-sigh- Yet another filler. :( It has a purpose, though, so fear not! Be patient, as I have been. Or, tried, rather. Once again, thank you for your kind reviews, and subscribing to alerts. For your sanity, as well as mine, I'll try and post two more chapters tomorrow to get you through the week. I won't be able to write any more until I get back, but I have chapter seven done, as well as the ending (note: chapter 8 is NOT, repeat NOT the ending chapter, I just thought of a brilliant way to end it and had to write it.). Also, again, creative freedom is not a crime, as far as I know, so please just... ignore all the mistakes.

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds? Mine? BAHH! I wish.

Chapter Four

Before returning to her apartment, she had to stop and let Bethany grab her few belongings from the Social Worker's office. It consisted of a small duffle bag and a cardboard box. Then, after explaining the situation to the woman in charge, they reached the DC flat at almost five.

They had stayed at JJ's for over two hours, and it took another hour and a half to get it through that woman's head that an FBI agent would be fostering her for the time being. Bethany hadn't minded; she had sat flipping her phone open and closed for a while, then put ear buds in and listened to music. In all her life, Emily couldn't recall ever meeting a teenager like her. She was so quiet and undemanding, if she hadn't made the occasional noise, she might as well have been invisible.

Once at her home, it was hardly any different. She spoke once to say she was okay with sleeping on the couch, and then went to go take a shower. During the few spare minutes, the federal agent poked through the contents of the box; framed pictures, a medal from track, an old baseball, and a few other random objects.

"There's nothing very interesting in that thing," Bethany said from the doorway to the hall. "Well, nothing interesting to anyone but me."

Prentiss jumped a little at her voice, but crossed her arms and patted the couch beside her. "Try me."

"For starters," she walked over and sat beside her, "that baseball is from the first little league game that I was allowed to pitch in. I struck half the team out with that baby." She picked it up and threw it in the air, catching it as it fell. "That medal is from last summer. There was a track camp and my aunt signed me and Parker up. I won gold in sprinting and hurtles, but I gave my hurtles one to Parker, cuz' I felt sorta bad for her not getting any."

"That's nice."

"I guess so. Anyway," she picked up a picture of a younger her next to a woman with the same facial features but darker hair, both grinning like idiots. "That's my mom, before she... You know."

Emily wrapped a gentle arm around her shoulders. "You look just like her, you know."

"Yeah, everyone says that," was the reply, with a deep breath. She put it back then withdrew another picture of her, but this time with a different woman, a girl around her age, and a marble Belgian shepherd dog. "That's my aunt Bailey and my cousin, Parker, and that's their dog, Menace."

"That's a good picture; they look really happy. Hey, what ever happened to Menace?" Prentiss asked, wanting to know the answer.

"Uh, they put him in a shelter off Pennsylvania Ave. yesterday. I wish they hadn't; he's so sweet. But, knowing the DC shelters, I doubt he'll live to the end of the week. Pit Bulls go first, then Rotties, then big shepherds."

She gave a sympathetic smile. "Are you sure you're the same asshole who kept screaming at us the first time we met you?" she asked with a small laugh.

To her relief, Bethany laughed too. "Yeah, I'm sure. I guess I just needed an attitude adjustment."

There was a pause before the agent suddenly stood. "Get your shoes."

The younger stood too. "What? Why?"

"Just get your shoes and trust me, okay?"

Wordlessly, she obeyed, sliding on her worn basketball shoes and following Prentiss out the front door. After locking the door, they went out to her car. She starred out the window, confusedly as they drove through some rush hour traffic, not even bothering to fidget with the radio. "Hey, uh, Agent Prentiss?"

She glanced over quickly. "Yeah?"

"Thank you. For everything; for believing in me, for taking me in...

Thanks. It means a lot to me."

"It's no problem, Bethany. Trust me. But don't thank me until we catch this bastard, aright?"

She nodded, and went back to starring out the window until they were parked in a nearly-empty parking lot. She followed as they both got out, to the doors of the building with a blue roof. Once she was inside, she finally understood. "You don't have to-" she started, but was cut off.

"Yes, I do. Obviously he means a lot to you, so consider this a gift,"

Emily said, walking up to the desk. "Hi. Agent Emily Prentiss, FBI."

The woman looked startled and flustered. "Have we done something wrong, Agent?"

She smiled and shook her head. "I'm just here to find a dog we think you have. His name is Menace. He's a..." She looked over to Bethany, who finished the sentence.

"Belgian shepherd."

The woman, whose name tag read Nancy, gave a relieved sigh and nodded. "Yes, of course. This way," she said, then headed through a set if glass doors, past kennels of dogs, all the way to the very back room. She stopped outside a particular cage, where the massive dog was laying, leaning against the chain link fencing. Bethany's face light up and she knelt to pet him through it.

"Menace," she breathed. He stood an wagged his tail, vigorously.

"Was he yours?"

"No, my aunt's, but I lived with her for a few months. I had to give him up when I got put into the system," she explained, absently and almost inaudibly in the loud room.

"I'll take him," Prentiss said seriously.

"Okay, we just need you to sign a few things. Your daughter can hold onto him, if you like."

Bethany nodded and grabbed the blue leash hanging from a hook on the cage. The two women left the moment she had the loop around his neck. Menace eagerly followed the girl from there and to the front, where Emily was signing the papers. She rubbed his ears as they waited. When all was said and done, they were free to leave. Bethany let the dog into the backseat of the coupe, and then got in herself. He whined at them until a window was open, which he promptly stuck his head out of it. The car was started and they began to pull out of the parking lot when Emily spoke.

"Just understand that he's your responsibility. You get to feed him and bathe him and walk him, got it?"

"Got it."