The four of them lingered at Hilda's for several hours, drinking coffee (no one thought wine was a great idea) and eating Hilda's delicious hamentaschen. They kept the conversation light. Emily and Germany told funny stories from their college days, Garcia kept them all in stitches with tales of Kevin's antics and the mischief gotten up to by their LARPing club. Emily was starting to feel relaxed. She leaned back against Spencer's side, his arm across the back of the booth behind her head, and rested her hand on his knee as they talked, reassuring herself that while Germany's seemingly-perfect marriage may have fallen apart, hers was intact.

It wasn't until Germany was almost literally nodding off at the table that she'd agree to leave. "I'm okay!" she insisted.

"Germany, you didn't get much sleep. You were up half the night driving and you were out of bed before nine!"

"Yeah – sleep does sound kinda good."

The piled back into Emily's car and headed back to the house -- but when they got there, Emily saw with a sinking feeling that sleep probably wasn't forthcoming for any of them.

Simon was sitting on the front porch, waiting for them.

"You want me to keep driving?" Emily said. "I can take you to Garcia's house and we'll deal with Simon."

"No," Germany said, sounding very sure of herself. "No, I ought to face him. Sooner rather than later. And I ought to do it alone."

Emily pulled into the driveway. "You sure?" she said.

Germany nodded, staring out the window at her husband, who wasn't looking much like his usual dapper self. In fact, he looked like hell. "I'm positive." She looked back at them. "Give us a little while. Then we'll see."

"We'll be nearby," Reid said. "And we have guns."

That got a smile out of Germany. "Thanks. That's good to know." She got out of the car and walked across the front lawn to meet him.

"So...we just stay in the car?" Garcia said.

"No, we'll go in the back door," Emily said. They piled out and tried to unobtrusively walk up the driveway to the kitchen door.

"I ought to go home anyway," Garcia said. "Kevin's probably wondering what happened to me. Let me grab my stuff." She headed for the library.

Emily dropped her keys on the island and ran a hand through her hair. "He got here fast," she muttered.

"Too fast to have driven."

"He does have access to a few private planes."

"If he went to that much trouble he must really want to talk to her."

"I wonder if she'd take him back."

"He cheated on her."

Emily shrugged. "Germany isn't overly invested in the concept of monogamy. She could forgive him sleeping with someone else. It's the secrecy and the abandonment she'll have trouble with. I honestly don't know what to think."

"I can't imagine sleeping with someone else."

She smiled. "That's nice of you to say, even if it's a lie."

"It's not a lie."

"Spencer, just because we're married doesn't mean we'll never be attracted to someone else, or never want to sleep with anyone else. It means we refrain from sleeping with someone else." She leaned against the edge of the counter and pulled him over to her. "I want us to be able to talk about it if that happens."

"You mean if one of us gets a crush on someone?"

"Yes. I'm not going to go off on a tear if you look at another woman. I don't own your eyes or your brain."

He sighed. "Your ability to be rational in the midst of emotion never ceases to amaze me. I can appreciate the sense and reason of what you're saying, but the thought of you wanting to sleep with some other man makes me kind of crazy."

"I'm not saying I do. But I could. All I can promise you is that I won't."

"Glad to hear it." He leaned forward and kissed her. It was just getting interesting when they were interrupted by a wolf whistle. They turned to see Garcia in the doorway, her laptop stowed in her bag.

"That's hot. Necking by the cold coffee. Whoa, mama."

"Thanks for coming over, PG," Emily said, going right by the snark that was on offer.

"Oh, my pleasure. Anytime I can help the intrepid duo of Mr. Prentiss and Mrs. Genius unravel another mystery, it's a good day." She grinned and kissed both of their cheeks, then headed for the back door. "But don't call me tonight. I've got some catching up to do with my own sweetie." She waggled her fingers at them and was gone.

