After she'd left Emily in Paris, JJ flew back to Afghanistan with a renewed sense of purpose. But after a frustrating week of getting nowhere with figuring out who the traitor in her group was, her week off came, and she flew back home.

She'd stopped at Derek's to check in on him before going home. Derek was not doing well at all, and she was worried and felt so guilty. It had been right on the tip of her tongue to tell him that Emily was alive, but she knew that would explode in all their faces. Where she and Hotch could remain emotionally detached and level-headed, Derek would fly off the handle. He was too on edge to do anything else. As soon as that happened, Hotch's career, her career and Emily's life would all be in danger. She'd hugged him, she'd comforted him, and she'd let him believe the lie.

The first few days home were like they always were, complete happiness at just being back with her family. She enjoyed every minute with Henry, and always those first few days, Will was just so overjoyed to see her that he didn't ask a lot of questions.

On Monday morning, she met Hotch on her way to the Pentagon. She wasn't looking forward to the meeting. In fact, she was pretty pissed off at Hotch for creating another situation where she had to lie, even though this particular lie about Emily was the one she felt she could handle best because it was the right thing to do for her friend. Still, seeing Hotch made her stress and frustration about her whole life right now rise to the surface.

"Everything go okay in Paris?" he asked.

"Everything went just as planned," she said quietly.

"Good. And you? How are you doing, JJ?"

She looked down. "I hate lying."

"I know, but it's for her safety."

"I know. What are you going to do about finding Doyle so she can come home?"

Hotch caught her eye before he dropped his gaze. "I'm not sure there's anything I can do at the moment. I'm taking a lot of heat about Emily's death, JJ. I've got to play by the rules right now until the scrutiny dies down."

She narrowed her eyes. "And what if that doesn't happen?"

"I don't know. I'll figure something out."

"We can't just leave her out there on her own forever, Hotch. She didn't even get to make this decision, you didn't ask her, just decided for her. And you decided for me, that I was the one who was going to have to pull this off and directly lie to people I care about. I'm tired of getting fucked over by this job. I'm tired of lies."

She felt the tears then and stepped away from him. He looked sad and concerned. "JJ, I know. You were forced to leave the BAU and I forced your hand at this."

Yes, and in three days I have to fly back to Afghanistan. Did you know that, Hotch? I'm in the middle of a fucking war zone, not at some cush Embassy. And I'm pretty sure there's a killer and rapist on my team. Isn't that fucking great?

JJ took a deep breath. "It's okay, Hotch. I want her to be safe, too. I need to get to work."

He hesitated before nodding. "OK, JJ. You take care. I'm not giving up getting you back on the team."

The bitter, harsh words were out before she could think about them. "That might be easier now since there's another vacancy on the team, huh?"

"JJ," Hotch said softly.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. It's all just really stressful. I know deep down you made the right decision, Aaron. I do. And I'm glad you're not giving up on getting me back, but I'm not sure how that would work for my life. And I'm not sure it matters; the Pentagon is not going to let me go anytime soon."

With those words, she turned and walked away, back to her car.

On Tuesday morning, with a day off stretched in front of her, Will left for work and she spent the morning at the park with Henry. That afternoon, when Henry was napping, she pulled her laptop towards her and opened her personal email that she used for purely mindless activities - subscriptions to funny blogs, twitter, facebook and online games. She didn't see the email on her first glance through her new messages, but on her second sweep, her heart skipped and she smiled. Blackbird1012 has started a game with you on Scrabble.

She and Emily had started playing online Scrabble together when JJ left the BAU. Though this was a different handle, she was certain Blackbird1012 was Emily. Logging into the game, she smiled again when she saw the first played word, Boo. It wasn't a word up to Emily's usual standards by far, but she understood. Emily was trying to say hello with the letters she'd been given.

JJ looked at her letters and grinned again. Using a wild tile for one of the Ls, she spelled Hello, using one of Emily's Os. Almost immediately Blackbird1012 was online and "Finally!" appeared in the chat window.

"Sorry. Not much access when I'm at work."

"I know how that goes. So, CheetoBreath, where are you from?"

JJ got it. Emily was trying to act like she was just some random stranger playing an online game with another random stranger. But she was excited. If they were careful, they could communicate this way.

"Right outside Washington, DC. What about you?"

"Madrid."

Maria Fuentes, thought JJ. From Spain. She wasn't surprised Emily had chosen that identity first. She could fit in well there with her Spanish.

"Have you lived there long?" JJ typed.

