A/N: So happy to see that people were interested by the first chapter. Thanks guys! :) Hope you enjoy the next one!

Emily rushed into the bullpen, thankful that the team didn't appear to have a case and were instead sat at their desks completing paperwork. Morgan was the first to see her, and a smirk appeared across his mouth as he raised his head.

"Half day is it, Prentiss?" he grinned, calling out loudly enough for everyone around to hear and glance towards the increasingly flustered brunette.

"I was at the dentist," she muttered, repeating JJ's lie, and vowing revenge on her still smirking colleague. To her dismay, Hotch appeared on the walkway outside of his office with an especially stern look on his face. He raised his eyebrows and gave her a look that made it clear he wanted to see her. She sighed, placing her bag on her desk before heading towards his office.

"Good luck," JJ whispered, with an understanding and sympathetic smile. She wished she had thought quicker on her feet and provided a better cover story for her friend. The wrath of Hotch was not something anyone should have to face with a hangover.

Though only minutes had passed since Hotch had summoned her, he had closed his office door, forcing Emily to knock and wait for his response. She hoped he'd go easy on her. While she knew it was her own fault, she was feeling terrible and the nausea and throbbing temple, even after the Tylenol took effect, were punishment enough.

"Come in," called Hotch's gruff voice from inside the office and she opened the door, making one more silent wish for him to be in a reasonable mood. "Prentiss," he greeted, not bothering to invite her to take a seat.

"Hotch, I am so sorry," she began, but was prevented from providing an explanation of her tardiness.

"I don't want to hear any excuses. If you have a valid reason for being late then I expect you to let me know at the earliest possible opportunity," he told her sternly. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded, picking at her nails as she suddenly felt like a misbehaving school child.

"And don't get your colleagues to lie on your behalf," he added and Emily hoped that she hadn't also managed to get JJ into trouble.

"It won't happen again. I'm sorry, sir." She stared down at her feet, hoping he didn't have much more to say.

"Just get to work Prentiss," he instructed with a shake of his head before returning to the files that were spread across his desk. She nodded, and quietly made her exit from the room, grateful that her humiliation had at least been brief.

Hotch watched her leave over the top of his paperwork. He knew she'd been out with Garcia and JJ the previous evening and he could forgive his agents the occasional lapse in judgement when it came to letting their hair down; they all worked a very stressful job. But he had no patience for them messing him around or lying to him. Emily was a brilliant agent but he already had one child to deal with at home, and didn't appreciate having to discipline his, supposedly responsible, juniors at work.

/
/

An hour or so later, Emily was sat at her desk, trying to concentrate on the report in front of her, but she was too distracted by how unwell she felt. She reached for the bottle of water that JJ had placed on her desk while she was speaking to Hotch, and took a sip, in the vain hope that it might ease her nausea. The lights in the room seemed too bright and the glare from her computer screen was unbearable. She pressed the cool plastic of the bottle against her closed eyes, praying for some relief.

"Emily, can you come and take a look at this?" Reid called, without looking up from his own paperwork. His voice seemed to aggravate her headache further, but slowly, she stood up and crossed to his desk.

"What is it?" she asked, wondering how she could possibly assist the boy genius. She leaned on the edge of his desk, not trusting her aching body to support its own weight.

"I just wanted your opinion…" he trailed off as he caught sight of her pale face. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked with concern.

"Fine," she lied, attempting a smile through her pursed lips, but Reid remained unconvinced. She closed her eyes against a wave of nausea and the suddenly spinning room. Standing up definitely hadn't been a good idea.

"Emily?" came Reid's worried voice, though she didn't dare open her eyes to see his face. She swayed on her feet and her hand slipped away from its supportive position on the desk. Her eyes reflexively sprung open as Reid jumped up from his seat and steadied her. "Sit down," he instructed, with uncharacteristic authority and directness, as he guided onto his chair. "And put your head between your knees. You're most likely feeling dizzy because of reduced blood flow to the brain and sitting in this position should increase blood flow and prevent you from losing consciousness." There was the Reid she was used to. She followed his directions, aware that their other team-mates had left their desks to see what was going on.

