A/N: Huge thanks to everyone who read the last chapter and put it on alert, especially those who took time to review. As always, major thanks to AliceBB who takes the time to deal with all my grammar, continuity and characterization mistakes. That being said, all mistakes are ultimately mine. Also, these characters are still not mine, though I really wish they were.

Condensation clung to the mirrored surfaces as the steam milled around the confined space of the hotel bathroom. Emily roughly wiped away some of the collected moisture, and stared at herself in the reflective surface. She grimaced at how pronounced the purple bags under her eyes were. At least her physical appearance and emotional state were in sync because she felt as exhausted as she looked.

To say that she hadn't slept well would be an understatement. She hadn't slept at all, and it had nothing to do with being in a new place. The team spent enough time in hotel rooms in so many places that insomnia due to location didn't play a factor anymore. Emily tightened the towel around her before exiting the humid bathroom, making sure to turn the alarm off as she passed the nightstand. In her opinion, a 6:00 alarm was offensive, case or not.

Thirty minutes later, Emily was clipping her gun holster onto her belt when a knock sounded out, the sharp staccato harsh in the morning hours. She grabbed her credentials and headed out, expecting to see JJ standing in the hallway. She was surprised to find Morgan leaning casually against the wall opposite her door instead.

"Good morning sunshine."

Emily rolled her eyes, grunting in response. She turned and started making her way down the hall, not waiting for Morgan to catch up. Morgan waited until the elevator doors closed before he cleared his throat and turned his attention to his teammate. "You okay Emily?" he asked.

Emily turned a questioning glance his way. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know. You just seem more tired than usual."

Emily chuckled, but the humor didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm not a morning person, you know that," she reasoned.

Morgan nodded. "Yeah, I know. Its just that this seems different."

Emily simply offered a shrug as an explanation.

Morgan sighed. "Look Prentiss, I understand that you're not so comfortable with opening up. Hell, none of us are. Just know that if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here," he said softly before slipping past her and out into the lobby where the rest of the team was waiting.

Emily watched Morgan's retreating form for a second wondering when exactly she had become so transparent. Shaking her head, she took a steadying breath and walked the twenty or so paces to stand next to Reid. Hotch nodded at the assembled unit as a way of greeting before jumping right into assignments. "Rossi and Morgan, I want you to interview Arthur Brenna's employees. See if there's anything there we haven't already covered. Prentiss, you and JJ go to the tattoo parlor and see if you can find the artist who did Arthur Brenna's tattoo. Reid and I will go interview Max Temple's co-workers."

The team split up and shouldered open the glass doors to step back into the unusual warmth of the day. The temperature was already warming up and it was only 0700 hours. Emily rolled her eyes; today was going to suck, she could feel it.

The atmosphere in the SUV had settled into a slightly tense silence. JJ knew that they were both focusing on the case, which could act like a double-edged sword at times. It was good for them to keep the case in the forefront of their minds, especially one as violent as this one. On the other hand however, they could very easily spend too much time dwelling on it. If they allowed that to happen, the darkness of the job would consume them, much like it had Gideon. And JJ would be damned if she was going to let that happen to Emily.

She reached towards the radio. "Do you mind?"

Emily turned her head to see what JJ was referring to. She smiled gratefully at the blonde as she assured, "Not at all."

JJ began flipping through the stations, "Anything in particular you want?"

"Nope. You pick. I'm sure you'll be able to pick up some country stations."

The rejection was immediate as the blonde protested, "Are you trying to torture me?"

Confusion settled on Emily's features. "What? Why would that be torture? I thought you liked country music."

JJ shook her head emphatically. "I may listen to it every once in a while, and even on those rare occasions, its more pop country like Carrie Underwood or the Rascal Flatts. Even then its extremely rare."

She paused for a beat before continuing, "Besides, I can't even think the word country without rolling my eyes."

Emily chuckled. "Why not?"

"Country is all Will listens to. I don't think he's aware that there's more to life than that southern-twangy-noise he justifies as music. I mean, would it kill him to at least listen to the good music from New Orleans like blues, or maybe some jazz!"

Emily's snort broke through JJ's rant. "I'm guessing he doesn't let you pick the music?" she asked.

"No! He insists on driving everywhere and he has this stupid rule that the driver picks the music."

JJ instantly calmed down when she felt Emily's hand envelope her own. The brunette intertwined their fingers and squeezed JJ's hand. She waited until all the tension had left the blonde's shoulders. Smiling reassuringly Emily quietly said, "You don't have to worry about that here, Jayje. I'll never make you listen to music you don't like, eat at restaurants you can't stand, or see movies you don't enjoy. No matter how this thing between us plays out, I won't hold your opinions, likes or dislikes against you."