Spencer faced her again, his eyes still half-distracted with what they'd been doing. Emily reached behind her and hopped up on the kitchen island, then pulled him up close between her knees. He put his hands on either side of her hips and leaned in, having to look up slightly at her now with her sitting on the countertop. "Yes?" he murmured, his voice low and sexy.

"Can we just make out for a little while longer?" she whispered.

In lieu of an answer, he just smiled and recaptured her lips, wrapping his arms around her back. Emily sighed into his mouth and wound her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his hips, pulling him as close as she could, craving some contact with her guy. She always felt so secure when he held her like this, his long-fingered hands splayed over her back like he was trying to touch all of her at once. His mouth was hot and tasted of coffee; his full lips felt amazing against her own. His restless hands were never still, they moved and stroked and massaged her, sliding up her back to squeeze her shoulders then back down to wrap tight about her waist, sometimes wandering up to tangle in her hair. Emily had been with her share of men, but no one had ever made her feel as desired as he did. She just hoped she was doing the same for him.

She didn't know how long they stayed there, necking by the cold coffee, as Garcia had said, but it felt really, really good. Emily hoped she and Spencer could maintain their sexual connection as time passed. They'd only been married a little over a year, so the bloom was not yet off the rose, but time would go by and she knew they'd have to work to maintain it, especially if they became parents, as she still hoped they would. She'd always been a firm believer that a good sex life couldn't make a relationship, but a bad one could break it, and she would not see them broken. "Let's always make time for this," she said, as he kissed his way across her jaw and down her neck.

"Time for what?"

"You know. To keep lusting after each other."

She felt his lips arch in a smile. "I don't think it'll be a problem to make time for this." He straightened up and met her eyes. "The problem is to make time for everything else."

Emily laughed, reassured. She was moving in to kiss him again when they both heard the front door open. "Emily? Spencer?" Germany called.

She hopped off the island and they went into the foyer. "What's going on?" she asked. Germany's eyes were red and wet, but she seemed calm. Simon was lurking behind her, looking like he'd like nothing better than to disappear into a hole in the wall.

Germany turned toward him, her hands on her hips. "I think you should tell Emily and Spencer everything, Simon. Maybe they can help. Anyway, they deserve to know what's really going on, don't you think?"

Simon sighed. "All right."

"Let's go in the den," Emily said. She sat on the ottoman, Spencer taking a seat on the edge of the chaise lounge. Germany and Simon sat side by side on the couch.

Simon's body language was penitent. He sat on the edge of the cushion, leaning forward with his hands clasped between his knees. "I only slept with her once," he said. "I don't know what I was thinking. I was at her house helping her hang some pictures. We got to talking. About children. She'd always wanted to have a baby, but hadn't ever found anyone. And I..." He fetched a deep sigh. "For years I'd been feeling like I wanted a child but I never said anything. I know how Germany feels about it and she is so much more important to me, so I just made my peace with it. It was like Marcie understood something about me that night, and somehow...yeah. I saw her again that week and told her it could never happen again. She seemed just as upset by it as I was. I thought that was that. But a month ago, she told me she was pregnant." He stopped, shaking his head. "And then, things got ugly. She got ugly. She said I had to leave my wife and raise the baby with her. I told her that was never going to happen. I'd help her, I'd do right by her, but I wouldn't leave my wife."

"I wish you'd just told me," Germany said, her voice a hoarse whisper.

"I didn't know how," he said, the words barely audible. "I knew I'd have to eventually. I could never have kept from you that I had a child with another woman. But then...she miscarried. I was sad, but in a way I was relieved. I thought this could all go away. But Marcie really came unglued then. She started calling me all the time, she'd show up places and confront me, it was becoming an untenable situation. Then she started making threats against you," he said, looking at Germany. "I was paralyzed. I didn't know what to do. She said if I didn't leave you, she'd hurt you."

"Did her threats seem legitimate?" Emily asked.

"I don't know. I couldn't afford to take the risk, though, could I? I buttoned up and buckled down and tried to deal with it on my own. I tried to take out a restraining order, but they wouldn't grant me one without an overt act of aggression."

