A/N: First of all, my sincere apologies for the delay to everyone who has been waiting for updates. (Provided there is still someone reading this. Anyone? I'm not sure and I couldn't blame you.) However, I had a severe writer's block regarding this story and even considered to leave it unfinished, but then my muse returned from her grave, so to speak. There will be four more chapters (including this one). And the good news is that they are all more or less written already (I'm in the middle of editing). So that means no more hiatus. There will be updates every couple of days until the story is complete.

As to the 'previously': The storyline is quite complex. So you might have to re-read some stuff to get the references. Again, my apologies.

Having said that, I still hope there are people reading this who will enjoy the final installments. Here we go!

The usual disclaimer applies.

Let me go

It's almost midnight when Hotch knocks at the door of Emily Prentiss' apartment. He is in that semi-timeless state an ongoing case brings along, full of energy despite the sleep deprivation that has started to set in. Hotch is used to reduce his need of sleep to four hours max if the investigation requires it. He doesn't know whether the same goes for Emily Prentiss or not but considering that he received no call or text message from her after his announcement that he would come over later, he is quite certain that she has learned to get on with a minimum of sleep as well. If she intends to let him in at all.

She does. Emily invites him in non-verbally, a tilt of her head indicating that he is supposed to follow her into her living room. An open fire makes the room comfortably warm; jazz is playing in the background. She pours him a glass of red wine. The fire. The music. The wine. This is a scenario as if nothing happened here although there was a bloody pentagram on the floor and a photo of her deceased friends pinned to the wall right in this room only hours ago. The entire setting feels surreal.

"I compartmentalize well," Emily explains, reading his thoughts as she sits down opposite to him in an armchair. "It came with the job." She shrugs. The time she spent undercover. And indeed, she appears to be the epitome of calm although that should be impossible given the circumstances, only the shadow flitting across her face evidence that she is affected by what happened, no matter how professionally she handles it.

Hotch nods. He understands. Compartmentalization used to be a crucial factor in his world, too, but he left it behind or at least thought so until this case has brought back the necessity.

"I wanted to check on you in person," he says. He needs an explanation as to why he is here, doesn't he? Still is uncertain when it comes to his reasons. What is it about her that made him drive over in the middle of the night just to see her?

"That's...," she searches for the right word and settles for, "...nice." Emily screws up her face. "Sorry. I'm not good at casual conversations. At least not in private," she adds when Hotch raises his eyebrows because given her occupation she has to be, let alone that he witnessed her excel in small talk first hand during the opening of her exposition.

Maybe that's what the attraction is about. Every time he thinks he knows something about her, there is another layer that surprises him.

Emily swirls the wine in her glass, her gaze drifting off to a place inside. "I tried to get in touch with the bereaved of my friends although I knew it wouldn't be easy. I had a bad reputation as a teen. Can you believe it?" She laughs bitterly. "So I expected them to not exactly be welcoming. But Matthew's parents hung up on me the moment they heard my name and even if John's sister talked to me, you could tell she couldn't wait for the call to end." Emily swallows. "They wouldn't even let me properly say goodbye in hindsight."

She swirls the wine in her glass some more, watching it mesmerized, her sadness obvious now. No more compartmentalization. There is nothing Hotch could say to make her feel better; they both know that.

"So, will this nightly session appear on my bill?" Emily breaks the comfortable silence, abruptly changing subject and mood in the process.

Hotch can never tell what will happen next when he is with her. "No, it won't," he plays along, his tone of voice matching hers – noncommittal, bordering on flirtatious. Is it all just a game for her?

She holds his gaze, studying him thoughtfully. "Why are you really here?" Another change of subject and mood. Her teasing regarding the bill was just a distraction to catch him off-guard.

"Because I wanted to..."

"...check on me in person. Yeah, you already said that," she interrupts him. "You pay nightly visits to all your clients?"

Hotch is certain that Emily has been noticing for quite a while that he is attracted to her. Considering her background, it doesn't come as a surprise that she is able to see through him. What comes as a surprise is the way she addresses it – only between the lines, and yet, she couldn't be more blunt, practically daring him to take things one step further. For a brief moment Hotch wishes she wouldn't sit in an armchair opposite to him but next to him within touching distance. Then he reminds himself that Emily is his client, that this is a work-related visit. Has to be, no matter how drawn he is to her.

"It's late. I should go." Hotch puts his glass down and stands up.