The emotion within that statement was too overwhelming for the media liaison to deal with. So instead of answering, she nodded before a smile lit up her face. "Found something!"

Emily blinked a few times at JJ. When the answer she was looking for didn't magically appear, she just had to ask, "You like Ani Difranco? She doesn't seem like your type."

It was JJ's turn to look confused. "She's okay. I appreciate her music, but not one of my favorites. I thought she was one of yours though."

"Why would you think that? Because I'm gay?" Emily asked.

"Well… yeah."

Emily burst out laughing. "Oh, honey, just because I'm gay and she's big with lesbians doesn't mean I'm a big fan of hers. I'm actually not big into the angsty chick with a guitar scene. I have to be in a specific mood for it."

JJ blushed. "Oh. I just assumed…"

Emily squeezed her hand again and joked, "You have a lot to learn about lesbians. Shockingly, not all of us wear plaid, drive pickup trucks, play softball or have mullets. Not all of us hate men either."

A mischievous twinkle appeared in JJ's blue eyes. "I guess you'll have to teach me then," she husked as she ran her hand up Emily's arm

It took everything in Emily's power to safely pull the SUV to a stop outside a small house that had been converted into a tattoo parlor. The words "Epic Arts Tattooing" blinked lazily on the neon sign. The two agents looked at each other before stepping out of the vehicle and making their way into the shop.

A woman in her late twenties was sitting behind a counter her short blue hair was spiked up and away from her face. Emily's eyes traveled from the tattoos that adorned the side of the woman's face and neck down her ink-covered arms. And, if Emily had to guess, there were more hidden underneath her black tank top.

The woman didn't even look up at the two agents before speaking. "We're pretty booked for the rest of the day, especially if you're looking for something complicated. The earliest I can book you is sometime on Friday."

JJ looked at Emily in confusion before she said, "That's three days away. Are you seriously that busy?"

The woman shrugged and replied, "Tattoos are in right now, and we're the best shop in town."

Emily shook her head and pulled out her credentials, tossing them onto the counter to catch the woman's attention. "Actually we're not here for a tattoo. We're from the FBI. I'm Agent Prentiss and this is Agent Jareau. We have some questions."

That caught the woman's attention, especially once she flipped open Emily's credentials. She immediately sat up straighter and asked, "What can I help you with?"

JJ pulled a picture of Arthur Brenna out of her pocket and handed it over. "Have you ever seen this man?" she asked.

Blue hair refused to move as the woman nodded and answered, "Yeah. He was here about two, maybe three months ago. He got words tattooed to his left shoulder blade. Hang on, I'll pull his information for you."

She made quick work of the computer system, pulling his file up in a time that would make Garcia proud. A few moments later, both Emily and JJ were holding a copy of the information, which wasn't much more than his name, birth date, payment information and his liability waiver. Emily scanned it quickly and without looking up asked, "Is the artist here?"

The sound of chair wheels moving quickly on the hardwood floor made Emily's head snap up in time to watch the woman sail away from the counter and towards the open door behind her. She knocked on the wall loudly until the mechanical buzzing from the tattoo guns stopped. "Trent, the FBI is here about a tattoo you did a few months ago."

She pushed off the wall and flew back towards the two agents. "He'll be out in a sec," she supplied.

Two minutes later a Caucasian man in his early thirties stepped from the back room and walked towards Emily and JJ. He was dressed in a flannel shirt that had the arms ripped off and a black cross embroidered on the left breast pocket. He was apparently tattoo free which struck Emily as a little odd for a tattoo artist. His hair was a shaggy brown that fell slightly in his eyes. He took the last couple of steps forward and extended his hand. "Trent Rodgers. What can I do for you?" he asked.

Emily grasped his hand and firmly shook it, never breaking eye contact. This man exuded confidence and he seemed very comfortable and in his element. She smiled as she introduced herself, "Agent Emily Prentiss. This is Agent Jareau. We have a few questions for you."

The tattoo artist released Emily's hand and casually leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he did so. JJ handed him the picture. "Do you know this man?"

Trent Rodgers studied it for a second and then nodded. "Absolutely; I tattooed two names to his left shoulder blade two months ago. I'm pretty sure they were his kids' names. If I remember correctly, his name is Brenna. Ummm, Arthur Brenna," he supplied.

Emily quirked an eyebrow at him surprised. "That's a pretty good memory, especially since he was here two months ago."

