Sorry about the longish wait, thank you to everyone on the alerts list and the reviews, hopefully you're reading this. Feel free to let me know where im going wrong (or maybe even right!) I'm not just writing aimlessly I promise, all will make sense in the end.

A/N: Nope, still not mine.

………

Forever

Chapter 4: Morning

………

Morning

Garcia blinked slowly a couple of times, and then opened her eyes. Her temples felt like they were caught in a vice. She lay on the desk for a while, listening to the steady, painful throbbing inside her head. The realization of what had just come to pass hit her with a jolt. She tried to lunge towards the phone but whatever that ghastly man had injected her with was still working its way through her system - she could barely move. She managed to pull her glasses level and with a huge effort craned her neck upwards towards the nearest computer screen. She swore, loudly and profusely at the taunting message flashing back at her.

Morning

She was reminded horribly of the last time the computers had been compromised. She couldn't bear to go through that again. Why hadn't anyone checked on her? Why hadn't anybody seen that man entering her office? What the hell was that doing on her computer?

She inwardly cursed herself for her policy on knocking –"sure, if the buildings on fire"- and began to call for help.

………

"Morning"

Reid jumped, startled, and then smiled when he remembered whose company he was sharing. He rolled over and turned to face his fellow agent, making sure to memorize every happy detail. He squinted slightly in the light, trying not to imagine what he looked like. Her beautiful blonde hair suited the morning sunlight-coming in slants through the half shut blinds-very well. He guessed it would look beautiful under any light. But was this just one rash night, another to dwell on alone for months after? Could this become a regular occurrence? Did she even like him? He looked deep into his favourite blue eyes, searching for an answer. One of the countries top psychological profilers, he thought to himself, and he didn't have a clue.

"How are you feeling?" she said, only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

"Oh… pretty good. Coffee?"

"Cant function without it" she smiled jestingly back at him. They lay together simply for another minute or so. The sun that was backlighting her hair so perfectly had lit tiny bright orange flecks in his eyes that she had never seen before. His hair was the type that suited the 'bed head' look to a tee. She wished he knew how good he looked. She felt her own hair, suddenly conscious of how unkempt she must appear.

"I'm gonna grab a quick shower… that alright Spence?"

"Course Jen, I'll put the kettle on." Almost anything would have been alright with him right now.

"Jen??" She was so used to JJ that she barely recognised her shortened first name.

"I'm just trying it out" he replied, as he eased himself out of their bed, much more awake than she'd ever see him get off the jet, he was well known for being the worst to wake. She laughed a little.

"We'll see."

………

"Was that an act of mercy?"

"Are you questioning me?"

"No! No Sir, I just…"

"They would have been sitting ducks if I had you remove their technician. This is a game, a war, and he will find no pleasure in a one sided one. Has 13 left? And 5, is she suspected?"

"No Sir, 13 got me through Quantico perfectly, he even convinced the other security guards to lock up without checking in on her, he left after seeing to things last night in case inferred. I suppose they will find her in the morning… And no suspicions have been raised in New York."

"I didn't expect there to be. They are professionals."

"Of course Sir… have any more orders been passed down from our Father?"

"You will find out yours from 6, Alixandra, as always."

"Of course Sir"

………

"Can you stretch your fingers out for me? Good, now close them tight into a fist. Good… good."

Not a wise move, Garcia thought to herself, glaring at the portly medic, whom she would have liked very much to have punched for the past 15 minutes.

"Now how are you feeling? Good?"

"Better if I could get to a telephone" Penelope replied curtly. Her head throbbed, not from the attack, but from sheer indignation and fear for what this man was going to do with that information. She needed to hear her team. She needed Morgan. Granted, the security team has been efficient, as soon as she was found paramedics were on the scene, she had been interviewed at length by a number of agents, she told them precisely what files had been taken and already had a sketch artist take extremely long notes. They'd even called Hotch apparently. But she wanted to call Hotch. She wasn't going to sleep until she caught this guy and she needed to get back into her office, now.

