AN: Hi guys. c: Don't forget to show the review button a little love... he's heartbroken over Emily's departure!

"You couldn't erase the past. You couldn't even change it. But sometimes life offered you the opportunity to put it right."-Ann Brashares

Even as Emily was distancing herself from the team, both emotionally and physically, Hotch was pacing back and forth, worried that Emily would slip too far away before he was able to find a lead. Like she had promised, her cell phone, credit cards, and anything that could be tracked had been left in a neat pile on her nightstand. Her bank accounts had been drained from a bank just outside Quantico, but it didn't give any direction of where Emily was going. Garcia had given a futile effort to find the GPS in her car, but when they did find it, it was in a dumpster alongside the road. They had tried to find if she had bought any other cell phones in her name or in an alias, but they found no luck. Hotch was rapidly running out of hope, but he only had one option left.

He openly disliked Emily's mother. Ambassador Prentiss had often openly treated her daughter with disdain for not choosing to follow in her footsteps, despite the fact that Emily had become one of the BAU's best. It was true that the strict Ambassador had been his employer at one time, but there was no affection between them. The likelihood of Emily calling her mother for help, if calling her mother at all, was minimal, but it was his only hope. Even if Emily hadn't contacted the Ambassador, she was sure to know where to start looking for her beautiful daughter.

For a moment, Hotch found himself debating whether or not the call to Elizabeth was worth the imminent earful he would receive for disturbing her precious schedule. But then the idea struck him. Urgently, he pulled his cell from his pocket, calling Garcia. When she picked up, he took no time for greetings.

"Garcia, I need you to look and find any calls to Ambassador Prentiss that weren't from her current country, either burnout cells or payphones." Hotch said quickly.

"Bossman, do you really think that our petite brunette would call to her mother for assistance?" Garcia asked, but still reached for her laptop.

"Just do it, Garcia. Please." Hotch said. "And while you're at it, find all the homes under Ambassador Prentiss' name here in the states."

"On it, lover boy." Garcia chirped. "I'll call back in a few." she hung up, and Hotch shook his head at the antics of the Technical Analyst. He had never been close with Garcia, but her cheerfulness was oftentimes contagious, and it was easy to see why she had been Emily's best friend.

The tense waiting period slipped by, full of memories of happy times between him and Emily, him and Jack, of all three of them. As he flipped open the work phone, he was caught by the background. It was a photo of Emily and his smiling son. Emily had been pushing Jack on the swing, and both of them had blindingly happy smiles on their faces. As he had taken the photo, he had caught Emily midlaugh. When she left, he had set it as the background on his phone, choosing to keep it as one of the happy memories of his time with Emily, time he hoped would continue once they found her.

When the phone rang, Hotch eagerly answered it. "Talk to me, Garcia." he ordered, suddenly tense. What if he had been wrong?

"Good news, bossman." Garcia chirped. "There were three calls to our older Prentiss, all made from US burnout cells. Two of them were used regularly by telemarketers, but our third cell was purchased here in Virginia after our last case, paid for in cash."

"Is there any proof that it was actually her that paid for it, and not another telemarketer?" Hotch asked, wanting to make sure that it was really and truly a lead on Emily.

Garcia tisked. "You doubt me, sir." she said. "Tracking the cell, I found out it was bought at a local gas station. I was able to hack into their security tapes and look at who bought the phone, and sure enough, although the photo was grainy, it certainly looked much like our Emily. I tried to track the burn cell, but it was destroyed along Interstate 66."

"Alright." Hotch said with a sigh. "Thanks for the help, Garcia." He went to hang up, but was cut off once more by the smug tones of his Techincal Analyst.

"Aah, wait, there's more." Garcia chirped. "I checked into the homes owned by our Ambassador, and while she does own quite a few, many are actually inhabited by other political figures. So, I assumed that our dear Emily, knowing her so well, would want to avoid any political drama. So, I narrowed it down to six homes."

"Where?" Hotch asked abruptly, standing up. "I'll get our team going."

"Washington, South Dakota, California, Wisconsin, DC, and Florida." Garcia answered.

"I need the team at the conference room in ten." Hotch said. "I'm sending one of us to each home, we;ll talk to whoever's there and see if we can find any leads."

"Yessir." Garcia chirped, hanging up.

Hotch sat there for a moment, unable to fight the grin that erupted on his face. He might just get Emily back.