A bottle of wine begs to be shared. [ OTA ]

[hell_ofa_thing]

It was, perhaps, not the most likely of sights: a seasoned FBI profiler, serving wine to various patrons. This wasn't just any wine bar, though; he was particular about wine (fussy, Emily would say), but this place mostly met his standards, and the people who tended to frequent Veritas had good taste, too, otherwise he would have left a while ago.

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[noheatnikki]

Kate had taken to wandering around the village, trying to familiarize herself with places and people. When she noticed the wine bar, she smiled to herself. She liked the feel of the place before she even walked in. A glass of wine would be a nice end to a somewhat stressful day. Stressful week, really. Yes, wine was a good idea.

She took a seat at the end of the bar furthest from the bar and with her back to as few people as possible. Old habits were hard to break. She picked up the menu and looked it over, trying to decide.

[hell_ofa_thing]

The position she'd taken at the bar, and the way she held herself, was all intriguing purely from the perspective of analyzing human behavior. Long day, long week, and she'd found herself here, like so many others before her.

He certainly understood how pleasant a nice glass of wine could be after an arduous week. He set down a few glasses he'd just dried, waiting to approach until she'd had a few minutes to look at the menu.

"Still looking, or can I get you something?"

[noheatnikki]

She looked up from the menu. The man in front of her seemed both very suited and very out of place in the establishment, somehow simultaneously.

He was a handsome, distinguished older man, the kind of man Kate had always appreciated. She smiled a bit.

"A glass of Pinot Noir, American preferably."

[hell_ofa_thing]

He preferred red wines, but as white wines went, that was a good choice. There was a look of approval in the smile he returned to her.

While he poured her a glass, he said, "You haven't been in the village long, have you?" There was nothing too obvious in her demeanor to suggest that, it was just a look he'd gotten used to seeing in people who had only recently arrived in the village.

[noheatnikki]

She grinned her thanks as she took the wine, sipping it slowly, then nodding her approval.

"Am I that obvious?"

[hell_ofa_thing]

"I know that look," he supplied, a shrug implied in his posture. With the bottle set down, he leaned into the bar a bit as they spoke.

"It's a hell of an adjustment period." It had been for him, anyway. "So when did you arrive?"

[noheatnikki]

Kate took another slow sip of wine before she replied. Though she felt comfortable with this man, she still didn't see the need to divulge too much information.

"A few days ago. I walked out of work and into this village. Been playing catch up ever since."

She looked around the bar.

"How about you? You've been here long enough to run this place, at least."

[hell_ofa_thing]

He kept things close to the cuff at first, too, so he understood the preference to talk about things like this: straight, simple facts, and nothing too personal.

"A few months," he said. Really, it had been more than six months, which was technically more than just 'a few,' but saying that always made the reality of it annoy him a little. "I don't run the place, but I have a passion for wine. And the job I do back home isn't something they're really in need of here." Which is...a good thing, really, even if that means he gets really damn restless, which feels weird to think about.

"I'm a criminal profiler with the FBI," he clarifies.

[noheatnikki]

Kate's mouth made a little 'o' of understanding when he told her his job. She shrugged slightly.

"I guess that means I'm out of work, too. I'm a cop. NYPD."

[hell_ofa_thing]

NYPD. That didn't surprise him at all, actually. "There's a police force here, but it's...not what we're used to." Rossi had never been a cop, he'd been recruited directly by the FBI out of the Marines, so being on a police force in a relatively quiet village wasn't really his thing.

"I'm from Long Island, myself," he offered, "though I moved away when I was eighteen."

[noheatnikki]

Kate smiled.

"Somehow I don't think the crime here is exactly what I'm used to. I work homicide. And I'm New York born and raised."

[hell_ofa_thing]

If she worked homicide, that most certainly meant she could understand. Maybe it was a strange choice, to avoid the police force entirely, but was a particular kind of guy, and he was also not exactly the most humble person, so he also felt like his talents could be put to better use than being a patrol cop here in this quiet village.

"I'd rather work an interrogation than hand out tickets for jaywalking," he said, imagining she felt similarly. "And I haven't seen any need for people to be interrogated around here. Crime is pretty straightforward." Some drug problems, theft, nothing too intense.