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a/n here's the next chapter. As always, many thanks to all my loyal reader, reviewers and those who've add this to your favorites and alert. You guys rock. Please enjoy.

Thoughts and Plans

Morgan rounded the corner to his neighborhood with Clooney at his side. The dog ran without panting, but Morgan's breath hissed in and out. He'd pushed himself harder than he ever had, running three miles over his self-imposed limit because he couldn't get Emily out of his head. All he could see in his mind's eye was his friend lying on the concrete floor of a filthy warehouse with that damn wooden stake sticking out of her abdomen. If he had known then what he knew now… but it was, just useless speculation to think about the "what if's" in life.

Clooney chuffed beside him as they passed the middle of the block where his friend Thumper lived with his human Scott Varney.

"No… You can't go play with Thumper. We don't have time tonight. It's dinner time anyway."

In truth, Morgan wasn't in the mood for Scott Varney's unfailing cheerfulness about everything. It got on his nerves because he believed that no one could be that happy all the time. There had to be something wrong with the man. The strange thing was that Varney's wife Miranda was just as happy all the time. It reminded him of that movie, "The Stepford Wives."

Clooney whined.

"Come on boy," Morgan huffed. "We need to go home and I need to decide what I'm going to do."

He'd slowed to a slow trot, trying to get his heart rate back down again. His side ached and he could taste the metallic flavor of blood in the back of his throat. He'd run too hard, but hadn't been able to stop as confusion and anger raged in his head.

Clooney followed him into the house. The dog went to his water dish and whined. Morgan filled the dish then limped over to the fridge for a bottle of water. He chugged it down much faster than he should have and it roiled in his stomach.

His mutt lapped up half the water, then shook his head from side to side. His ears flapped and water flew hitting the cabinets and the floor. Morgan went to his canine friend and bent to scratch behind his left ear. "Thanks for the run buddy. I ran us both too hard but you don't seem to mind at all."

Clooney chuffed, barked and licked at Morgan's hands.

"You forgive me for anything, even if I don't deserve it."

He went to his room, stripped off his dark blue tee shirt, and threw it in the hamper. "Human's aren't as good at forgiving boy. I can't decide if that's a good thing or not."

He removed the rest of his workout clothes and headed into the bathroom. He turned on the water to a temperature that began working the stiffness out of his muscles. It was much warmer than he liked, but it also kept his mind off Emily's return for a few minutes.

Clooney was waiting outside the door when he exited with a light blue towel around his waist. "I'm okay buddy. I promise. I just have to decide what to do."

The dog preceded him into his bedroom. Morgan changed into jeans and a dark blue polo. Clooney nudged him with his head when Morgan just stood there staring at the wall over his dresser.

"Sorry boy… I'm just trying not to punch a hole in the wall. I don't want a broken hand."

Clooney stared up and him and whined.

"Don't worry boy. I'll figure it out."

He went back to the kitchen for a beer. Clooney needed something to eat as well. His stomach growled, but he didn't feel like eating anything.

He left the dog in the kitchen and took the beer to his living room. He sat down, then stood up again and began to pace. He wanted to loose control and give Hotch, JJ and Emily a piece of his mind. How dare they do this to the team? Where was the trust? They'd worked together for four years. Was it wrong to think that the time together demanded a certain trust?

He sighed and rubbed his hands over his baldhead. If he were honest, he'd admit that most of the conflict in his gut didn't come from his anger over Emily's actions. She'd left them floundering around until Ian had almost killed her and then she went off on her own to deal with him.

A smile overtook his irritated expression because if anyone could deal with Ian Doyle, it was Emily Prentiss. Now one of the worst terrorists in the world and his cronies were dead. He was happy about that because the world was a safer place.

Clooney padded over and put his head in Morgan's lap. "What it comes down to," he said to the mutt. "Is that Hotch and JJ did the same thing I did to my Auntie. I lied to her about Cindy, about my own cousin, because hope for the day when we'd finally find her dead or alive, was killing her. I took the chance to free her from that. How can I say that what Hotch did was so wrong? He protected us and he gave Prentiss what she needed to take Doyle down, finally.

