A/N: Thank you so much for the detailed reviews for the last chapter! I love knowing that people recognize the emotions I wrote as being genuine. I loved, too, a comment made about 'irrational anger' felt towards Reid. Not in this chapter, but later in the story there will be some JJ and Reid problems and confrontation (and, resolution as well.) For now Hotch has his own confrontations to deal with.

"Right now you're looking at a life sentence in maximum security. I can help you with that, but only if you're the first one to talk to me. Any of your friends take the offer first and you're shut out in the cold." Rossi's elbows rested on the interrogation table, his weight shifted forward. Someone watching without listening might think a friendly chat was happening, at least from Rossi's side of things.

Marc Fisk sat in silence on the other side of the table, his arms crossed. He was a cold bastard, not reacting to threats or promises. Their chances of breaking him were slim, just like the others. No one, in all their hours of interviews so far, had answered a question or asked for anything except a lawyer. It was only from the victim interviews that they knew anything about the organization. The victims, and JJ.

It was supposed to be Hotch's interview, but the call from Garcia had come just before they'd begun and he'd stepped out of the room to answer the phone. For just a moment he'd been glad of the reprieve. Now he was even more worried. Worried enough that he'd made a second call even though he didn't want to put any pressure on JJ.

"We know there are clients in other locations. You seem like a guy who knows what's going on; I'm sure you can tell us where the list is and how to get to it. Each name you get me will take time off your sentence. It could be the difference between a life starring at a cement wall and a few years watching daytime tv. You don't really want to live the rest of your life in a cage, do you?" Rossi tore a piece of paper off a legal pad, pushing it across the table with a pen.

Hotch leaned against the wall, watching silently as the man actually picked up the pen. Nothing about him read as a man close to cracking, or breaking away from the pack. Hotch couldn't see him giving up the names. He was right; the only two words on the paper when Fisk was done were 'fuck you.'

"He doesn't have anything for us. Let him rot." Hotch didn't even glance at the paper a second time before leaving the room. A moment later Rossi followed, but Hotch was already heading for his office. He was checking his phone for messages, hoping JJ had called or at least texted, and didn't realize until he was halfway to his desk that he wasn't alone.

"Ma'am." He set his phone down on the corner of his desk; there wasn't a message from JJ or Garcia. Erin Strauss stood at the window, but he didn't approach her. She would say whatever she needed to, and he would listen but he would do so from behind his desk.

"Eighteen arrests last night. Very impressive."

"Most of the credit should go to Andi Swan and her team. We'd be nowhere without them." The case also might have been impossible without two dead young adults and two undercover agents, but it was the connections Andi had made between her case and his that had started things happening.

"Of course. Agent Swan is a credit to the Bureau." Though he offered a chair Strauss did not sit; he had the position of power behind the desk and she wasn't about to give up the higher ground. The few times she'd been in his office she'd never taken a seat. "I've been told that Agent Matlin is in stable condition. They should be able to move her out of ICU tomorrow."

"That's good to hear." It was confusing, as well. Strauss was not in his office to discuss Renee's condition. She wasn't here to praise his team for the arrests last night, either.

"I've been getting some calls from the press about the case. Somehow it was leaked that there were undercover agents involved. They're looking for a story."

"I don't think Renee will be ready to talk to anyone for some time." She certainly shouldn't be subjected to reporters in her hospital room after what she'd been through the past week.

"I would have to agree. She was not, however, the only agent undercover. How is Agent Jareau feeling?" Strauss raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow, and the visit suddenly made sense.

"She's on leave for at least the next week, and doesn't need to deal with the press. She's been separated from her family for months now, and needs to recover and spend time with them." If need be he would make sure that every member of her BAU family stood between her and any reporters. He'd do everything he could to keep Strauss away from her as well. It was going to be bad enough when Andi had to debrief her, and she'd be as careful as possible, something that would not be true of Strauss or any reporter.

"It would be good publicity for the Bureau, and it's not your decision to make, Agent Hotchner. I am going out of my way to keep you informed, despite the fact that she's not a member of your team anymore, but I can and will speak with her myself." With an air of determination, Strauss raised her chin in the same way a queen might, dismissing a servant, and turned towards the door.

"Chief Strauss..." His phone, turned to silent, vibrated against the desk with a dull humming sound. Normally he would have ignored it until Strauss was gone, but right now he didn't care about proper protocol. That, or Dave was a bad influence on him and he was beginning to enjoy annoying their chief. He glanced at the screen, glad that he did when he read the words 'JJ calling.' "I need to take this."

"Agent Hotchner." She was not a woman who liked to be ignored, not even when she was the one about to leave.

"Hotchner," he said with more formality then he would have if he was alone. He half turned his back to the room's other occupant, not feeling the need to betray how relieved he was to hear JJ's voice on the other end of the call. As his calls, as well as everyone else's, had gone unanswered all afternoon he'd been growing more and more concerned.