"If you seriously thought I was in danger you should really have told me what was going on," Germany said.

"I know. I was going to when you got back from Denver. But the night before you got back, I came home from work and she was in the house."

"How'd she get in?" Reid asked.

"I have no idea. We have an alarm system. Well, that scared the shit out of me, as you can imagine, but I tried to stay calm. I thought, I'll leave with her, act like I'm going to do what she wants, buy some time. When you got home and I came in and told you? She was waiting outside, listening, to make sure I really did it. I snuck away later to come back and try and explain, but you were gone. I went back to where I'd left Marcie and she was gone. Then I really panicked. I was afraid she'd done something to you."

"Where is she now?" Emily asked.

"I have no idea."

"You don't think she'd come here, do you?" Germany asked.

"Simon, if this woman is as far gone as you've described, there's every reason to believe she'd have the ability to follow you here."

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Reid and Emily glanced at each other. "I'll get it," he said, and got up. Emily saw him surreptitiously unsnap his holster as he went. She, Simon and Germany exchanged looks, then they all got up and went to the doorway, leaning out to hear what was going on.

"Jesus, you think it's her?" Germany said. "How could she have found us?"

"You'd be surprised," Simon said, grimly.

Emily heard Spencer open the door. "Yes?" he said, neutrally.

"Is he here?" came a quavering, woman's voice. She saw Simon tighten up.

"Christ. It's her," he said.

"Who are you?" Spencer was asking.

"I'm looking for Simon Chester. He's here, I know he is."

"Ma'am, if someone by that name were here, that's none of your business. Please leave."

"Who the hell are you?" she said, her voice suddenly going snarly.

"I'm Special Agent Spencer Reid and this is my house."

"You're trying to keep me from him!"

"I can't let this go on," Simon said, and walked out of the den.

"Simon!" Emily hissed. "Germany, no!" she said, as Germany followed right after him. "Dammit," she grumbled, going after them.

The second Marcie saw Simon, she pushed past Spencer into the house. "Simon!" she cried, drawing up short when she saw Germany. "What's she doing here? You said you were leaving her!"

Emily met Spencer's eyes. She has a gun, he mouthed, glancing down at Marcie's bag. Emily unsnapped her own holster and started slowly working her way around to the woman's other side.

Germany had a hold of Simon's arm. "Marcie, you're not thinking straight," he said. "I won't leave Germany. I love her. I don't love you."

Marcie shook her head. "You told me you loved me, and you wanted to only be with me!"

"I never said that," he said. "I really never did," he said to Germany.

"Worry about me later," she said out of the side of her mouth. "Deal with the crazy woman now."

"Right. Marcie, it's just because you're off your medications."

"I couldn't stay on them, because of the baby!"

"I know that. But the baby's gone, remember?"

"No!" she cried, and suddenly the gun was in her hand. Spencer must have been waiting for it, because his gun was up and drawn in an instant. Emily drew her Glock and stepped in front of Simon and Germany.

"Put the gun down, Marcie," she said.

She raised it toward Germany but couldn't get a shot at her because Emily was in the way. Spencer was inching his way closer to Marcie's side while her attention was diverted. His eyes kept flicking over to her. Emily knew that he was thinking of how to disarm her, but he was also worried that Emily might get shot. "I can't think," Marcie sobbed, the gun shaking in her hand.

"Put the gun down and we'll get you some help," Emily said, low and soothing. "You don't want to hurt anybody."

"He hurt me!"

"I know he did. But this isn't the answer." The gun was wobbling more and more. Marcie sobbed something incoherent that Emily couldn't understand. "Put the gun down."

She was crumpling. Spencer had gotten to within a few feet of her. He darted in, wrapped one arm around her chest from behind, and plucked the gun from her hand. Emily stepped in and took it from him while he got her down on the ground, a sobbing wreck. She struggled weakly, but he had all the leverage and she couldn't free herself. Emily turned around to see Simon and Germany in a tight embrace. He was crying and clinging to her. Emily holstered her gun and popped the magazine out of Marcie's. She looked down to where Spencer still had Marcie on the ground in something of a half-assed half-nelson. Good thing she wasn't resisting very hard. "Um...cuffs, please?" he said.

