A/N: That was a really nice welcome back, guys! Thanks a lot for your reviews, alerts and support in general. I hope you're not disappointed that the story takes a leap in time backwards first so that you can find out what led to the events in the prologue before it continues from there. And here we go...

The usual disclaimer applies.

Three is a pair

Three months ago

It starts with anonymous phone calls. No talking, not even audible breathing. Just silence, and after a brief moment, the line goes dead. No one threatens her. No one harasses her. The only thing slightly bothering her is that she receives the calls on her private cellphone. Its number is unlisted. No more than a handful of people know it. Then again, it could be a random act. Someone who gets off on something like that and just dialed any number. It doesn't seem to be worth the effort to dig deeper.

A few weeks pass by without any incidents and she forgets about it.

Until she receives the packages that is. The first is completely empty. The second contains shreds of paper. Only looking closely, she notices that there is a question mark on each shred. A package full of thousands of question marks. The third is full of cut flowers that are ripped to pieces. She smells them even before she opens the package. Daisies. Her favorite flowers as a child. Eerie. She starts to wonder whether this is conducted by someone who knows her. It is highly unlikely that this is a mere coincidence. The packages have her name and business address on it. Of course, there is no sender. Yet, someone pursues a target and the target is her.

This time she ponders on how to handle the situation, but life is hectic and full of other demands that make the packages take a backseat. Again, several weeks pass by and nothing unusual happens.

Then she receives cards, sent to her business address. No sender. The first card reads empty; the second reads is.

Emily Prentiss can't deny any longer that things threaten to spin out of control and instructs her assistant to look for someone who is capable of handling the sensitive situation.

Someone who is discreet and efficient. Someone like Aaron Hotchner.

Three weeks ago

It is standard procedure that Hotch's clients don't come and visit him. Usually a secretary or an assistant calls to make an appointment and he meets them at their office or at their home. He has rented business premises, but he rarely uses them other than for research or paperwork. Actually, he prefers it that way. Meeting his clients in their everyday surroundings gives him the opportunity to get an idea of their personalities. In fact, the first profile, whenever he considers accepting a new job, is always the one of his new client.

When Emily Prentiss' assistant calls, the name sounds vaguely familiar. Regional policy, he thinks, or perhaps commercial size. He agrees to meet her the following week and lets his assistant, Jacob, run the obligatory background check. His current task will be finished in a few days and his other regular ones, although well-paid, take up only a few hours per week. It's the perfect time for a new client.

Hotch's job mainly is a one-man-show. His clients hire him because of his experience as a profiler and his past as unit chief of the BAU. In addition, there are Jacob, when research is needed, and some other freelancers who he trusts enough to involve temporarily if backing in the field is required.

Jacob is an extremely talented IT student and Penelope Garcia's neighbor. He was looking for an easy way to earn money when she told him that her ex-boss was looking for an assistant. These days, Jacob works for Hotch whenever he doesn't take classes. He is not as good as Garcia, but he comes close. Occasionally Hotch still uses Garcia's exceptional research skills. The BAU team knows it and Morgan, as their unit chief, tolerates it as long as it doesn't interfere with Garcia's work.

The background check on Emily Prentiss reveals that she is a wealthy art dealer and gallery owner. The exhibitions she sets up range from paintings to sculptures. She seems to have an unerring instinct for new artists who are a real zinger and has quite a reputation in this field. Born and raised as an ambassador's daughter, she grew up in several countries and lives in Washington nowadays.

Her gallery as well as her office are, as expected, in one of the most expensive areas in town. When Hotch steps out of the elevator, the reception is the, also expected, understatement that oozes money. Sandstone, bright colors and a receptionist with a polite smile that at least is not as fake as usual. Perhaps Emily Prentiss is a better employer than most people with bright-colored sandstone lobbies.

Hotch has to wait the adequate 10-15 minutes while Ms. Prentiss is finishing a conference call, as the receptionist tells him. Then he is led into her office.

Well, office is an understatement. The room is huge. Windows cover the entire exterior wall; aside from an exquisite desk, there is not only a large conference table but also rather comfortable looking arm chairs grouped around a smaller table. Of course, there are also exhibits, paintings and sculptures equally, everywhere. As a whole, the office is impressive – even for someone like Aaron Hotchner. Some people don't have this much space in their apartment. Let alone the lofty style only very few people can afford.

"Mr. Hotchner," Emily Prentiss stands up behind her desk and crosses the room, her hand already put out to bid him welcome. This is a woman who doesn't waste any time on redundancies.

They shake hands. Her smile is downright charming. Something Hotch registers along with the fact that Emily Prentiss is very attractive. He saw some pictures as the result of Jacob's background check, but the vibrating energy that surrounds her makes her even more appealing in person. There is definitely something intriguing about her that goes beyond her looks.

Rich. Successful. Beautiful. Confident. Hotch lets the first impression sink in. Her office, the publicity that comes along with her job, her appearance, the high-end designer clothes and the exceptional jewelry. She has the unobtrusive, yet unmistakably prosperous, appearance of someone for whom wealth is a given. At first sight, she doesn't seem to be the kind of person to show off with it. Nonetheless, it's not difficult to imagine why Emily Prentiss' life could arouse envy. Hotch doesn't know the details as yet, but her assistant told him something about phone calls and unwanted deliveries. Therefore, he has a vague idea.

She offers him a seat at the conference table, implying that this is business and no informal small-talk. After her assistant served coffee and light refreshments, they are alone in the room. The carpet must be a sound-absorbing, custom-built sort because, despite the minimalist furnishing, their voices don't resound while she is telling him about the details. She pauses a few times in between and Hotch senses that the issue makes her uncomfortable beneath her composed demeanor. It doesn't seem to frighten her though.

"My assistant has the packages and cards. I guess you will want to take a closer look," she just ends her narration when, as if on cue, there is a knock at the door. It's her assistant, carefully holding a white envelope between her fingertips.

"There is another one," she whispers.

To be continued