Author's Note

Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing and following and favoriting. It's scary how happy you all make me! But you do, make me very happy. I sincerely hope you're all still enjoying how the story is developing. There are interesting things to come.

Chapter 4

The team was on the jet, on their way to Susanville, a small company town in northern California. The company, however, happened to be the High Desert State Prison, a maximum security prison. The town built up around the prison. That was neither here nor there for this case. Except that it might change the way Susanville's residents responded to the presence of the BAU among them. Typically, small towns didn't react well to the FBI. Hopefully, the presence of the prison would mean that they wouldn't get a hostile reception when they de-planed. Their unsub was terrorizing the residents with break-in rapes. There were five all together, with the last two escalating to murder. The locals had finally asked for help. Despite the prison, the police force for Susanville was pretty small: ten people total.

The plane would land in about fifteen minutes and the team had just finished going over the case as they knew it. Hotch was handing out assignments. "JJ, you and I will go to the station. Get set up, lay of the land, etc. Rossi and Reid, go to the ME. Morgan and Prentiss, the last victim's house. Okay, we should plan to discuss thoughts on a preliminary profile in two hours." Hotch closed his folder.

"Ah, Hotch," Morgan called.

"Yeah," Hotch looked up.

"No Prentiss." Morgan smiled. Hotch actually looked a little confused. That was funny.

"Right," Hotch said. "Take Reid," he decided. "Good?" Hotch asked by looking at Morgan, then Reid and Rossi. Everyone nodded.

"Since we're on the subject," Reid piped up, "where is Emily?"

Hotch looked at Reid. He didn't want to violate Emily's confidences by sharing the current turmoil of her life with the team. Okay, she never really said anything was 'in confidence' but, he the implication was clear. Hotch certainly knew she was close with the team, but. This wasn't information he was comfortable sharing without her express permission. "She's taking some personal time."

"You said that already, but," Reid came back, "Morgan and I were in the bullpen yesterday."

"We heard the phone call Hotch," Morgan added.

"What phone call?" JJ asked, before Hotch could respond.

Reid and Morgan quickly gave JJ and Rossi the run-down on Prentiss's phone call from yesterday. "What was that about, do you think? Does anybody know?" Rossi asked. "Has anyone talked to her?"

"I called," Morgan started, "but she didn't answer. She'd tell us if something was seriously wrong, right?"

"Yeah," JJ assured him, then thought again. "Well? She might not. You know how she is."

Rossi looked at Hotch. "Do you know what's going on with Prentiss?"

"What do you mean?" Hotch hedged.

"Well," Rossi gave him a look, "Presumably, when she called to take the time off, she gave you a reason?" he prodded.

Hotch was stuck. He opened his mouth to say they didn't really get into it, but the words stopped in his throat. Rossi was still giving him that look, the one that seemed to be saying 'you can't possibly be as dumb as you look right now.' He'd chart a middle course. "She did. I know what's going on. She's fine, she'll be fine."

JJ zeroed in on his poor choice of words, "Which is it? She's fine, or she'll be fine?"

"Both," Hotch was exasperated, "She's not hurt. She'll be back next week." "Probably," he tacked on at the last minute. The four faces looking back at him did not seem satisfied. "There was a death in the family." He hoped she wouldn't be too upset with his reveal.

"And?" Reid asked.

"And nothing. It's none of our business." Hotch came back. As far as he was concerned, the subject was dropped. No one else, apparently, was on board with that plan. Rossi was giving him that look again.

"But Hotch?" Reid pressed, "She was practically yelling. She was talking about lawyers; she used her family."

"She mentioned pedophiles, Hotch," Morgan insisted, "that's not a normal funeral reaction."

"Morgan, she's fine. She'll be back next week," Hotch replied with as much authority as he could muster without sounding like a total jackass.

"Hotch, come on," JJ pleaded.

Hotch stood up, this was making him uncomfortable. "Look everyone. There was a death in the family. Prentiss is fine. She'll be back next week. When she returns, she can fill you in." He crossed the plane to his open briefcase and dropped his file in. "The subject is closed," he dropped the lid on his briefcase for emphasis. Everyone stared, incredulous, for a moment before turning away from him. Except Rossi. David Rossi was still staring at him like he was a dumbass. Hotch had known Rossi for a long time; he was intimately familiar with that look. Hotch attempted to stare him down. That, of course, doesn't work on Rossi. Hotch sighed and sat down again, keeping his eyes on his briefcase.

Rossi smirked. Something was happening there. Interesting, Rossi thought. Very, very, interesting.

Emily made productive use of her morning. She'd made all of her phone calls, except one. She'd called her doorman and Good Will. The doorman would handle her box re-organization; he'd take care of throwing away pile number 1 and let Good Will in when they come for pile number 2. She would need him to do that because she also called the social workers and her lawyer. Emily started the process of adopting Caroline. She made arrangements to fly out to Portland to meet with Caroline and her social worker in person. She had even done some research into schools for the little girl; Emily made appointments to tour four different schools next week. She just finished securing a plane reservation for later in the afternoon. There was only one thing left to do. Emily hadn't yet called her mother.