"No. Only for a few days, actually. This is where my father is from, so I decided to take a couple of months to visit the area while I'm between jobs."

Emily was in Madrid, and she was planning to stay a couple of months.

"I've never been to Spain."

"It's a beautiful country. Maybe you'll be able to visit it someday."

JJ raised her eyebrows. Could she? She probably shouldn't. No, not probably. She really shouldn't. But could she? There might be a way.

"I should do that. Someday. I travel through Europe a lot for work. Maybe I'll make my next layover in Spain."

She stared at the message window and no words appeared for several long minutes. She could almost visualize Emily contemplating the advisability of JJ visiting her. Finally, "If you do get to Madrid, I highly recommend La Buganvilla for a restaurant. They have the best paella. I'm pretty addicted to it. I've been going every day for lunch or dinner. But it's not good for the waistline! I've promised to cut back to just Friday night dinners from now on."

JJ grinned. She knew exactly how to find her now. She heard Henry stirring in his room.

"I'll definitely keep that in mind," she typed. "Gotta run. My son just woke up from his nap."

"OK. I'll play my turn before logging out. Maybe we can chat again sometime soon."

The inevitable grouchiness appeared in Will that night, her fourth night home, two days before she was scheduled to leave again. A two week assignment at the US Embassy in England, as far as he knew, but really back to Afghanistan. Everything was always precise in order to maintain her cover; her plane tickets said London, or Paris or Berlin. A military plane picked her up from there and took her the rest of the way.

"I hate this, too, Will. Remember, just five or six more months, and then I can start trying to find an exit strategy." She hated lying to him, she hated leaving him and Henry. She loved him, but being around him when he was like this just compounded her guilt. She leaned against him on the couch, resting her head on his chest.

"We're trying to have another baby, Jen, and you're hardly ever around when that could happen."

More guilt she had to push down. Will thought she was relatively safe inside US Embassies, negotiating, being a spokesperson, when in reality she was essentially in a war zone. She took a calming breath, lifted her head and smiled softly at him. "Come on, Super Sperm. We were using condoms when I got pregnant with Henry. We'll only be off by a day this time. I'm sure your little swimmers can hang in there for twenty-four hours."

He turned his mood around, which she knew wasn't easy for him. He grinned at her. "Technically they can hang in there for seventy-two hours."

She laughed lightly, standing and reaching for his hand. "Well, then, I guess we better get started."

Two days later, she was almost glad to leave home. Will's mood was all over the map, and Spence had stopped by, crying about Emily. She'd held him and let him cry, crying with him because of his sadness and her guilt. She said goodbye to Will and Henry with genuine tears in her eyes, but the cab ride to the airport still felt like a relief in a lot of ways.

When she landed in London, she picked up the phone on the military plane and called Strauss. "Will is getting suspicious at my need to constantly be at the same three embassies so frequently. We need to switch it up. Throw Italy or Spain or something into the mix," she said casually. "I trust you'll let the right people know."

"Yes, I understand. I'll be sure to let people know," Strauss said flatly.

JJ disconnected the phone. God, she hated that woman. But then she smiled. She knew Spain would come around as one of her covers, hopefully before Emily left.

Three weeks later, it did. She sat in her living room, Henry in her lap while he watched a movie, and read her work email, getting her next assignment. Madrid.

She'd spend ten days in Afghanistan, and her return flight home from Madrid wasn't until Saturday evening. She'd just need to talk the military pilots into flying her to Spain on Friday morning instead of Saturday morning. Piece of cake, she thought. They'd be glad to get out of that hell hole and take a night off in Madrid before flying back. No one had to know the exact time of her return flight, and if she somehow got caught, a simple shrug of the shoulders mistaking 6:30am for 6:30pm for her Saturday flight could explain it.

She was tempted to let Emily know she was coming, but didn't want to put that in writing anywhere, even on a relatively safe chat area in a Scrabble game. The only way they could keep communicating there was if they absolutely made it seem like they didn't know each other at all.

JJ waited out the weeks. Only Cruz was there most of those ten days she was in Afghanistan that time around, the other members on the team on a different assignment. They became friendly, even though she didn't completely trust any of them. She probably trusted Cruz the most, though. They did their jobs, she helped question people, soothing scared women. And in the evenings, she played cards with Cruz, counting down the days to that second Friday in May, when she would see her friend and have twenty-four hours with someone she trusted completely and, most importantly, someone she could be completely honest with about her current life.

Twenty-four hours with no guilt.