The police came for Marcie and she was spirited away, hopefully to a psych ward. "I don't think that restraining order will be a problem now," Emily said to Simon.

She left Germany and Simon huddled together in the living room and went out to the front steps, where Spencer was watching the police car pull away, having given the officer a statement. Being FBI agents expedited the whole process, which was a nice perk of the job. "Nice moves, Agent Reid," she murmured.

"Pure improvisation."

"I'm pretty hot for you right now."

He smirked. "Taking down a mentally unstable woman who's in sobbing hysterics isn't exactly a task requiring Morganesque levels of tackling ability."

"I guess I'm just a girly girl after all, who likes to see her man being all manly."

"Yeah, cause all you did was stand in front of the bullets, Lola." He wrapped one arm around her shoulders. "Not how I planned to spend Sunday afternoon."

"Just another boring weekend Chez Reid. Three a.m. visitors and computer hacking and profiling and bipolar erotomanics."

He chuckled. "You think Simon and Germany will be okay?"

"I think so. The batshit crazy of the situation mitigates his misbehavior somewhat. Germany's not one to hold a grudge. I think the part she'll have the most trouble with is that he never told her that he'd changed his mind about having children."

"You think she wants them, too?"

"No. But she'd want to know if he did."

He rubbed her arm. "It's freezing, let's go inside."

Simon and Germany were sitting close together on the couch, heads together, deep in conversation. They looked up when their hosts entered. "Everything okay?" Germany said.

Emily nodded. "You won't have to shoot her in the bathroom like Glenn Close. They'll get her back on her meds. She'll be charged. Pointing a gun at someone and threatening to shoot them isn't something you can just shrug off. I'm guessing that once her mental state stabilizes, you won't have any more trouble with her."

"A reassessment of your security system wouldn't be the worst idea," Spencer said.

"I've already made that call," Simon said.

"You guys were amazing," Germany said, looking up at them with awe. "I mean, seriously."

"Second," Simon said. "How did you know she had a gun?" he asked Spencer.

"By the way she was holding her bag, and her body language."

"Huh." Simon sounded impressed.

"I've never seen you be all FBI Agent Prentiss before, Truff. It was killer."

"Oh, you think that was impressive? Last week she body-checked a fleeing suspect into a brick wall. It was a thing of beauty," Spencer said. She elbowed him in the ribs.

"And you, Dr. Reid," Germany said, grinning at him. "You're damn hot with a gun in your hand, looking all fierce. Pretty fast with that thing, too."

"I'm a lousy shot, though."

"Oh ho, don't you believe him," Emily said. "He claims to be lousy but always manages to make perfect shots when it matters. I think he's hustling us."

Their laughter relieved the lingering tension. "Well, we ought to get out of your hair," Germany said. "I think we've been enough trouble to our friends for one weekend, don't you, Simon?"

"More than enough. I'm so sorry to have brought all this into your house, Emily."

"We're just glad we could help." She looked from one to the other. "Are you guys...okay?"

Germany sighed. "We will be. We have some long talks ahead of us. But we had a woman pointing a gun at us today. We'll make it through."

Once Germany had gathered her things and she and Simon left with hugs and promises to call soon, Emily felt nothing more than the siren call of her bathtub. "I am going to take a long soak," she said, stretching her arms over her head. Spencer was on his laptop at the kitchen island; she poured a glass of wine to take upstairs with her.

He glanced up at her. "Want some company?"

She sighed. "Not tonight. I'll want some when I get out, though."

"Okay."

She kissed his temple as she passed by on her way to the stairs, her mind already anticipating the hot, bubbly water and the massage of the whirlpool jets. Bless him for this renovation, she thought as she started the tub filling.