Clooney whined softly as Derek massaged his head. "So… What do you think Clooney? What do I do?"

Clooney pulled his head away from Morgan and lay down at his feet. "You could be right. Maybe getting some rest is the best thing right now."

His phone began to play a tune that made him smile, as he moved from the couch to his favorite easy chair.

"Hey Baby Girl," He rumbled happily into the receiver.

"How did you know it was me?"

"You've got your own special ring tone, sweetness."

"Really, what is it?"

"Oh no, you don't get to know."

"Why not?"

"A man has to have his secrets."

"I think it's the woman that's supposed to be mysterious in a relationship."

He smiled broadly at her flirtatious tone. It was innocent and full of promise all at the same time.

"Did you call just to get my blood hot?" He demanded cheerfully.

"I called because I thought maybe you could use some company."

"If it's you, then most definitely," He assured her.

"Good… I'll be there in half an hour with pizza and beer."

"What about Violet?"

"She's at a sleepover with a friend from school. I didn't want her to go, but Mary told me that letting her return to normal activities with her friends is important."

"I agree mama. She's a good kid. Don't worry so much."

"I can't help it. Even though it's only been a couple of weeks, I love her like she's my own."

Morgan smiled again. "She is your own. You're the most caring, giving and loving person I know. It's why I love you."

"I love you too Derek."

"You better."

She laughed. "I'm on my way."

He slapped his phone shut and reached down to pet the dog. "Garcia is coming over buddy. We better tidy up the place a little."

It was amazing how just the thought of Garcia in his place immediately lifted his mood. He'd talk to her about the mess at work and together they'd figure out how they'd handle the fracture in their family.

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Emily curled up in a rocking chair in JJ's guest room. She pulled her phone from her pocket and switched it on. It was a brand new cell phone with a new number. It wouldn't come up on his caller ID with her name. Perhaps if she called him, he'd answer not knowing it was she and she could talk to him. She looked at the phone for a long time then slid it closed and held on to it like a life preserver.

She was very good at hiding her feelings. Her skill at compartmentalizing wasn't something that came from working at Interpol. Working as an agent for Interpol had enhanced those skills, but they really came from life growing up with diplomats for parents. She'd learned early on to pretend that nothing bothered her, that she didn't care about the constant moves to countries and cultures that she didn't understand. It was harder as a teenager to hide her feelings, but eventually she'd trained herself to stay on constant guard. Until she met him…

Working at the BAU was supposed to be a step up in her career. She never thought it would lead her to the greatest enigma in her life. The day she met him, she never thought he'd turn out to be the puzzle she couldn't figure out.

She opened the phone again. She should just call him and apologize. She'd gladly take any recriminations he had for her, just to hear his voice and see his face. Her fingers began dialing the number, but she stopped after the first three. If she called him, it would be a cop out. It was easy to talk to someone if you didn't have to face him or her. It was the coward's way and he deserved better than that.

There was only one thing to do.

CMCMCM

When Emily stood in front of Reid's door, she did so with shaking hands and a stuttering heart. Her mouth had gone dry. She suddenly thought she should have called him first instead of showing up. She straightened her shoulders and reached out to ring the bell. She thought she could hear the buzz, but it was probably her imagination. The seconds passed like honey pouring from a jar.

He didn't answer. She looked up at the peephole. Was he behind it looking out at her? She knocked instead of using the buzzer and waited. She wanted to shift her feet, but she made them stay still.

What was taking so long? She'd never known him to take so long to answer the door.

How do you know? You've only been here once before to pick him up for one of your foreign movie showings. Maybe he has a date. Did you ever think about that?

She decided to knock again a little louder and longer. She successfully resisted the urge to yell at him through the door or call him. He obviously wasn't home and she found that fact didn't sit well with her at all.

You're not his keeper and after what you did…

She shut down that thought as she walked away from his door. It appeared that the most difficult part of her coming back to her old life was about to get more difficult.