She picked up her cell phone. And put it down again. She was still a little angry with the Ambassador. Why her mother couldn't see her as a fully functioning adult was beyond her. For crying out loud, the government licensed her to carry a gun, the least her mother could do was relay family information in a timely fashion. Okay, that was the very least of why she was angry. Emily was upset that her mother didn't think she could take care of a child. The Ambassador was one to talk, Emily thought petulantly. (She refused to think of the whiny tone of her thoughts right now as a reason her mother might be right.) Emily's childhood wasn't one she would wish on another person. It hadn't been truly terrible, not all of it anyways. It was mostly just lonely; she was always an afterthought to her mother and less than that to her father. Emily always swore she would be different with her own children. You know what, she thought, that was starting right now. She would be the bigger person here. She picked up the phone and dialed her mother's personal line.

"Ambassador Prentiss's line." Stuart. Her mother's personal assistant.

"Hi Stuart, it's Emily. Is she free?" Emily hoped she didn't sound as tense as she felt.

"I'm sorry dear, she's with someone." Of course she is, Emily thought. This was probably better.

"Can I leave word Emily?" Stuart asked, formally. The Ambassador always liked her formal protocol.

"Yes Stuart, thank you." Emily replied. Protocol it is. "Please tell my mother that I'm taking Caroline. And please also thank her for informing me personally. That was such a nice touch."

Stuart chuckled uncomfortably, "I don't think I will tell her that dear. But I will inform her about the child. She'll be pleased."

"Oh yeah," Emily grumbled, "She'll be pleased as punch."

"Be kind, Emily." Stuart has been with the family for almost thirty years. He knew how things were. "Good-bye dear."

Emily hung up the phone. Now that that's done, there was nothing left to do but pack a bag and head to the airport. Whoa. Emily felt a little light-headed. That really was all that was left to do. She'd get on a plane and then in a few short hours, she'd be a mother. Holy crap. She needed to sit down. Deep breaths. Emily was a champion compartmentalizer, but she couldn't compartmentalize what she was feeling now. She has wanted a child for so long. All of a sudden the dream was this close and she could taste it. She wanted it so badly. Not like this, under these circumstances, but still. She was going to be somebody's mother. It didn't feel real. Probably because it wasn't, she told herself. Don't get your hopes up too high Emily, she thought, something will come along and stop this. You don't get the things you want, remember? Negative thoughts were not productive. Packing was. With that, Emily went upstairs and started pulling clothes out of her closet and drawers. She didn't know how much she'd need. She wasn't entirely sure how long she'd be in Portland before she returned (hopefully with Caroline). She needed a little reassurance right now. She pulled out the big suitcase, just in case.

Hotch was standing in the room the Susanville Police had given the team. He was pretty sure it doubled as a holding cell. It had no windows, peeling gray paint, had an unfortunate smell, and was thoroughly depressing. But it was a space with a table and a white board (brought in especially for them). That was really all they needed. Hotch glanced at his phone. They'd only been in this town for about four hours and already he was getting antsy to finish up and leave. Their skills weren't really needed here. The local police had a pretty good read on their suspect, they just didn't have the manpower and the resources they really needed to actually get him. Hotch hated when his team was used purely for manpower. Hated. It. But. That happened sometimes. The BAU was a resource for all levels of law enforcement. He'd deal with it. But the sooner this case ended, the better. He thought about Emily, wondered what she was doing right now. He sighed.

Rossi looked up from his conversation with JJ. They were discussing the significance of the commonalities among the victims. Morgan and Reid were out with the locals, knocking on doors and generally doing the legwork.

"What?" Rossi asked.

Hotch looked up and around, "what?"

"You sighed," Rossi said.

"I…" Hotch started ready to defend himself, then decided not to bother. Rossi was mastering the profiling game long before Hotch was thinking about it. Instead, he gestured around him, "Manpower and legwork."

"I know. You hate that. You'll survive," Rossi said with a smirk. "Besides. That's not why you're grumpy today."

JJ smiled to herself. She had her own suspicions. "I'm gonna go talk with Chief Rollins about a media strategy if this case goes on for more than a day or two." With that, she left the old friends alone to talk.

Hotch gave Rossi a look. The look that said 'I'm not in the mood for this so quit before you start.' The look that Rossi ignored. "What is it?" Rossi insisted. "Is it Prentiss not being here?"

Before Hotch could answer him, his phone beeped. He checked it. And smiled. A text from Emily.

"Beep of the devil?" Rossi asked, with a smile.

"What?" Hotch was engrossed in his phone; his smile was involuntary.

"Is that Prentiss?" Rossi asked. "Or should I say, Emily?" he added, in a slight sing-song voice. David Rossi was a man who loved gossip.

Hotch scowled at him, but it was too late. He'd missed his mark. Rossi winked at him and exited the room.

Hotch read the text again. Just checking in. About to get on a plane. Forgot how much a pain flying commercial is. She was checking in. Hotch liked that. He really liked that.

Before he knew it, he was texting her back: You should've flown with the team. We're in northern California, Susanville. We could have made a quick stop in Oregon.

Emily's response made him smile all over again. She was making fun of him, he thought. That'd be an abuse of government resources, Sir. Emily had a knack for making titles of respectability sound other than respectable.

What's the plan? He texted back.

Emily's response was, again, immediate. Meeting with the social worker and the lawyer this evening. I'll see Caroline tomorrow morning.

Hotch could hear Morgan and Reid in the outer room; everyone was coming back. He sent one more text. Let me know how it goes? Safe flight.

He was stilling smiling as the team filed back into the room to work. His phone beeped one more time. I will ;) It took him a moment to understand the extra punctuation was an emoticon. Once he did, he decided he liked this side of her.

TBC