You had been on the brink of dozing off, but had fought against your heavy eyelids until Derek returned home safely. It had been guys night out; aka Dave dragging him to some top-shelf fancy bar, or whatever establishment the David Rossi enjoyed to frequent. The slower than normal pace echoed from down the hallway - locking the door, putting his coat away, peeing before bed - the usual. Finally he made his way into your shared bedroom, dropping soundly onto the bed beside you with a heavy exhale. His aim, however, a bit off - he landed nearly on top of you.

You could smell the small aroma of bourbon on his breath. He always drank just enough to be tipsy, smart and conscious of avoiding a brutal hangover, or an alert tending to.

“My sweet girl.”