Disclaimer: as always, I own nothing, no copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: This is a kind of thought experiment on my part. Just imagine if CBS stopped producing Criminal Minds after the episode 'Lauren'. Imagine instead that another channel picked it up. Say, for example, the Sci-Fi picked it up. Suppose they brought back both JJ and Emily and planned to keep Seaver around for an extended period of time. Then the rest of the season might unfold like this.

Just a warning, this is going to be a little like CM meets the Twilight Zone. So, I'll understand if that's not your cup of tea.

Well, you've heard the expression 'His face would stop a clock'? Well, Harvey can look at your clock and stop it. And you can go anywhere you like — with anyone you like — and stay as long as you like. And when you get back, not one minute will have ticked by. ... You see, science has overcome time and space. Well, Harvey has overcome not only time and space — but any objections.

- Elwood P Dowd in the movie Harvey

Emily Prentiss was dead. At least, that was the official story. That's what her friends, neighbors, family, and co-workers were told. She died at the hands of a terrorist named Ian Doyle, who escaped. So, as far as the civilian world was concerned, Emily Prentiss was dead.

Of course, that doesn't mean she was really dead. The real truth is that she was alive and living in Europe. It's important that fact is understood. While Emily was officially dead, she was living under a series of assumed names in Europe. Her death meant Doyle wouldn't be targeting her friends and associates. It also put her in a position to hunt Ian Doyle without his expecting it.

If you don't understand that was reality, what happens next won't seem that fantastic. It began with a simple conversation at a cafe in Paris. The woman once known as Emily Prentiss was sitting at a table outside a cafe, sipping coffee, when a voice said, "I'm glad you aren't watering that down with Splenda."

Emily looked up to see a tall, lean man in a white linen suit. Without her inviting him, he sat down.

"I mean, I think coffee should be enjoyed without diluting its greatness with cream, sugar or those God-awful sugar substitutes. Tell me the truth, Emily, isn't this better without Splenda?"

Emily looked at him and said,"You must have me confused with someone else, Monsieur." She discreetly reached for her gun underneath the table. She pointed it at him under the table.

"Now relax, Emily, I'm not one of Ian Doyle's associates. That's a very bad man. I wouldn't want to be in the same room as him for five minutes, let alone the length of time you spent with him."

"I don't know what you're talking about. You have me confused with someone else."

"Is that why you have your Glock pointed at me?" the man asked with amusement. Then he let out a little sigh. "Please, trust me. I need you to trust me."

"Why?"

"So you can help a mutual friend of ours."

"And who would that be?"

"Why, Dr. Spencer Reid, of course."

"How do you know Dr. Reid?"

"We're old friends, he and I. He doesn't like to acknowledge me, though. It really saddens me. But you know how it feels to be hurt by him, don't you?"

"That's none of your business."

"Sure it is. It's how I know you can help him. Because he likes you a lot. You're just the person to help him right now."

"You seem to know a lot about me. So you know I can't go help him right now. Whatever trouble he's having right now, helping him isn't worth risking his life."

"Oh I wouldn't put his life in jeopardy. Or yours. But, he is in jeopardy right now. And I think you are just the person to help him."

"And just what kind of trouble is he in?"

"I think he's about ready to start using."

"What do you mean using?"

"Oh, I forgot. You and the team don't acknowledge those issues out loud, do you? You just keep it all bottled up. Maybe that's why you didn't share your problem with them."

"That's none of your business."

"Your problems? Maybe not. Spencer's are though."

"Why?"

"Because I'm his friend. How about you? Are you his friend? Would you help him if you could?"

"But I can't. If I go near him..."

"No one will know."

"People will know."

"No they won't. I can get you there and back without anyone being the wiser."

"And how would you do that?"

"Are you willing to help?"

She sighed. "Of course I want to help him."

"Then put your gun away."

She hesitated.

"Come on," he said," do you really think I'm here to hurt you? Is that what the profiler in you says?"

She thought about it for a minute. She put her gun away, knowing it was a risk. "So how will you get me there without anyone knowing?"

"Like this." He snapped his fingers, and suddenly Emily was no longer outside the cafe in Paris. Suddenly, she was in Reid's apartment at night. Emily looked around, and the man in the linen suit was nowhere to be found. None of this made sense. Was she dreaming?

She heard Reid's voice.

"Useless. You are just a bunch of useless words on pages." He was standing in front of his massive bookcase looking at all the books. "You are not helping."

"You know they can't talk back, right?" Emily could see Reid tense up when he heard her voice.

"You're not real."

"I'm as real as you are." At this point, she wasn't certain how true that was.

"No you're not. You're dead. You are not here."

Emily moved so she was standing in front of him. "Shall we test that?" She reached down and took his hand and held it up to her cheek. "It feels like I'm here. It feels like you're here too."

Tears streamed down his face. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"We were too late."

"That wasn't your fault. I kept you in the dark. In my defense, I was trying to protect you."

He squeezed her hand. "You were the one who needed protection."

"Things didn't quite go as planned."

"I ... Emily ..."

"I've never seen you like this, Reid. Not even when Gideon left. Or JJ."

He closed his eyes. She could feel him try to marshal his thoughts. When he opened them, there was a mix of anger and sadness in them. "At least Gideon left me a note."

"I thought I would be back."

"But you're not. Not really. This is a dream or something."

"Who's dream, though? Mine or yours?"

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind." She hugged him close to her. "I miss you. All of you, but especially you. I just want you to know, if it wasn't for Doyle..."

"Don't say it."

"If it wasn't for Doyle, I would have gone to that movie with you."

"Emily..."

"It will be okay. You can get through this. You are the strongest person I know."

"I'm not strong."

"Yes you are. To see all you've seen and not to be mean, that's strength. To face the terrible things you've faced and still be standing. You are strong."

Emily wasn't certain who started the kiss first. Maybe she kissed him or maybe he kissed her, but they were soon kissing each other with a passion neither of them expected. Emily didn't know if this was real or a dream, but at that moment she didn't care.

When their lips parted he said,"This is just a dream. This isn't real."

"It's real enough." Then she kissed him again. As they kissed, they made their way to his couch. He lay on the couch and she lay on top of him. They talked in between kisses.

"I wanted this," he said. "But I ..."

"It's all right. I'm here."

"But this is just a dream, right?"

"I don't what this is. But what if it's only a dream? When you wake up, it will still have happened. And when you feel sad, remember this. This moment."

"You don't have to worry about me forgetting it. Even if I didn't have eidetic memory, I would remember this."

"Good."

Suddenly Emily heard fingers snap and she was back in front of the cafe in Paris. The man in the white linen suit was in front of her.

"I was just expecting a little pep talk from you, maybe some closure. I wasn't expecting that at all. Maybe I'll arrange a repeat for you. But, as I promised, no one knows you were ever there. Not one minute has ticked by during your little meeting with Dr. Reid."

"Who are you?"

"Me? Oh, no one of consequence. Like you, I have so many names. You can call me Archer."

"Archer?"

"It's as good a name as any other. Better than some I've had."

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "Eros. Kama. Cupid. Harvey."

"Harvey?"

"I'm actually rather fond of that one. Anyway, I'll see you soon." And with that he was gone. The last thing to vanish was his smile, just like the Cheshire Cat.