Emily cancelled brunch with Penelope the next morning, and instead asked her to drop Ava off with Elizabeth and then come to the house. Hotch invited the others. The others all knew why they were being asked to come over, but Penelope still just thought that she and Emily were just going to have lunch. So when she walked into the house and immediately spotted Morgan, Reid and JJ sitting on the sofa, looking like naughty children, her face fell and she let out a little squeak of surprise.

"Uh...are we having group breakfast?" She asked Emily, giving her a hopefully pleading look.

Emily pushed the door closed behind her, shaking her head, her dark hair pulled up in a pony tail. "No. No, we are not. We need to have a talk with you guys about boundaries."

Hotch was leaning near the fireplace, with his arms folded across his chest. "And before anyone asks where Dave is," He looked pointedly at Reid, who had just opened his mouth and who now closed it slowly, and settled back into the couch cushions. "He's the only one we can trust to not have been involved in this. Are we wrong?"

"No, you're not wrong." JJ admitted.

Emily was standing behind the sofa, her hands in the front pockets of her jeans, watching Hotch stare down her team mates. Garcia slowly walked to the armchair in the bay window and sat down, setting her handbag down on the floor and glanced at the others on the sofa, all of whom were still looking very awkward. She almost felt bad for them, since they were being subjected to Hotch's famous stare down that he usually reserved for criminals they tracked down. She understood their intentions, but it was time they set out some boundaries within their little group. It would be a difficult conversation to have; after fifteen years of living in each others pockets, of being each others family, asking them to take a step back now would be a big adjustment but it was also something she and Hotch needed. Their divorce was not something to be discussed and negotiated within the family; the divorce was between the two of them and it had to stay that way.

"You organised for both Rawson and Beth to not show up. Yes or no?"

"Yes." The four said in unison.

"Guys," Emily sighed and walked around the sofa to sit on the remaining armchair, opposite Penelope, "We're adults. We're government officials. We are not teenagers in high school who can meddle in each others love lives. This," She glanced at Hotch, who was looking stern as ever, "is a difficult enough time for us. We can't fight you, too."

He didn't miss the use of the intensifier. They weren't fighting, at least not anymore, but sometimes Emily felt like they were. The separation felt like she was fighting something every day; fighting her urges to break down, fighting the urge to run back to him, fighting the urge to ask why he didn't fight her when she told him she wanted a separation.

"We know we overstepped," JJ said, leaning back on the sofa next to Reid, who was staring at his hands on his lap, "But we're finding it difficult to see the two of you apart because we know you're hurting."

"JJ, you and Penelope encouraged me to go on a date with Mick." Emily pointed out, her brow furrowed in confusion. She was picking at her nails.

"You did?" There was a look of something in Hotch's eyes as he glanced between JJ and Penelope. Something like betrayal. It broke Penelope's heart and she felt tears spring to her eyes and tried to blink them away, hoping her large, horn-rimmed glasses would at least partially obscure her outburst of emotion.

"Because you're miserable, E." Penelope was trying to defend the actions of herself and JJ. Emily looked affronted.

"I am not miserable, I'm adjusting."

"You're not sad?" Hotch looked slightly more hurt. Emily felt as though each revelation was chipping slowly away at him.

She shook her head at him. "Don't be ridiculous, I didn't say that. Of course I'm sad. Don't you think that is a conversation for another time? A conversation to have in private, maybe?"

He gave a stiff nod and turned his eyes to the carpet.

Morgan and Spencer hadn't spoken this whole time. Spencer looked like Ava did sometimes when she spoke about the divorce; like a child torn between two parents and struggling to understand. Morgan didn't quite look angry; Emily would have had something to say if he did look angry over this. But no, it wasn't anger in his eyes, it was something else. Something like frustration or confusion. He looked like he had in California, when he couldn't understand why the two of them couldn't make it work. In some ways, Morgan was the one who needed to take the longest stride backwards and give them the most space, because although both Hotch and Emily were fairly certain that Penelope had been the pointer guy for their little plan, Morgan was the most likely to voice his own personal opinions about the divorce.

"We understand the need for boundaries, the difference between the family and your marriage," Morgan began, in a very diplomatic way that Emily was a little surprised with, "But I don't think the two of you understand what your divorce is doing to the rest of us. Maybe that is selfish, and we're sorry if it is, and guys stop me if I'm putting words in your mouths, but we can't be around each other and feel awkward. And even more importantly, we can't do our jobs if there is tension."

"There isn't." Hotch cut across him, "It has been three months, a quarter of a year, and we have solved several cases in that time, successfully and with no more time needed than the average. At the end of the day, if you're finding it difficult to work because of the divorce, that is down to your own personal issues, and has nothing to do with what is going on between Emily and myself."

Morgan said nothing more, he just nodded and sat back on the sofa. There seemed to be nothing left to say. Spencer hadn't said a word, which was unusual. Emily asked if anyone wanted to stay for breakfast, but it was a unanimous and resounding 'no' from the room. She saw them all out and as Spencer passed her to leave, he turned. There was only Emily, Hotch and himself left in the room.

"Do you remember the fact I told you on your wedding day, that you rolled your eyes at and chastised me for?" Both shook their heads. Spencer smiled slightly, but it was a sad smile. "I told you that about 40 to 50 percent of married couples in the United States get divorced, and that the divorce rate for subsequent marriages is even higher."

Then he turned and left, leaving them with that eerie little bit of trivia from their past. Once again, they were alone, and Emily was painfully aware of it.

She looked at Hotch, who was slowly edging towards the door. "Um, are you sure you don't want any breakfast? There's fruit, muesli, anything really."

She offered, all the while hoping, and knowing, he would say no. As she had known he would, he graciously declined her offer. He smiled and nodded at her, but made no attempt to say goodbye in any affectionate way. She closed the door behind him and leaned her forehead against the frosted glass window.

"Morgan is right," Hotch thought to himself, descending the steps and walking slowly towards his car, "It is awkward."

The following day at the BAU, they all entered the round room and sat in silence for a moment, waiting for Hotch to introduce the case. Rossi came in last, the wall of silence hitting him like a frying pan to the face. He warily walked around the table to the available seat between Emily and Morgan, and sat down.

"Good morning to you all, too."

There was a low, unenthusiastic murmur of greeting around the table.

"Was there a party last night that I didn't know about? Because the only time this room is this quiet is when people are hungover."

A few of them shook their heads. Penelope perked up and spoke. "Everything is fine, Rossi."

It was then that Hotch walked in, holding a thick case file. That was never a good sign; a thick case file tended to mean a lot of victims. Hotch went on to explain that this case was one that went back about four and a half years; in that time there had been five missing women reports that had not been connected until now. The only reason that the Dallas police force had connected the reports now was because each of the reports had been filed at least ten months apart, with the fifth and most recent having been filed only earlier that week.

"Victimology is specific; Caucasian brunette's in their thirties." Spencer noted. Hotch glanced across the table at Emily, but she missed it; she was reading the file in front of her and trying to pick up on any information that could lead her towards evidence.

"It's an incredibly patient timeline, we should investigate the surrounding cities maybe and see if any of the missing persons reported there fit the victimology, and also fit into the time between the Dallas reports."

"I'm on it." Garcia was already tapping away on her laptop.

"Great, everybody grab their go-bags, wheels up in 30."