A/N: this is set right after the season 7 finale, literally just a few hours have passed, but it goes in a different direction. For the sake of this story, I am making it that the case was closed on Friday, the wedding is Saturday night, and this is picking up there. Also, in this story Beth is gone: she and Hotch went on a few dates, they didn't hit it off, Jack didn't like her and that was that, they went their separate ways!

Chapter 1:

Re-Evaluation

"Your faith in yourself is all you will ever have. Don't let anyone take it away from you ever." ~ Holly Marie Combs

Saturday, after the party

Closing the door behind her, Emily Prentiss flipped the deadlock, before dumping her keys and badge in the bowl by the door. With a sigh, she took off her coat and hung it up, and slowly headed into her apartment. As she went she looked around examining closely the things which symbolised the life she had built – and the things which should have made her feel at home...but didn't. Nothing did anymore. Not since she came back.

That's not right, she thought. Who is she trying to kid? She hadn't felt at home when she was in hiding either. If she was honest with herself, DC hadn't felt like home since the moment Sean told her Doyle was out. The moment her guard went on high alert. And now that she was back, and Doyle was dead, she couldn't keep going on as if nothing happened.

Regardless of when it had started, this place didn't feel right. Something had to change, she couldn't keep living like this, she knew that, she did, she just didn't know what to do. When she went to that property, it had immediately felt like home, but it no longer did and she didn't understand why; which was why Clyde's job offer sounded so appealing.

Getting out of DC, out of America, a fresh start, a chance to build a new life, a new home for herself; maybe it was time to move on from the BAU. But what about the team? Could she really leave them? Not just for a new team, but a new country, a new continent? And what about Hotch? The two had been ignoring their feelings and keeping each other at arm's length because of the Bureaus policies and the chain of command issue. If she quit, then maybe they could give it a try – but not if she left. She had known since her first day that the time to leave the BAU would come sooner or later – and now, six years later, she thought maybe it had.

Deciding to, at least for the time being, put such heavy thoughts out of her head, she snapped back to reality.

"Hey Sergio," she greeted upon seeing her cat, as she bent to pick him up. "Were you good while I was out?" Sergio's only response was to meow affectionately and rub his head against her cheek. Emily chuckled, scratching him under his chin for a moment before she put him down, heading first into her bedroom, where she put her gun into the safe, and then into her bathroom.

There, she combed her hair which was a little windblown from what was supposed to be a thought clearing…long… walk home from the wedding party. Normally, she wouldn't care what her hair looked like, at least not when she wasn't planning anything more than curling up in bed with the TV on, but tonight she wanted something, anything, to distract her.

Going back into the living room, she picked up the envelope containing the letter she had written earlier that day as an attempt to work out what it was she should do about her life – the letter which she was seriously considering handing to her boss first thing Monday morning. The letter the envelope contained was her two weeks' notice of resignation, which would mean goodbye.

Not a decision for tonight, she decided. She'd think about it some more, and then if by Monday she still felt the same, then she would talk to him and maybe give him the letter. Still though she couldn't bring herself to put the letter down, giving in to her brain's inability to think of something, anything, else, she sat there, seemingly frozen.

An hour later she hadn't moved but continued to sit there, contemplating the letter. She had to do it, she decided. No, she didn't just have to, she needed to. She needed to now, before she had a chance to put it off for another case, and then another, and another, in an endless cycle. Better to slip it in his afterhours return rather than face him Monday, and risk losing her nerve. Going to her room she grabbed her gun and then went to the door, put her coat back on, grabbed her keys and badge and walked out locking up behind her.

Walking into the empty bullpen she cursed mentally, when she saw the light in Hotch's office on. Of all the nights he chooses to work late, he had to come back tonight, on a Saturday, for crying out loud. She had thought it would be safe, she left him at the party (which, FYI, hadn't been about to wind down), and besides, he had had Jack with him.

So what was he doing here, she wondered, undecided what her next course of action would be. Unaware of how long she'd been standing there, weighing her options, she had just decided to leave and try again tomorrow night, and so she turned to go, but at that moment, the light in his office turned off, and he stepped out.

Time to go, she thought, he hasn't seen me yet.

Turning she tried to, inconspicuously, hurry out of the room.

"Prentiss," Hotch called down to her.

Not inconspicuous enough, though, she thought when he saw her. Turning, she acted surprised, "Hotch! I didn't expect you to be here this late, not after the party. Where's Jack?"

"Jack and Henry are having a sleepover with Garcia." He answered, coming down the stairs to meet her. "I realised this would be the only time I have this weekend to do any work, and I had nothing better to do. What are you doing here? Surely you don't have any reports that can't wait until Monday?"

"Um… Not a report. I left a file here on a consult that I wanted to review over the weekend," she answered, before cringing mentally at how dull her reply sounded.

"So you came in at 11 o'clock on a Saturday night to get it?" he said, seeing through her act. "What really brought you here this late?"

Just then a janitor came out of the bathroom with a mop in tow, saving her answering.

Waiting until they were alone again, Hotch pressed further "Emily, when you came back, you promised you'd tell me if you were having a bad day."

"You're right Hotch, I have had somewhat of a bad day, but I'm ok," she tried to reassure him, even though she wasn't so sure of that herself.

"You seem like you've been having a lot of bad days lately. Let me help you Emily, you can talk to me about anything. At the party you said you'd be willing to talk so if you're free now, then maybe we should," he suggested, hoping she would let him in.

About to turn him down, she saw the worry on his face and she thought what the hell. Maybe he could help her.

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