Marie Panault

Hotch called them all together in the war room, even Garcia.

Emily was alive. Emily was coming home.

Emily had their son. Obviously, they hadn't been as careful as they thought. And what kind of name was Lorenzo?

Reid wandered in first, carrying folders and his tablet. "Do we have a case?"

"Wait until everyone's here."

Jack had a brother. He'd love that. He called Henry his brother. "My brother Hank, William's Junior," he joked, playing a pun on Henry and Will's names. Jack was quite the joker.

Morgan was next, coffee in hand. "What's up, Hotch?"

"I'm waiting for everyone."

Morgan shrugged, turned to Reid. "So-how was the date, wingman?"

"Weird," Reid decided.

"Weird how?"

Reid shifted. "I guess I'm not open to the recreational use of handcuffs. What does that even mean?"

"You profile psychopaths and don't know about bondage?"

"I know about bondage in the abstract. Why would I ever need theoretical stuff like that?"

Morgan stared at him. "You need help."

"I do?"

Morgan rolled his eyes.

There was a clover burned on Emily's chest now. And scars from the wooden stake Doyle had stabbed her with. Like his own scars from Foyet.

Garcia came in, alive in insanely bright orange that hurt the eyes. "Hey Baby Girl."

"If you speak to me I will pour coffee on your shiny chocolate-colored head, Derek Morgan."

"What? Why?"

"Call your sisters. And mother."

"I call Mom!"

"But not Sarah and Desiree."

"I'm in the doghouse, aren't I?"

"The one in Spokane, sweetie."

"I promise solemnly to call my sisters. And Mom!" he added as Garcia raised her oversize mug threateningly.

"Good." She plopped down in her seat.

Last were Rossi and Seaver. They could be heard arguing already.

"But what is the point of having a song about sex with an alien?"

Seaver sighed. "It's a cultural thing. And since you were probably at Woodstock and this is modern pop culture-"

"Why you little-"

\ Morgan laughed. "Be nice, Daddy Dave. You hover over her anymore and she'll never get a date."

Seaver sighed and sat between Rossi and Morgan. "Probably not. He scared off the last guy, too."

"What? The guy from counterterrorism I set you up with? The one Penelope personally background checked?"

"The same. Made him cry, too. Very sad, very strange."

"Poor guy."

"More like poor me! How am I supposed to get a date with Papa Bear here?"

Hotch cleared his throat. The team was silenced.

"Last night in Dublin, Ian Doyle was killed in a car bomb."

They all paused, remembering Emily.

"There is a woman and her son, living in Brussels. Marie and Lorenzo Panault. They will be coming back to DC."

"Back, sir?" Garcia asked.

Hotch paused, about to bubble over. "Marie Panault is the new name of an American operative who brought Doyle down. She won't be using it anymore, going back to her old name. Emily Prentiss."

He'd get more reaction if he'd set off a flash grenade.

Morgan got there first. "She has been alive the whole time?"

Rossi was next. "And no one thought we could keep our goddamn mouths shut?"

Ashley stood up. "Listen, it makes sense."

Garcia shook her head and her voice. "No it doesn't! We are her family. F-A-M-I-L-Y, Ash."

"And Ian Doyle was still at large. She had to be dead for her own safety! Would you all rather she was killed by some Irish bastard who had a God complex?"

That shut up the worst of it.

"She's alive?" Reid asked in a tiny voice. "Is that why JJ wouldn't let me see her?"

He was looking at Hotch.

"Yes, Reid."

Reid looked at his hands. "When will she be here?"

"Tonight."

Garcia nibbled her vermillion lip. "She has a son? A husband?"

"No husband."

"Then who's his daddy?'

Hotch sighed. "Me."

Morgan gave him a look. "You were with Emily?"

"Long story."

Morgan snorted. "No kidding."

Garcia was typing. "We are all going to be there to meet her," she announced. "Including you, Ashley. Anyone with plans tonight, too bad."

"She'll be at the airport at seven tonight, gate 23. She's still using the Panault identity so she can get back in the country without a hassle," Hotch announced.

They all nodded. No way was anyone not going to be there.

Author's Note: I just have one thing to say, and it's to Randallsbaby-Dave and Seaver? Do I look like some weird person? Okay, don't answer that ;). But seriously, all I see with them is a father-daughter thing and I apologize from the bottom of my rather smelly socks for scaring anyone with that thought! (walks away grumbling about locating inter-cranial soap to wash images left by Randallsbaby out of brain. Yeurkk)