Rodgers shrugged and replied, "I remember all the tattoos I do. That way I'm prepared in case they come back. Why are you asking about him? Is he in some kind of trouble?"

JJ shook her head. "Not exactly. His body was found yesterday," she said.

Rodgers straightened slightly, the confusion apparent as he asked, "He's dead? Oh man, he seemed like a nice guy."

Emily chose not to comment on that and instead continued by asking, "Did anything stand out about him, anything odd? Anything or anyone that seemed out of place?"

Rodgers answered without hesitation, "Nope. He came in, I tattooed him, he tipped me a twenty and then left with instructions on how to keep it clean. He sent me a picture of that tattoo a couple of weeks later for my portfolio, but other than that I didn't notice anything. Sorry."

JJ took over the questioning, "What did you two talk about while you were doing the tattoo?"

"Nothing much. He talked mostly about his kids and his business. It seemed like he was really proud of those two boys."

Emily nodded and handed him her card. "Thank you for your time. If you think of anything else, please don't hesitate to call," she said.

He nodded. "Will do. Sorry I couldn't be more help."

With that Rodgers turned and went back towards the rear of the shop. Emily and JJ headed out the front door, back into the heat of the late morning hours. JJ slid into the passenger seat. "I would never get a tattoo. With my luck, I'd regret it later on. That being said, I can see the appeal."

Emily started the vehicle. "Oh yeah?"

JJ nodded as she answered, "Absolutely. I think they're interesting, and—on the right person—sexy as hell."

A smirk tugged at the corner of Emily's mouth. The look she sent JJ's way could only be described as smug. "Fascinating. I'm going to have to remember that for later."

JJ chuckled, "Why?"

The smirk simply grew and the look in Emily's eyes turned devilish. JJ looked at Emily in confusion before realization hit. "You have one, don't you?"
Emily simply laughed.

"Oh my God! You do! Where is it? And how come I don't know this?"

Emily shrugged. "You never asked," she reasoned as a way to evade the question JJ really wanted answered.

The blonde was not to be deterred though. "Come on Em. What is it? And more importantly, where is it?"

The brunette shook her head. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

JJ groaned and leaned back in the seat, "You are such a tease!"

"Well if you're good, I may be so inclined to show you later," the brunette stated.

JJ almost whimpered at the implication behind that. "So not helping right now," she whined.

Emily's laughter bounced around the interior of the vehicle as she continued to drive, her focus on the road.

Xxx-xxxxx-xxX

Derek Morgan tried not to pace within the confines of the waiting room he and Rossi were currently standing in. It wasn't like he was an impatient man by nature; instead it had to do with the fact that they had been waiting in this overly ornate room for the last twenty minutes. Apparently, Alex Miller was a very busy man.

Finally the receptionist looked up at them and said, "Mr. Miller can see you now."

Rossi nodded his thanks as he and Morgan walked into the office that was connected to the waiting room. A white man in his mid thirties stood from behind his desk, the coat of his suit long forgotten on the back of his chair. His black hair was slightly ruffled, his tie was loosened and his blue eyes were dull with exhaustion. He stuck his hand out and apologized, "I'm sorry to keep you agents waiting. I'm Alex Miller. Things have been really busy around here since Arthur's dea… um, since yesterday."

Rossi shook his hand and said, "I understand. You're the VP of the company?"

Miller smiled sadly and corrected him, "I was. But apparently Arthur thought I could keep things running around here, so he left the CEO position to me."

Morgan stopped looking around the office and turned his attention to the flustered man. "He left it all to you?" he asked.

Alex Miller nodded. "The workload is mine, but Arthur made sure his family would stay financially supported in case something happened to him. So his wife and I are more or less partners."

Rossi studied him as he asked, "Does she have any say in the business aspect of the company?"

The businessman shook his head and responded, "No. All the business decisions are mine, but the company is now under both of our names so she can continue to receive payments. Kind of like a silent partner."

He paused a moment to collect himself before he continued. "Arthur built this place from the ground up. We always joked that it was his third kid. It makes sense that he would want to keep it in the family, just in case his boys want to take it over someday. He was so very proud of this business and those boys."

Morgan spoke up again, "Did you notice anything different about Mr. Brenna's behavior recently? A change in his schedule maybe? Or did you notice anything or anyone suspicious?"

Miller thought about it for a second before shaking his head. "I can't think of anything. Everything seemed the same, he seemed the same: focused on his work and his family."

Rossi pressed further, "Anything else seem out of place?"