She mirrors his actions and then steps forward so that they are face to face, their bodies almost touching. "Are you sure you want to leave?"

"Emily, I..." Hotch has no idea what to say or do, simply because he cannot reckon up her character. Does she not want to be alone because of what happened? Needs company and he arrived at the opportune moment? Or does she actually reciprocate his feelings?

"Sure, you should go," she takes the words out of his mouth again. And yet, she remains standing in place for another moment before she steps aside to let him through.

Only when her apartment door closes behind him and he finds himself alone in the hallway, Hotch wonders what the hell just happened.

They are stuck. The BAU team is used to investigate complex facts and circumstances. A motive that traces back to occurrences decades ago and a possible suspect that is under the blessing of the Lord are a unique situation, though, even for their expertise.

Hotch is on the phone with Rossi. He is their liaison to the Vatican, calming waves whenever the rest of the team is causing them.

"So how's it going?" Hotch asks.

"Oh, you know. The old tale of lies and betrayal. Those Vatican walls are thicker than blood and political accuracy."

"If anyone can get through them, it's you."

Rossi pauses.

"What?"

"They are hiding something, Aaron. The problem is, we don't know whether it's related to the case or something entirely different that has nothing to do with it," he sounds tired.

"You will find out."

"I always do, don't I?"

Despite the tense situation, Hotch has to smile. He has always appreciated Rossi's sophistication and composure.

"It's time we have dinner together again."

Rossi is a brilliant cook and wine connoisseur. His dinner invitations are legendary. Whenever he invites the team over, Hotch tries to join them.

"Someone is in a good mood today." Rossi knows him too well. And he is right. Hotch's encounter with Emily last night, as strange as it was, has left positive marks. A glimmer of light in an otherwise dark world.

"Thanks for coming by on such a short notice."

It's late. They are in her apartment again, but this time there is no open fire, music or wine. The only thing reminding Hotch of the previous evening is the way they are seated. Everything else is different, especially Emily's mood. She is tense; it is the first time he has seen her so nervous, bordering on anxious.

"Clyde contacted me," she begins without preamble. "And you can call me paranoid, but there are some things I won't talk about on the phone and my apartment is the only place where I am certain that no one is able to listen."

He wouldn't call her paranoid. If she believes these are necessary precautions, then she probably is right. Given her past, Emily Prentiss for sure has some dangerous enemies. Let alone that there are countless so called journalists that would do anything for a good story about her.

She takes a deep breath. "Contrary to what his contacts told Clyde earlier, he has come to know that Doyle did escape from prison. It's not official because someone screwed up big time, but I'd say that puts Ian on the top of the list of suspects. Maybe he staged all of this, just made it look as if this is about my past and as if some crazy priest is behind it to play with me."

Ian. Hotch can't say if his first name actually rolls off her tongue that easily or if it was a slip.

"He knows about your… about what happened in Italy? You told him?"

"Yes, I did." Her voice is flat but without any hint of an apology or justification. Being undercover is hard, even the best need some bonding from time to time, and by now, Hotch is aware that she developed a special bond with Ian Doyle.

Either way, their prime suspect was a priest gone rogue until now. An enemy Emily Prentiss took seriously but didn't consider a real threat. Ian Doyle is a different kind of criminal. Someone who makes you look over your shoulder everywhere you go and lock every door behind you twice.

"I have to inform the team," Hotch says.

"Yes, you should definitely do that." Emily wrings her hands, her tension palpable. When Hotch reaches for his phone, she contorts her face. "Do it in person, please," Emily reminds him.

Hotch nods and stands up. It has been a short visit. He would like to stay, especially after what she just told him.

"Are you ok?" he asks.

She shrugs. "I have a gun. I can protect myself." Playing it cool when she's anything but.

The thought hits him out of the blue that perhaps part of her concern stems from the fear that even though she has a gun, Emily might worry whether she actually will be able to pull the trigger to defend herself against Doyle considering their history.

"What?" As if she literally can see his thoughts. She would be an excellent profiler.

Hotch would like to ask her, but he is aware that this would lead to a talk that would take up too much time. Time they don't have right now. He needs to inform the BAU immediately, at least Morgan and Rossi since the rest of the team probably has already gone home.

"You will have to tell us everything about Doyle," he says instead.

"I know," Emily agrees. "I will come in first thing tomorrow morning."