After an hour's soak, Emily quickly showered off and put on her robe. She padded downstairs and found her husband in the den, stretched out on the chaise lounge. He had Keith Olbermann on the TV but the sound was turned way down. A book was open on his lap but he wasn't reading it. She lingered in the doorway, looking down at the back of his head; she could tell by the way it was canted that he was deep in thought. She was pretty sure she could guess the topic. It was the same one that had sent her into the tub by herself.

She came around the side of the chaise and put her hand on his shoulder. He jerked a little and looked up at her. "Oh, hi."

"What are you doing?"

"Just thinking." He held her gaze for a minute, then beckoned her in with a little jerk of his chin, holding out one arm. Emily sat on the chaise and slipped in beside him, stretching out along his side, slipping her leg between his and tucking her head into the crook of his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her and he sighed as they settled in.

They didn't speak for a long time. His fingers combed idly through her damp hair. She slipped her hand under the hem of his shirt and rested it on the warm skin of his stomach.

"They would be pretty amazing, wouldn't they?" he finally said, his voice subdued.

"Our kids?"

"Yeah."

"Damn right, they would."

He sighed. "You know what it is that scares me."

"I know what you think it is."

"It's the schizophrenia. My genes."

"Your genes are fantastic. And that's not what really scares you. You're afraid of not being good enough."

"Of course I am."

"So am I. So is everyone who even thinks about this. The schizophrenia...it's an excuse."

"It's a legitimate concern."

"Then let's deal with it. Let's find a geneticist who can assess our real risk. That's not the only risk to worry about, you know. My age could end up being a greater risk than your family history."

"A geneticist. That's not a bad idea."

"You want do to that?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. We'll do that." She squeezed him. "I'm just glad we're talking about it."

"They didn't. Germany and Simon. And look what happened."

"I know. That's all I could think about while I was in the bath. If they'd only talked about it, he might never have slept with that woman in the first place. We have to be able to talk. Always. No matter what it's about, no matter how awful it is."

"We will. I promise."

Emily yawned. "Oh, man. What happened to our weekend?"

"I know. Tell Germany next time she has a crisis that she should go to Kate's house."

She chuckled. "I'll pass that along." She sat up. He smiled up at her, his hair mussed. Emily ran a hand down his face. "I'm going to bed. Are you coming?"

"Absolutely."

She rose and pulled him up, clicking off the TV with the remote. They headed for the stairs and their bedroom, ready to put the day behind them so they could face another in the morning.

CASE CLOSED

In the works from the pen (keyboard) of MadLori:

Somewhere, It Hides a Well -- Mid-length multi-chapter story taking place several months after the events of "How to Fight Loneliness." Morgan must deal with accusations of misconduct when an UNSUB the team put away during his stint as unit chief recants his confession; meanwhile, Reid and Prentiss deal with potentially crushing news that could change their lives and their marriage forever.

Genius at Work -- Long multi-chapter story taking place during the events of "How to Fight Loneliness." The flashbacks in that story to the evolution of Reid and Prentiss's romance were all from Emily's point of view. "Genius at Work" retells and expands on those events, from Reid's perspective.

Casefiles:

Mr. Prentiss & Mrs. Genius and the Mysterious Manuscript -- In which our intrepid profilers travel to Yale for Spencer's anniversary present. What will he find when he finally examines the notorious Voynich Manuscript?

Mr. Prentiss & Mrs. Genius and the Legendary Letter -- Our dynamic duo take on separate cases as Mr. Prentiss travels to London to consult on a newly-discovered Ripper letter, while Mrs. Genius consults on a custodial interrogation in Chicago. During their daily webcam chats, they talk about everything -- except the fact that they're both dealing with romantic interest from persistent local detectives.

Mr. Prentiss & Mrs. Genius and the Reluctant Relative -- Sometimes our savvy twosome don't happen upon trouble -- sometimes it walks right into their backyard and says howdy, in the form of a family member neither of them particularly wanted to see again.