"No. Nothing seemed any different; we haven't even taken on any new clients recently. And before you ask, everyone here really liked Arthur. He was good to his employees. Arthur Brenna was good people, if that makes sense," Miller finished.

Morgan nodded, "Yeah, we get it. If there's anything else you can think of, give us a call."

Alex Miller nodded and took the card that Rossi was handing him. He continued to look at it as the two agents walked out of his office and onto the elevator. Silence settled between the two agents, even as they slid into the SUV and merged into traffic on their way back to the sheriff's office.

Xxx-xxxxx-xxX

Reid picked up the picture frame from the desk in front of him, turning it over so he could see what was inside. He skimmed the front page clipping of the tabloid magazine, smirking slightly at the headline splashed across the page in big bold letters: "Space Needle Proven to be UFO!" The picture right underneath it was a grainy black and white image of what appeared to be the Seattle Space Needle taking off. Smiling, he showed the headline to Hotch, who merely blinked at it.

The door behind the genius opened and he placed the frame back onto the desk before turning to face the man who entered. Hotch stepped towards the Caucasian man in his mid twenties, who was dressed in a light blue button down shirt and bleached blue jeans. A large leather watchband on his left wrist and a silver cross hanging around his neck completed the ensemble.

The man pointed at the picture frame Reid had just put down and explained, "That was Max's first cover story. Our readers enjoyed it so much that we gave him work on celebrity relationships."

He shook his head slightly and turned to Hotch, sticking his hand out. "I'm sorry, where are my manners? I'm Levi Parker. I'm the editor in chief here at The Daily Rag."

Hotch accepted Parker's handshake and introduced himself. "I'm SSA Hotchner. And this is Dr. Reid. We have a few questions about Max Temple."

Levi Parker nodded. "Of course. Anything I can do to help you find whoever did this. Max was a great guy and a great employee."

Reid stepped forward and began, "I'm sorry. Did you say that you are the editor in chief?"

Parker smiled at him before explaining, "Yes. I know; I'm younger than most people who hold my position. I just got lucky I guess."

Hotch steered the conversation back to Temple. "What was Mr. Temple working on prior to his death?"

The editor thought for a moment and then snapped his fingers. "It was a exposé on a drug ring being run out of local restaurants," he explained.

Reid shared a look with Hotch before asking; "He was writing a piece on a drug ring? I'm not usually wrong about things, but my overall knowledge of certain areas of pop culture is a little fuzzy. I personally never really saw the benefit of knowing what celebrities are currently doing in their everyday lives."

Hotch cleared his throat to get Reid back on track. Reid simply smiled in apology as he continued, "Even with all of that, my understanding of tabloid journalism is that it doesn't, in fact, focus on issues that are so serious or important."

Levi Parker paused to process what was just said, his head nodding numbly along on its own accord for a few seconds before his brain finally caught up. He stepped around Hotch and pulled a manuscript off the desk. "It usually doesn't, but Max wasn't working on the story for the Rag. He and I were working on starting a magazine that was more investigative journalism than tabloid reporting. Max and I both agreed that our talents were being wasted here, so we were trying to start our own publication." He handed the papers over to Hotch.

Hotch accepted the manuscript and asked, "Did anyone else know that Mr. Temple was writing this piece?"

"No one else other than me, his sources, and now you."

Reid spoke up again, "Are his sources reliable?"

Parker nodded emphatically, "Most of his sources have worked as informants for the police as well."

Reid found it curious how Levi Parker knew this bit of information and shot a sidelong glance at Hotch.

"Can you think of anyone that would want to hurt Mr. Temple? Maybe other employees, or an ex?" Hotch asked.

The editor didn't have to think before he answered, "No. Everyone loved Max. I just don't understand how something like this could happen."

Hotch nodded in understanding before handing the younger man his card. "If you can think of anything else…" he let the sentence trail off, the meaning clear to the editor.

Levi Parker took the card and then said, "If you need anything else, let me know."

The two agents nodded and then walked out of the office, letting the door shut behind them. They made their way to the SUV and Reid finally spoke as Hotch began the drive back to the sheriff's department, "I hope the others had more luck than we did."

Hotch didn't react as he continued to drive the ten or so miles to the department.

Xxx-xxxxx-xxX

Emily walked into the room the team was currently using as a base of operations, four coffee cups balanced in a carrier. She placed the carrier on the table and accepted the one that JJ was handing her. They shared a quick smile before Emily winked at the blonde and made her way to a seat on the other side of the table. Hotch looked at JJ as she and Emily got situated before asking, "How did it go with the tattoo artist?"