"Well, you're mobility's back and the sedative used doesn't have any real after effects… you seem-"

"-Good?" Garcia stared her down, daring her to keep her away from her machines for another second. The nurse shrunk back slightly, refraining from finishing her sentence. A male voice started instead

"Miss Garcia… we can't find this man you talk about anywhere." One of the agents that had interviewed her earlier had just appeared at her shoulder as she turned to return back to her office. She sensed an air of guilt that she had felt many times before, especially just prior to seeing Reid knock a sugar saturated coffee flying near, or sometimes over, her 'babies' (resulting in a ban that had him shouting questions from the threshold of her office for another week, much to her amusement) She felt a painful stab inside her upon this reminiscence, a mixture of fondness and acute worry that made finding this thief even more urgent. She gave the agent the same look she'd just given the paramedic, this time daring him to withhold any kind of information involving her beloved team. "It's not that he isn't on them. But we've lost the tapes. Back-ups, outside, everything." Unbidden and uncharacterised feelings of hopelessness crept into her heart. She nodded grimly.

"I'll be in my office, making some phone calls."

………

"WHAT?"

"Morgan, please sit down"

"Hotch, its Garcia! I swear if they've touched a hair on her head-"

"Derek listen to me, it's under control now, she's safe, there's nothing we can do and this is-not-helping"

"Oh she's safe is she? As safe as she was last night? I'm calling her"

"Morgan, she's being interviewed, they've already lost the tapes, they're trying to catch this guy, do not hinder them" Morgan stopped shouting, though he still looked furious and incredibly intimidating, not helped by the cuts and bruises he was still clearly sporting from jumping out a two storey building the previous morning. He was defeated for now, and threw himself into the nearest chair, not completely masking the involuntary wince… his body really didn't need anymore falls. A normal person with a normal job would be still lying comfortably in a hospital bed. Morgan scoffed at the though. Normal. They couldn't be further from it.

JJ, Reid and Emily had watched the heated discussion miserably. All the happiness from the semi secret couples night had been expelled. Hotch started to speak again.

"Look I'm as upset as you are" Reid looked over to his friend, the hand in his pocket undoubtedly clutching his phone, his eye trained on the one on the desk. He doubted if Hotch actually was as upset as Morgan. This upset went deeper than concern for a close friend… "But it seems that this impostor was infact merciful, compared to what we've seen so far. He held her at gun point but she never gave him any reason to hurt her and… she was sedated by injection once he had the files he need." An outsider may have thought this as a slightly thoughtless account but they understood Hotch. He was one of them.

"What… what files did he take?" Reid tried to veer away from what happened to Garcia, it was far too raw at the present moment.

"Personal files… all our files. He knows where we are staying, where we live, our hours… obviously we have been moved to a safe house in New York, it's nearer to the station actually. And any family have been moved to safe houses back in Georgia." They guessed he was speaking for himself there, as none of them had any one living with them back home. All but Emily were clearly transported back to the last unsub that got hold of their personal details. They had ultimately lost Elle because of it; it was a sore subject, tactfully not brought up in front of Emily. She was accepted these days completely into the team (that was more like a family) no doubt about it, but she still was evidently uneasy on hearing about the woman she had replaced, and probably always would be. With all the security Garcia had installed since it wasn't surprising someone had to physically get it by gunpoint from the system. "I know this has been the worst possible start to the day, but we need to carry on with this case, I think this proves how urg-" Morgan sprung up and snatched the phone up; it had barely a chance to ring.

"Penelope!"

"Ohhhh, muuch better. Started answering the phone huh?" Relief spread across his face, making him look instantly more approachable.

"How're you doing baby girl? You're ok right?"

"I could get used to this kind of attention"

"Oh don't act like I don't give you attention"

"Ah you're right, you're infatuated"

"You better believe it" Although they couldn't hear her replies, Morgan grew conscious of his teams attention, the official looking woman who had just walked up to them cleared her throat for the second time. "Look baby, I've gotta go… I'll, we'll call you as soon as we can. We're gonna find this scumbag"

"I'm on it sweet cheeks, I shall not rest until we have him"

"Neither will I" Morgan finished, with slightly more menace than was usual. But it was just an outlet for his concern. Heaven help the man who had held Penelope Garcia. He turned impatiently to face the blonde woman about to address them all. Reid had noticed her around before, mainly because she was so much in likeness to JJ. But now that he saw her up close he realised how different they were. Yes, she had long straight blonde hair and striking blue eyes. But her eyes were cold, devoid of emotion. She had a sharp, strong face that, although it looked amiable enough at the moment, Reid suspected could be quite formidable. She spoke confidently enough though, in a business like manner, deeply and with authority. Reid decided to stop over analysing.

