Hotch and Emily arrived back in Virginia before two that afternoon. First thing they did was check into another 'cash-only' hotel. The kind where street people went to cash their welfare checks and smart people avoided at all costs. It was even more disgusting than the first place they'd stayed, but Emily said nothing. But damn, did she long for her own place, with its perfect temperature control, and it's nice, soft, warm bed. That's what she missed the most, both during this adventure and when on away-cases. Her bed. God, she missed her bed. And it was only about sixty miles away.

At this point they didn't have any clue exactly how long they'd be on the run, how long they'd need money, and after the purchase of the Buick, they'd agreed to go conservatively with their money. She'd started with around three thousand, counting the five hundred from Garcia's credit card. Hotch had had a little over six hundred dollars. Between the car, food, gas, and lodging they'd spent a good grand of that money.

They had two grand to last them however long this fiasco lasted.

So they'd stay in run-down dumps if necessary.

Emily tried not to look at the single full-sized bed that stood prominent in the room. Yes, she'd been sharing a bed with him for the last several nights, but tonight would be different. Tonight, she'd be sleeping beside a man she was beginning to have feelings for. Sexual feelings, feelings she was pretty certain she didn't want to have. Not for him. Not now…not…ever.

Not to mention that the waiting for this whole fiasco to come to a head was driving her insane. Emily always took action. Hadn't she defied Strauss? Hadn't she challenged Hotch when he'd showed up at her apartment that time? Hadn't she confronted Reid about his drug addiction?

No, Emily wasn't afraid to face adversity, and even though this technically wasn't her adversity to face, inaction drove her nuts. And she knew it was just as bad for the man currently walking back to the Buick.

He'd not let her go in the motel's office, arguing that the less they were seen together, the less the people on his tail would connect them. It was his lug-headed way of trying to protect her. It was just how Hotch was. She'd learned that in the last several days; he was always considerate of her needs. Always.

He'd probably be the same way in bed. But she refused to let herself think of that. Was absolutely, beyond a shadow of a doubt, no buts about it—not going to think about it.

It didn't matter if he did look really good in a pair of black slacks and dark t-shirt Stella had loaned him. She said it was her boss's, and Emily wondered briefly if the man looked even half as good in them as Hotch did?

She mentally shook herself again. She was not going to have those thoughts. She wasn't.

HOTCHANDEMILYHOTCHANDEMILY

Hotch was hot, tired, and irritated. And not necessarily in that order. He could tell the whole thing was getting to his companion, as well. She'd alternated between sighing and glaring every five minutes.

They just flat out weren't used to this. Something was going to have to happen soon, or they'd both go insane.

And he didn't just mean between them.

Although he was determined that would be…settled…soon, as well. The harsh light of day hadn't changed his opinion on that at all. He wanted her even when she was sweaty and irritable. It showed a human side of her that fascinated him. He wondered why he'd missed it before. Had he just not let himself look? Or had she hid herself from him that well?

He'd find the answers to his questions one way or another. Hotch was nothing if not a determined man. In the meantime, they had to find Corriden, and Ceci. Had to reconnect with the team, find out what the Bureau had managed to gather in the last few days. They had to simply move forward. Somehow.

But Hotch wasn't ready to move forward. Not yet. Not if it meant the end of this…thing…with Emily. He hadn't felt this alive in more years than he cared to admit.

"What are we going to do first?" She asked, dropping her bag on the loan chair that sat forlornly by the window. Hotch had seen abandoned houses that looked more put together than this place. Once again he felt a rush of shame for bringing someone like her to a dump like this. "Find Hillenbrand or Corriden?"

"First, we're going to wait. Make sure we weren't followed. You'll need to somehow contact Det. Boneserra. And we need to rendezvous with Dave and the others. Get an update on that end of things." Hotch dropped his bag beside hers. "Can you contact Garcia through the social networking sites? See if we can make another secure connection?"

"Of course," Emily said, her hands going straight for her messenger bag.

HOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILY

They'd all powwowed at the ambassador's—including baby Henry, Will, Jack, Kevin, and Hayley. Not to mention Dave, Derek, and Det. Boneserra. The ambassador had an excellent security staff, plus room to house that many unexpected guests.

She'd handled their sudden arrival with much aplomb and a demeanor not unlike her daughter's. Still, the woman had been disconcerted, and when the situation had been fully explained to her, only a touch of worry had passed through her brown eyes. Eyes like her daughter's.

"So what are you doing to find my daughter and Agent Hotchner?" the Ambassador had asked, after greeting Detective Boneserra. It was obvious they'd met before. "Beforesomeone else does?"

"Honestly, Ambassador Prentiss, at this point we're up in arms. The only thing we can do…is wait for them to come to us." Dave sank into the black leather sofa as he accepted a Scotch from the woman. "We can't find them." He shot a meaningful glance at the police detective seated across from him. She merely rose a brow in challenge, never saying a word. He continued. "And we've looked. Detective Boneserra was the most likely possibility. And since she called and told them to book it, they've gone completely underground."

"But isn't it your job to find people who don't want to be found?" Hayley asked. No one was lost to how uncomfortable she'd looked the entire time she'd been there. "So why can't you find Aaron? And Agent Prentiss? Why can't you find the people after them?"

"We will. But you have to understand—everything we think to do, Aaron and Emily are going to think of, as well. That means they can effectively counter it. And considering it's the two of them together, I'm surprised we've tracked them as far as we did. Those two are good. Damned good. Probably the best profilers I've ever seen, and now that they seem to have finally started working in tandem, we won't find them. At least not until they're ready to be found." Dave said.

"Which is good," Derek said, "Because it means that whomever caught Hotch the first time, probably won't catch him again."

"Unless…" JJ rocked Henry as she spoke. "Unless Hotch and Em decide to take the offensive."

"Would they do that?" Detective Boneserra asked, her worry clear in voice. "Would Em really confront the Irish mob? What am I saying…of course Emily would."

The detective and the ambassador shared a memory filled look that had the rest of the room's occupants tensing. Dave was the one to speak. "Would she?"

Her mother answered. "Yes. If she felt there wasn't any other option. The question is what would Agent Hotchner do?"

"That's what we're going to have to determine." Derek said. No one missed the grim tone. "Before they get into even deeper trouble than what they are already in."

"Because I somehow doubt they know exactly what we know." Dave said, tapping the file in his hand against the ambassador's fine mahogany coffee table. The file that Garcia and Kevin had gathered while he and Derek were on the road. It wasn't good, and it made it doubly imperative that they find Hotch and Emily quickly.

Hayley was the one to voice the question on half the room's minds. "So what exactly is it that we do know?"