JJ shrugged as Emily answered, "He wasn't really helpful, which we kind of expected. According to Trent Rodgers, the tattoo artist, Arthur Brenna was a good guy. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but their interaction was minimal. Brenna's tattoo was his kids' names, so the time they spent together would probably be limited to an hour at the most."

Rossi continued with the details of his visit to Alex Miller. "The same could be said for Mr. Brenna's VP. He claims that everyone loved Arthur Brenna and that there weren't any issues with his employees. There weren't any people hanging around or anything that seemed out of the ordinary."

Morgan jumped in, "It may or may not be important, but Alex Miller, the VP, and Mrs. Brenna inherited the company."

The team let that information sink in for a moment before Hotch said, "Max Temple's editor gave us an article that Mr. Temple had been working on that would expose a drug ring being run out of local restaurants. That may be a lead worth looking into. JJ, you and Emily take a look at it. Focus on things that seem out of the ordinary, or players that fit the profile."

Hotch then turned to Reid and asked, "Where are we with those numbers?"

Reid shrugged. "I just got off the phone with Garcia and nothing has come up so far. They don't fit symmetric or asymmetric key algorithms, and a Feistel cipher is out of the question. They don't seem to be fitting any of the other known ciphers, so they must mean something only to the UNSUB. We won't be able to figure it out until we get a better profile."

Reid took a much-needed breath and continued before anyone could interrupt him, "The same goes for the geographical profile. I couldn't sleep last night, so I started mapping out the geographic locations. There is only so much I can do with only the two dump sites as references."

Hotch held up a hand to silence the genius before he said, "Keep working on that. Add the tattoo parlor and the victims' offices. Let's see if that turns anything out."

He turned to Morgan and Rossi. "You two get to work on the phone records. If the numbers don't correspond to family or friends, I want to know about it," he delegated.

With that the unit chief stood and moved to toward the door. He paused and turned back to his team. "Let's get this done. We need a profile to present, so find that missing link."

With that he turned and walked out of the room, leaving his agents to do what they did best. Emily stood and grabbed her coffee off the table, moving to the chair next to JJ that had been vacated by Hotch. She slid into it and pulled a copy of the article towards her before reaching for a pen that was lying out on the table. As she reached for it, she purposely brushed the blonde's hand. Emily smirked when she felt the tremor from JJ that danced quickly passed her fingers.

JJ's breath caught in her throat, and she closed her eyes to fully relish the feel of Emily's hand on hers. The contact didn't last too long however, nowhere as long as JJ would have liked, before Emily focused on the article. The look of determination on her face was mirrored by JJ's own feelings: they needed to find this bastard so she could go back to figuring her own life out. JJ threw a quick sidelong glance at Emily and couldn't stop the swelling of emotions within her. Emily was truly magnificent, but was it enough? Could she risk everything to be with the brunette? Could she risk losing her family on the chance that she and Emily could actually be together?

All those fears vanished as Emily tossed a look at JJ from the corner of her eye. The smirk that was now firmly on Emily's face told JJ that she had been caught staring.

JJ's mind shifted direction as she began to wonder what it would be like to be with Emily. To wake up next to her every morning, to know that Emily was hers, to be able to kiss those lips whenever she wanted would be…unbelievable. Amazing. Staggering. Immensely satisfying. Just to name a few.

She started to chew on the end of her pen as her mind went further. True, she could lose everything by being with Emily, but JJ couldn't deny the fact that the brunette made her exceedingly happy. So happy that she couldn't keep the smile off of her face whenever she was near Emily.

There were so many problems when she was with Will. There was so much tension between them, and it wasn't the good kind of tension she could feel building between her and Emily. Will had also been bringing up marriage more often, which was usually followed by him requesting that she quit her job. She was starting to feel pressured by his very presence.

Yet, when she took a step back, she realized none of that was present when she was with the gorgeous woman in front of her. Maybe once she got over the fear of coming out and the inevitable family drama, life with Emily could be that easy.

"JJ, you okay?"

Emily's question pulled her out of her musings. JJ turned and gave Emily a reassuring smile. "Yeah. Sorry."

Emily returned the smile before focusing back on the transcript in front of her.

JJ shook her head to clear the remainder of her previous thoughts. This case needed her attention now; everything else could wait until later. What she needed to focus on was finding this guy before he killed again, and JJ seriously hoped that they could because no one deserved to die that way. The only problem was that it seemed he needed to kill again before they could complete the profile. Sometimes JJ really hated her job. She sighed as she dove into the work in front of her, throwing a quick prayer to any god that was listening. They were going to need it.