"Agent Ruth Guy, I'm part of the clean up for this morning." It wasn't an accusation as such, but she did earn an automatic dislike from Morgan at the very least. "This is the address and directions to your new safe house, where you will be all staying, your personal affects have been moved there already. There are numbers to the safe house in Georgia where your wife and child are staying too." She addressed this to Hotch, handing him the file. He frowned at the mention of his family, naturally not long enough for any of them to distinguish anything from it. She looked at him sympathetically before she went and Reid still couldn't help analysing. It didn't suit her face.

………

"Father"

It was a long time before the older man acknowledged his addresser. He had been watching them cope with the news about their fellow agents little ordeal. It was quite entertaining. The well built, black agent seemed to have a particular attachment towards her. Agent Morgan… he might have to look out for him. He was half way through watching the nights tapes again when he was interrupted. He sighed, reluctant to be pulled away from watching the people he was having so much fun playing with. He felt almost alive again. He glided into the light; the only sound echoed eerily off the walls. It was the mechanics of his chair moving him smoothly, steadily, forwards. It was an expensive chair, but then it wasn't like money was the object. His bright orange scrutinizing eyes compelled the man to hurry.

"Is it time yet?"

"I need to watch them longer. I have not decided yet. It is all going to plan so far."

"And the captive?"

"Yes that must be acted upon now. Play the video stream. You know what to do. We'll see how they handle this."

The visitor bowed, understanding he had outstayed his welcome. Such submission looked odd on the muscular, brutal looking man. But, as he straightened up and turned to leave, his unnervingly pale blue eyes showed no contempt or falseness. Nearer reverence.

………

Emily had left the team brainstorming and decided to talk to Detective Parker. After all, none of them had gotten a chance to even hold a real conversation with him, since the eventful arrival yesterday morning. She entered his office slowly, it was unnaturally dark for the late sunny morning outside, his blinds were almost shut, and she immediately noticed the laptop on his desk, open and streaming the video of his kidnapped comrade. She remembered what the team had gone through when this was Reid, when they were in Detective Parkers' position, even as a new member back then, and felt real empathy for him. He looked up and managed a short smile, and got up to shake her hand.

"Agent Prentiss, isn't it?"

"Oh... Emily's fine" His effort to be good natured at a time like this made her feel obliged to offer some kind of affability to him. He smiled at this small token.

"I'm Jonathon… Johns better."

"He's…" Emily has looked sideways to the laptop and was at a loss to what to say. "He's still alive." She finished, feeling more than inadequate. John didn't seem to hold it against her.

"Be thankful for small mercies, hey?" He dropped the attempt at optimism and began to speak in a much lower tone. "I'd do anything… for it to be me… seeing my colleague, my best friend, knowing he's at deaths door and not being able to do anything… well. I'd rather it be me." He said it with such sincerity that Emily simply stared at him for a few seconds. He was a very handsome man.

"That's incredibly brave… and I'm sure your friend would say the same, if that were true" He looked down at his clasped hands. With a stab of disappointment Emily noticed a thick gold wedding band on his ring finger. He noticed her staring and went out on a limb.

"Nah, not me. I'm a widower." Emily turned violet.

"Oh God I am so sorry."

"Don't be, it was years ago, it was peaceful. I wear it out of habit these days." The phone cut rudely into the oddly personal conversation. Emily was incredibly glad to be saved from a reply, although this began to fade once he'd slammed the phone down, the colour drained from his face. They both looked at the laptop, both caught by a movement in the corner of their eyes. A tall hooded man had entered the picture. He was holding a gun.

"What did the phone call s-?

"-Number 2, Madison Avenue. 26th Street. 2 blocks away." Without another word he had leapt up, grabbed his gun and badge, and was out. Emily close behind. It was a race.

………