Hotch can tell she already dreads it. Having to speak about Doyle in general because it will bring up old memories as well as standing in front of the team and having to reveal her intimate relationship with a wanted criminal. No amount of professionalism will be able to balance out the humiliation although he is dead certain that she won't let it show.

"Good night, Emily." For now she is safe with security outside and a gun to protect herself. That doesn't make it any easier for Hotch to leave though. "Call me if anything comes up, no matter the time."

"I will." She smiles half-heartedly.

When he turns around, she reaches out and touches his arm. "Hotch? Thank you."

Of all the things he expected her to say, this wasn't on his list. He brushes her fingers, but she is already pulling her hand away again, the moment over.

Hotch clears his throat. "See you tomorrow."

Another time he finds himself in the hallway in front of her apartment wondering how much longer he will be able to keep up the professional facade.

"You're in early," JJ greets Reid. He is standing in the middle of their open space office, surrounded by everything they secured as evidence in Emily Prentiss' case.

"Couldn't sleep. It has to be in here somewhere. What does the 2nd package mean? Did you see that there are all these tiny question marks on the paper shreds? I thought it was dirt first, but they are question marks. So, what is the question? And what is the answer?" Reid stares at the package with the paper shreds.

JJ picks up one of the paper shreds. "God, you're right"

The door of Rossi's office opens. He and Hotch come out.

"Wow! Everyone is in early today," JJ states.

"Yeah, they've been here all night. Morgan, too. And I overheard that Emily Prentiss will come in soon," Reid informs her absentmindedly.

"That requires more coffee." JJ heads off to the office kitchen.

Reid barely notices it, staring at the paper shreds. He needs to solve that riddle. It's driving him crazy.

"Wow! Three nights in a row. People will say we're in love," Emily greets Hotch as she opens the door of her apartment.

He can't tell whether she is drunk or simply happy although he can't imagine why she would be given the circumstances. Either way, she leaves him no time to respond, turning around and going back into her living room, obviously expecting him to follow her. As if he had done anything else recently.

"Any news?" She is drinking wine, pouring him a glass, too. So alcohol is responsible for her high spirits, at least partly.

Hotch takes the glass but doesn't drink the wine. He already knows it will taste exquisite. Emily Prentiss has the best taste when it comes to anything except criminals she gets involved with.

"What's going on?" he asks.

"Come on, Aaron. Loosen up a little." She fumbles around with his tie, trying to undo the knot.

"Emily." He grabs her hand to stop her.

She sighs and steps away from him, pacing across the room.

"It's such a relief!" Emily exclaims. "All this time I was wondering when it would happen, when he would come after me and now… It has happened. All bets are off, but anything is better than this life on hold. And wasn't it great how everyone tried to be polite and professional when I told them about Ian and me when they were secretly judging me. At least some of them."

There it is again. Ian. She probably thought her past was a scar when it suddenly feels like a fresh wound again. Hence the tirade.

"I'm sure no one judged you."

"Oh, Aaron! What is it with you? You're always so uptight, never showing any emotion. Don't you feel anything? At least sometimes?"

Emily stops her pacing right in front of him, standing so close that he can smell the alcohol in her breath. This is it. If he doesn't stop her…

She kisses him. There is a slight hint of hesitation but once she realizes he doesn't reject her, the kiss becomes hungry, passionate. Exactly the way he imagined she would kiss. And yet...

"We shouldn't do this." Finally Hotch comes back to his senses when they have to gasp for air.

"Maybe that's why it feels so good," she breathes.

He can't help but think of her and Doyle. Was that part of the reason why she agreed to that assignment? Because things you shouldn't do feel so good?

Emily looks at him, searching for something in his eyes and eventually takes a step back. His body immediately misses her warmth.

"Sorry," she says although she doesn't sound as if she means it.

"Emily, wait." Hotch catches her wrist. "It's not that I don't want it. I just think this is not the right moment."

She snorts. "Then what is? When I'm dead? When Doyle found and killed me? There are no right moments, Aaron. You of all people should know that. There are just moments. Either you make use of them or you let them pass."

They shared their stories that night that feels like a lifetime ago. She told him about Doyle; he told her about Foyet. There is a bond, a mutual understanding between them that goes beyond anything he has ever experienced. Her words strike a nerve. This is still wrong, but she is right and…

This time Hotch kisses her. She is surprised, he can tell by the way it takes her a moment to adjust to his newly found brazenness when he pulls her towards him. Then she relaxes in his arms. The kiss is not as frantic as their first one. They take their time. And when Hotch leans back, looking at Emily, he knows there is no way around what is going to happen.