"I can be there in twenty minutes." He only paid enough attention to Strauss to know that she left his office. Most of his attention was on JJ and her reassurances that she was fine. It was a word that was beginning to lose its meaning, especially when it came to how she was feeling. At least she was letting him pick her up, instead of her first suggestion of calling a cab. He hated to think of how tired she was, if she'd been walking all afternoon. "I'm leaving right now."

The only detour he made after filling his briefcase with files was to walk to the office right next door. "I need a favor."

"Name it." They were only halfway through interviews, but the rest were scheduled for the next day. Rossi was at his desk with a stack of reports and a mug of coffee that Hotch was sure he wished was a glass of scotch instead. In another hour, when most of the building was vacated, it might be.

"Strauss was just in my office. She's decided that JJ would make a great human interest piece in the papers. I told her it was a bad idea, but you know she won't listen to me." She didn't like to listen to Rossi either, but he had some sway over her. He didn't use it often, but he generally got his way when he pushed hard enough. He'd push for JJ.

"She rarely listens to anyone who disagrees with her." Rossi shook his head, and scowled at the empty doorway as if Strauss would appear there any second. It took him a moment to notice the briefcase Hotch was holding. "You going somewhere?"

"JJ called. She walked farther then she can walk back to her apartment. I told her it made more sense for me to pick her up then it did to call a cab."

"JJ doesn't need to deal with the kind of crap Strauss is trying to pull. In fact I don't think she even needs to know it was a possibility." Rossi pushed himself back from the desk. "You go get JJ. I'll take care of things here, and that includes Erin."

"Thanks." Rossi knew what needed to be done, without any questions, both when it came to taking care of JJ's interests and those of the rest of the team. He'd make sure the others didn't stay too late; they were all putting in more overtime than usual on this case, for obvious reasons, but they wouldn't help JJ if they burned themselves out.

II

He almost drove past JJ. Her hair was down and covering half her face, and the tank top she wore showed off arms that were a little thinner then he remembered; she looked not unlike the twenty-something year old she'd been pretending to be during her assignment. She was leaner and more imposing than the twenty-four year old JJ he'd met, though, fresh out of the Academy and eager to prove herself. As she walked towards the car he could tell that she was trying to hide a slight limp; her leg must be bothering her.

"I let Garcia know that you were with me, so she should stop texting you every five minutes." He waited until she was buckled in before pulling away from the curb. "Where are we going?"

"CVS." She seemed to lose a few inches of height as she sunk into the seat, leaning heavily against the headrest. "I haven't checked my texts, just the phone messages."

"There's some Tylenol in the glove compartment if you need any, and a bottle of water if you lift up the armrest." He had a vague idea of what some of her phone messages had been like; she didn't need another person asking if she was alright. She also didn't need the reminder that people were worried about her.

"Thanks." She didn't move, though, barely stirring on the drive to the pharmacy. With the evening traffic what should have been a ten minute trip took twenty; she'd managed to pass her original destination by more than a couple of miles.

"Do you want me to come in?" he offered. JJ shook her head.

"It shouldn't take me more than a few minutes; I called it in this morning."

"I'll wait here at the curb, then." He didn't want her to have to walk any further than necessary. He would have offered to go in for her, but knew that the offer wouldn't be accepted.

JJ was right when she said that it wouldn't take long. He barely had time to check the messages on his phone before she returned; though they were all important the only one that mattered to him at the moment was Dave's, saying that Strauss was pissed but had grudgingly agreed to call off the reporter.

"Home?" he asked. JJ had returned with a plastic bag and a water bottle already half empty. He hoped that meant she'd taken a pain killer; he knew the ER doctor had written her a prescription.

"I guess," she said without enthusiasm. Without emotion, really, and that worried him more then whether or not she'd taken medicine for her sore leg. Of all the words he could use to describe JJ over the years that he'd known her, emotionless had never been one that had ever been applicable.

"Would you rather come over to my place? Jack's spending the night at a friend's house. I was going to order Chinese for dinner. I could get sweet and sour pork." His plan really had been to make a sandwich, something he could eat while working on paperwork, but Chinese was one of her favorite foods, especially sweet and sour pork.

"Garcia's already worrying enough. I should go home." She wounded more normal when talking about Garcia; it always was easier for JJ to deal with other people's emotions rather then to express her own.

"I'll let her know you're spending a couple hours at my place. I might even suggest that she get a good night's rest at her own place so she can be in the office tomorrow morning." JJ hadn't mentioned it, but he suspected that she needed her own space.

"You don't need to change any plans for me, Hotch. I'm fine."

"You'd be helping me out, really. The apartment's too quiet when Jack's gone for the night." It wasn't a lie; the empty apartment reminded him of the months when Haley and Jack were in witness protection and he had nothing to come home to, not even the hope of a weekend visit with his son. Since Jack had been with him full time the two bedroom apartment was rarely quiet.

"Alright, but I should be the one to call Garcia; it's not fair to her to keep ignoring her messages. And I get to buy dinner." She was looking out the side window, so Hotch didn't bother hiding how relieved he was that she'd agreed so easily.

"That seems fair." He took a u-turn at the next light, heading for his apartment. They could call in their order; by now the delivery man knew him by name.