Summary: Karaoke!Fic. David Rossi is the Lord of Chaos, especially where Hotch is concerned. Nefarious doings ensue, involving beer, the "kids", and his secret knowledge of Hotch's musical tastes.


******

If you were to ask him later, or in public, Dave Rossi would disavow responsibility for any and all parts of it. He's Senior Profiler, not Unit Chief, and certainly not anything close to a disciplinarian. And they were ostensibly off duty at the time, so there is that.

Secretly, though? Off the record? Rossi  would totally admit to being the instigator. If there's any title, any nickname or otherwise, that he's really enjoyed, it's "Lord of Chaos." Even if it was Erin Strauss herself who stuck him with that one, back (way, way back) in the day.

It certainly applied last night. Even if his instigation was limited to some judicious dispensing of information.

It had been one of those days. Not one of *those* days, when all anybody wanted to do was go back to their house or apartment, or even hotel room, take a hot shower, and curl up in bed.

No, it was one of those days that were classed under "as good as you're gonna get in this job." A serial arsonist, prolific, but caught before his fires had escalated to homicidal. Locked up, sent off for psych evaluation; you could almost feel the city at large release its held breath. Apparently the Minneapolis PD detective, Det. Edgar (Chauncey Edgar, if you could believe it) felt that the period had not been long enough to show the team that famed Minnesotan hospitality.

A situation that he had decided to rectify with a trip to his favorite local restaurant and watering hole, the Black Swan. And this is where Rossi hopes his deniability might kick in, because how could he have had any idea that Wednesday night was also the Swan's famous (or infamous) karaoke night?

The kids loved it, of course.

There had been a three-way conversation, between JJ, Emily, and Emily's cell phone. Emily's cell-phone, he found out later, had actually been a proxy for Garcia. Emily wanted "Goodbye Earl"; JJ wanted "Chain of Fools." A heated argument had ensued, with Garcia brought in as arbitrator. The Dixie Chicks won out.

Emily's many talents did not quite extend far enough to include singing. And in the light of day, he might have found it odd to watch two FBI agents sing a song glorifying murder. (Although, if he thought about it, cutting out that topic would get rid of a lot of good country songs.) But the two of them sang it with such damn-the-torpedoes enthusiasm that he couldn't manage to be too critical.

Dave had gotten his penance out of the way well before. Since some very early days, he had decided to sing one song, and one song only, at karaoke nights. "Strangers in the Night" was in his range, it was good, and he'd sung it so many times by now he could croon it in his sleep. Plus, this time, a mature but very attractive redhead was making eyes at him from across the room.

As he returned to their table, he had apparently been holding her gaze longer then he thought. He felt a tap on his shoulder as he sat down.

"No, Dave. Bad Dave. That way lies madness. And possibly alimony."

He turned to look at Hotch, smiling-no, smirking at him, through a glass of beer. The smart-aleck.

"You'll pay for that one, my friend."

No force on heaven or on earth was going to get Spencer Reid up there on the stage. Dave knew better than to try. But he did aid Reid as the young man goaded Morgan up to the stage.  However, that did not go as expected, as Morgan a) did a fairly creditable rendition of Living Colour's "Cult of Personality" and b) took a long long time to get back. Due mostly to the line of young ladies  trying  to hand him their numbers.

Dave leaned over towards Reid.

"Okay, boy genius, that royally backfired."

"Why are you blaming me? I didn't know he could sing that well. Or maybe he didn't, and it was just his natural charisma."

Rossi rolled his eyes; but as he did, he noticed Hotch at the other end of the table,  deep in conversation with Det. Edgar. He suddenly had a decade-old flash, and a very devious idea.

"Okay, we may have failed there, but I have another plan."

He opened the song binder, found the page he wanted, and pointed to a group of songs.

"Go with that one, and get Morgan and the girls in on it. I know he won't be able to resist."

Reid started to smile broadly, got up, and brought Morgan, Emily and JJ together in conference. As he watched them go towards the other end of the table, Rossi leaned back, and put his hands behind his head.

"I love it when a plan comes together."

Hotch knew Dave's tricks, and was pretty resistant to most of them. But he was not invincible. Or impervious to JJ Jareau and Emily Prentiss doing "puppy-dog-eyes" in unison. Even Edgar was getting in on the act, clapping the Unit Chief on the shoulder energetically.

Aha. He had won, Hotch was heading up towards the stage. The kids were still laughing and smiling to each other, but that began to trail off as a sonorous baritone echoed through the speakers.

