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Cigar smoke hung with an almost blue tint as Rossi considered the information before him. The message had been scrawled quickly and signed in typical Abbiati fashion. The A visible with the rest of it being a scribble and the contents of the message made his blood run cold. There was a photo attached- one of those Polaroids that had been popular in the early nineties.
Rossi had known making out with Aaron while he'd been wearing his bulletproof vest had been a bad idea.
The truth was, though, the hostage situation at the bank had left Rossi worried and he had needed the reassurance that the other man was alright. But that led to a back-alley make-out session just feet away from his team and him still in his negotiation gear.
But there it was, plain as day- Rossi with his arms around the man's neck, the kiss deep and obviously passionate- and Agent Hotchner in his FBI vest, fingers clutched in the lapels of Rossi's jacket.
And the accompanying note-
He's next, -A. Abiatti
At least the guy had had the decency (stupidity) to sign his threat. But now, he didn't know how old the note was, where it had been found- the time limits he had to work under. Which meant... it meant that he needed to move.
This was personal, of course, so Rossi didn't call in back-up and instead, grabbed the Walther PPK from his desk drawer and added the silencer to it. He slid it in to the shoulder holster that he was wearing and stood. He was frowning as he tucked the note into his pocket, along with the picture, and then stepped out of his office.
"I'm going out," he noted to the men playing cards in the outer room, and shrugged his coat on, before stepping out in to the evening air. He took his most unobtrusive car- a beat up old jalopy bought for the way it didn't stand out anywhere, and drove a familiar route, to a familiar street, to a familiar house.
It was personal and he knew Abiatti would be sending a hit man, but that would be of no object for Rossi. He would be sending the appropriate message too- you absolutely did not fuck with Rossi's people.
Aaron was home- he saw his car in the driveway and the lights were on, the television visible through the window. And Aaron too, as he played video games with Jack, and Rossi watched, his heart warming and melting at the sight. But this- watching the shadows for something bad to happen- this was why he had kept to himself before this.
He saw the movement, slipping through the streets, silent and dark but not invisible. If Aaron only knew how close it had come, he would probably leave. Which was why Rossi had to make sure he never knew. He slipped from the seat of his car and made his way towards the back door. The man was crouched down, waiting for the right time, in the bushes.
"You fucked with the wrong man, Abiatti," Rossi told him coldly. He didn't hesitate with the trigger press, either. Silencers did not actually silence a shot completely and though it wasn't ear shattering, it was as loud as a dog barking. This close to the house, Aaron would surely hear. But Rossi had a lot of experience with this.
He knew Aaron would take the time to grab his gun first and get Jack to safety; if Foyet had done anything, it was to make Aaron even more vigilant, and Rossi knew that; could count the seconds it would take. Rossi had experience though, carrying dead bodies, and he hauled it in to his trunk. By the time Aaron was out of the house, Rossi was already gone.
Rossi dumped the body in front of Abiatti's personal residence, so that the other man would know- Rossi knew where he lived. And then he said goodbye to his beloved Walther PPK and dumped it in the Great Dismal Swamp.
As for Aaron, well, he was safe, though confused. He saw the shell casing and the blood and he called in the crime scene unit to check both. There were no matches in either IBIS or CODIS, though, leaving Aaron to wonder just what had happened.
Rossi came to visit the following day and Aaron mentioned the odd occurrence and Rossi, like he often had to with Aaron, lied.
"That is odd," Rossi said with a frown, "It's too bad that they weren't able to identify who it was. Surely someone will file a missing person's report, and then you'll have a lead."
That night, he curled up on the couch with Jack and Aaron and they watched Batman versus Dracula and then, once Jack was in bed, Rossi took Aaron to bed.
Later, curled up and still damp with sweat from exertion, Rossi whispered, "I'd kill for you, you know."
Aaron chuckled, not knowing the truth.
Not knowing Rossi's actual money-making enterprise.
"You're such a romantic," Aaron said gently and Rossi held the younger man to his chest and threaded his fingers into his hair.
"I guess I am that," Rossi agreed. But Aaron would never know how true that was; but he would personally see to it that no harm came to Aaron or Jack.
And any and all blood on his hands from that would be worth it.