"What happened?" Morgan asked.

"I asked Emily to help me with something but she seems to have suffered a vasovagal episode," Reid explained with a frown.

"I'm just a little dizzy," Emily reassured, keen for her colleagues to return to work before they attracted Hotch's attention. She could feel their eyes watching her closely.

"Have you eaten anything today?" Rossi asked and she shook her head.

"Guys, I'm fine. I just... I don't want Hotch to see." She sat up and gave them a pleading look. Her friends understood and Rossi and Morgan returned to their desks. JJ and Reid remained.

"Why don't we go and hide out in Garcia's lair for a little while?" JJ suggested. She could see why Emily wanted to avoid Hotch's attention, but after her dizzy turn, she knew Emily needed to sit down and relax for a little while. Normally, Emily wouldn't appreciate anyone's attempts to look after her but right now, she was glad of someone providing her with a way out of the bullpen and the stares of its inhabitants.

"Yeah," she agreed, with a nod of her head. "That sounds like a good idea."

/
/

"Here we go. Tea with lots of sugar. And a sandwich. Because you need to eat, my brunette beauty," Garcia said as she bustled back into her office, her usual mannerisms only just covering her concern.

"Thanks," Emily smiled, accepting the mug and the sandwich and sitting them on the desk beside her.

"Eat!" Penelope commanded.

"Give her a second!" JJ laughed, though she too longed for Emily to do something which might counteract the deathly white glow of her face. Emily picked up the mug and took a drink of the hot sweet liquid; she didn't really feel up to any solid food.

"What happened to you last night?" Garcia asked. "JJ and I are fine and we had just as much to drink as you did." Emily shrugged and shook her head – she couldn't explain it either.

"Did you have anything else to drink when you got home?" JJ asked, trying to think of an explanation. Emily shook her head.

"I don't think so; I mean I don't really remember but I can't think why I would have." Her friends frowned at her apparent lapse in memory. JJ folded her arms and sighed.

"Do you think someone could have slipped something into your drink?" she questioned. It was a frightening thought but explained why Emily was so sick when both she and Garcia were fine.

"I don't know," Emily answered honestly, feeling a little anxious at the possibility. "I got home alright, didn't I?" she asked, suddenly. The others read between the lines of her question and confirmed that she had gone home alone.

"The taxi dropped you off first," JJ assured her.

"And you went straight into your apartment," Penelope added. Emily relaxed a little. Even if her drink had been spiked she knew that was all that had happened. All the same, the thought that she may have been drugged still made her feel uneasy. JJ could interpret the uncomfortableness from her expression.

"Do you want me to take you to a doctor?" she offered. "They could run some blood tests and put your mind at ease." Emily shook her head.

"If I was spiked then it might be undetectable by now. And if not I'll just look like a drunk girl trying to make excuses."

"How about telling Hotch then? You really should go home if you're feeling this bad," JJ pointed out. Penelope nodded in agreement but Emily shook her head again.

"I really don't need Hotch judging me anymore today!" Emily exclaimed.

"Em, it's not your fault if you were drugged," Penelope reminded her.

"If," Emily repeated. "If I was drugged. For all we know I was taking extra shots when you guys weren't looking!" She tried to laugh but it sounded forced. The others remained straight faced.

"At least stay here with Pen where she can keep an eye on you?" JJ asked with a pleading expression.

"Sure," Emily agreed, with a sigh and a small smile. Today, being under Garcia's watchful eye was a far better option than being under Hotch's.

/
/

"Headaches, nausea, disorientation, dizziness, amnesia." Somewhere across town, a voice read the list of symptoms from a laptop screen, which provided the only light in a dark room. The owner of the voice sighed. Imagining her suffering wasn't as satisfying as he expected. He liked to think of her sitting in her office wondering why she was so unwell. He liked to picture her colleagues judging her for being so hungover in the middle of the week. But it wasn't enough. He wanted to see it; he needed to see it. He needed to see her pain and discomfort and fear first hand. Slamming the laptop closed, he leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily into the darkness. The game needed to move up a level.