Over at the BAU, the team calls it a day.

Reid puts the package with the shreds of paper away. "I can't believe I'm not able to solve this."

"Do something you normally don't do. That will clear your head," Garcia advises him. "When I'm stuck thinking about something, I clean up my apartment as tidily as I never usually do."

Reid nods. Something he normally doesn't do. Answering that question alone is difficult since there is no normal when it comes to him. His life is always the exception. He sighs. There is no use. He has to sleep eventually.

He turns off the lights and goes home.

"Morning," Emily smiles at him when Hotch opens his eyes.

"Morning." This should be awkward, but for some reason it isn't. It feels good and right to be here with her.

"I didn't know what you want for breakfast. I usually call the shop across the street and have them deliver some coffee. But if you want something else..."

"No, coffee is fine."

"Ok." Emily gets out of bed and for a brief, much too short moment Hotch is able to appreciate her naked body. It all happened so fast last night.

"I'll take a shower." It's either this and get back to work or pull her back in bed and forget about the rest, but considering there is at least one maniac out there wanting to kill her, the latter is no option. Unfortunately.

"You're early again!" This time it's Morgan greeting Reid.

"Yes." Reid is not even looking at Morgan, fixated on the package with the shreds of paper. Morgan isn't surprised. This is how Reid behaves when he is trying to figure something out.

Reid hoped some hours of sleep would clear his mind. As it turns out, they haven't. He still has no clue of the meaning of the package and its content. Do something you don't normally do, he remembers Garcia's words. Reid takes the package and throws it across the room. The shreds of paper fall out and swirl through the air. It's as if he is standing in a snow storm. Reid watches the snippets fall on the floor one after the other, question mark after question mark until...

He picks one of the shreds up and frowns.

Aaron's phone rings when he is taking a shower. Emily sees the name on the display. Spencer Reid calling. She usually would never answer someone else's phone, but this is the BAU calling. They could have urgent news regarding Doyle and when it comes to Doyle, every second counts.

"This is Emily Prentiss speaking."

There is a brief moment of surprise. Then, "This is Spencer Reid. Could I talk to Aaron Hotchner, please?"

"He is..." taking a shower to wash the scent of sex and sweat off his skin "...tied up at the moment. Can I deliver a message to him? I saw your name on the display and thought it might be urgent."

"Um… yeah, sure," Reid agrees after some hesitation. Why wouldn't he? She is Aaron's client, was at the BAU in person yesterday. In the end, every information Aaron Hotchner receives about the case, she receives, too.

"We have an address. It was on one of the shreds of paper. Some of them had an exclamation mark instead of a question mark and there was an address written on them so small you could only read it with a magnifying glass." He sounds excited and proud that he finally found out what was the deal with the mysterious package.

"Give me the address. I'll tell Aaron."

Again, Reid hesitates only briefly before he gives her the details. This is way too easy, Emily thinks as she writes it down. All this effort and then whoever is behind it will wait for them at the address to let them arrest him? No way!

"Emily?"

When Hotch comes out of the shower, Emily is not in the bedroom anymore. He is not worried until he discovers that she is also not in the living room or kitchen.

"Emily?" Louder this time. Her apartment is spacious; maybe there are corners he knows nothing about yet. But she still doesn't answer.

This is ridiculous. She can't be gone. The silence in the apartment is beginning to give him a queasy feeling though. Hotch checks his phone. No text messages, no missed calls. She probably went to the shop across the street to get their breakfast coffee instead of having it delivered. It's careless; she shouldn't do that, but the idea that she was too impatient to wait for it makes him smile. It's their first breakfast together, after all.

He might as well use her absence to let the BAU bring him up to date. Morgan immediately answers his phone when Hotch calls him.

"Hotch, did Emily tell you about our new lead? We are on our way."

As Hotch listens to Morgan telling him about Reid's finding and phone call with Emily, he checks the apartment another time, only now noticing that her safe is wide open. I have a gun. I will protect myself. This can't be happening, and yet, knowing her, it makes sense. Emily believes it's Ian Doyle who is after her. A shadow from her past. An old score she wants to settle herself. The open safe is her message to him.

"Give me the address, I'll meet you there."

Emily has a slight advantage. All he can hope is that they won't arrive too late.

To be continued