"Well my daddy left home when I was three
And he didn't leave much to Ma and me
Just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze.
Now, I don't blame him cause he run and hid
But the meanest thing that he ever did
Was before he left, he went and named me "Sue." "

Within minutes, the four younger agents were back in their seats, eyes wide, mouths gaping.

"Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean,
My fist got hard and my wits got keen
Roam from town to town to hide my shame...."

Dave had not counted on the power of this particular song. Or that Hotch's stage fright had apparently gotten better in the last ten years. Morgan nudged him jokingly.

"Damn, man, you never told us Hotch could sing."

"I didn't think he could. Last time I saw him try, he was a BAU probie, faltering his way through, tripping all over the words to 'Ring of Fire." "

"At an old saloon on a street of mud,
There at a table, dealing stud,
Sat the dirty, mangy dog that named me "Sue."  "

Emily was sitting next to JJ, grinning like a Cheshire cat, half an eye on the conversation and the other half on the stage.

"Well, if that's true, he's certainly improved."

"Ohhhhh yeah. I think I'm in love."

That comment had come from JJ, who was mesmerized.

Emily playfully grasped her friend's arm.

"Down, girl, be good. Play nice, now."

"Oh, you're no fun."

At the next verse, Hotch's eyes darkened, just a shade, and he dipped his head. His voice got lower, and a little hoarse.

"Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad
From a worn-out picture that my mother'd had,
And I knew that scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old,
And I looked at him and my blood ran cold
And I said: "My name is 'Sue!' How do you do!
Now you gonna die!" "

Rossi couldn't say, that after the year they'd all had, that they didn't flinch a little at that line. And at the roughness in Hotch's voice while he sang it.

Maybe, he thought. Maybe's that's why he can sing the songs better now. Those ten, fifteen years under his belt.

"He went for his gun and I pulled mine first,
He stood there lookin' at me and I saw him smile. "

Hotch started to smile a little too, at that line. Dave relaxed, and leaned back again. That's the thing about the Man in Black. It's that Johnny and Hotch have seen the darkness, and come out the other side.

"And he said: "Son, this world is rough
And if a man's gonna make it, he's gotta be tough
And I know I wouldn't be there to help you along.
So I gave ya that name and I said goodbye
I knew you'd have to get tough or die
And it's the name that helped to make you strong." "

(Hotch had never talked a lot about his dad. Well, that wasn't true. He had talked. But in that studious Hotchly way where he never said a damn thing that he didn't explicitly want you to know.)

" He said: "Now you just fought one hell of a fight
And I know you hate me, and you got the right
To kill me now, and I wouldn't blame you if you do.
But ya ought to thank me, before I die,
For the gravel in ya guts and the spit in the eye
Cause I'm the son-of-a-bitch that named you "Sue.'" "

Hotch had put special emphasis on "son of a bitch", and the whole house roared. None more loudly then the table containing his team, for whom it was a special treat to hear Hotch even come close to a 'damn' or a 'hell'.

Dave glanced over at Reid, who seemed to be confused and enthralled at the same time. Reid felt the glance, and returned it.

"It's....it's new. I've never seen him do anything like this before."

"Well, treasure it, kid, because it's like a comet, it only comes around every once in a while."

"What could I do? What could I do?
I got all choked up and I threw down my gun
And I called him my pa, and he called me his son,
And I came away with a different point of view.
And I think about him, now and then,
Every time I try and every time I win,
And if I ever have a son, I think I'm gonna name him
Bill, or Jack! Anything but Sue! I still hate that name! "

There was another roar of applause as Hotch finished, and a standing ovation from his own table as he returned. The chaos died down, but Rossi didn't fail to notice as Hotch shifted positions to sit next to him. Judgment time.

"You told them to pick that song." (Somewhere in between a question and a statement.)

"Would it help me to lie and say I didn't?"

"I'd know."

"You certainly would."

Dave looked over, into what he knew was informally called the "Glare of Doom." He held it for a few seconds.

And then his friend started to smile; small, but genuine.

"Thanks. It was...fun."

"You need some fun in your life. You're my best friend, that's my job."

"And the team certainly seemed to be entertained."

"That's true enough."

"But next time, you're the sacrificial lamb. And I will make you sing something other than 'Strangers in the Night'."

"Understood."

Hotch turned back towards dinner and conversation. David Rossi, AKA the Lord of Chaos,  crossed his arms, and beamed beatifically.

*fin*