Chapter 4: Honor Among Thieves

Elizabeth turned as Emily made her way out of the bullpen, heading to their technical analyst's office to run through the directions provided by her contact at the bank. She could only hope that the information could get them the lead they needed. It had been such a long time since she had felt useful, and she felt like this might even help her and Emily to heal some of the fractures in their relationship. Those fractures ran deep, but over time they had started to work on that. Zac had definitely served as a conduit, but there was only so much pressure that could be placed on him. But this case seemed to be helping to bring them back together.

Nothing mends bridges between family members like watching other people lose theirs.

"Ambassador Prentiss."

Elizabeth turned and found Agent Hotchner standing a few feet away, watching her with a concerned look on his face.

"Agent Hotchner," Elizabeth responded softly, "One of my contacts came through, and I just gave the instructions to Emily."

"Thank you, ma'am," Hotch replied, "I should go and check in with the others..." he paused, interpreting her strong hold on her purse and her usual workaholic nature, "Would you like to wait here until we get more information?"

Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders, "Actually, I have some work I need to get done… if you have somewhere quiet that I can work."

Hotch nodded and tipped his head in the direction of his office, "I'm not using my office right now, and at least it's private... you can work in there."

"Thank you, Agent Hotchner," Elizabeth replied, "I appreciate it."

Hotch led the way, gesturing to his desk, "You can use the desk or the coffee table. Help yourself to any stationery you might need. I'll be back after I've checked in with the others."

Elizabeth took a seat at the coffee table, dropping into the lounge by the window, watching while Hotch grabbed a file from the desk before he turned back. Elizabeth opened up her day-planner and laptop, and Hotch stopped in his tracks, looking down at the table and seeing the screensaver on Elizabeth's laptop. He tried to be inconspicuous as he took in the image, waiting to get a better look until Elizabeth was looking back down at her notebook.

It was one of those professional portraits of the Prentiss family. Emily, sitting on an antique settee, flanked on either side by her parents. And in her lap, a small boy. The boy looked to be about three years old, with dark hair and dark eyes. He couldn't remember the Ambassador having a son… so who was the boy?

Hotch cleared his throat and looked up from the laptop, heading towards the door and closing it softly behind him.

As he made his way down the stairs he let the thought flutter through his mind.

That photo - it was stuck in his brain. He knew the Prentiss family when they were back in DC, but he couldn't remember seeing a small boy running around the house. Hotch stopped for a moment and ran the photo through his mind's eye and he frowned. The settee... the artwork on the wall... even the pant-suit that Ambassador Prentiss had been wearing in the photo.

He was there that day!

Shortly before that photo was taken, he had been in Ambassador Prentiss' study, where she had been showing him the floorplans of the family's home on Martha's Vineyard so that he could point out potential security blind-spots. He remembered her assistant coming into the room and fixing her make-up while he questioned her about vendors that typically worked at the house, and the Ambassador had never missed a beat in her responses. When Hotch had asked her what was going on, she explained that her daughter was getting ready to head back to Yale for her second year and they wanted to take a family portrait before she left.

Hotch shook his head - the girl on the ladder, that was her. That was Emily. She'd almost fallen off the ladder that day, getting a book from her parent's library. In the photo on Ambassador Prentiss' laptop, she was wearing a red dress, but in the library she'd been in jeans and a t-shirt. She was only young, and Hotch couldn't imagine a world in which Emily Prentiss had a child, let alone had a child when she was a teenager. And as the security advisor, Hotch certainly would have known if the Ambassador had a young son living in the house. So who was the little boy?

Hotch shook his head again, realising that while he was trying to unearth some new sliver of information about Prentiss, a man was getting cut into pieces.

Priorities, Aaron.

Hotch huffed to himself and pushed through the glass doors.

Emily looked up when she heard the door of Garcia's lair opening, and saw Hotch walking into the room. He offered a strained smile, and Emily frowned.

"Everything ok?" she asked as Hotch stopped next to her, behind Garcia sitting at her desk.

"Your mother's in my office, getting some work done."

"Oh my god, Hotch," Emily replied, "I'm so sorry."

Hotch shook his head and nodded towards the computer monitors, "Forget about it," Hotch replied, "How are things going in here?"

"Things are going like gangbusters Superior G-Man," Garcia replied.

Hotch raised his eyebrow and looked at Emily, who shrugged in response, "I think it's something to do with Reid," Emily replied.

"And we're in," Garcia interjected, "I have a name for the account holder."

"Garcia, you are a genius," Emily remarked, squeezing her friend's shoulders.

"Tell me something I don't know," Garcia responded, tapping away at the keyboard.

Hotch snorted and exchanged a smile with Emily, and when Emily looked back at the screen, Hotch continued to watch Emily, furrowing his brow as he wondered if he knew anything about his newest agent.

"I'll go and grab my purse, if you want to call Zac and find out if he would like to join us," Elizabeth explained.

Emily nodded and turned away from her mother to make the call. As the phone rang in her ear, she finally let out the breath she'd been holding all day, ever since her mother had shown up at the office with two Russian ex-pats and a dismembered finger. Emily shook the thought from her head when she heard the click.

"Hi Mom," Zac said brightly, "What's going on?"

"Hey sweetheart," Emily started, "I'm at your grandmother's house and she wants to take us out for dinner. Can you meet us at Obelisk in about twenty minutes?"

"Absolutely – if Grams is paying for a five-star meal, who am I to say no?"

Emily laughed into the phone, "Ok, we'll meet you there… dress appropriately, please."

"So that means pants right?"

"Zachery," Emily warned, with the combination of tone and using his full name to drive the message home.

"Sorry Mother," Zac replied dryly.

Emily rolled her eyes and hung up the call, looking up when she heard her mother's footsteps over the tiles.

"You ready to go?" Elizabeth asked, and Emily nodded, the two women heading towards the front door.

"Thank you for your help today, Mother," Emily remarked, reaching over to squeeze her mother's shoulder.

Elizabeth looked up and offered Emily a gentle smile, "Of course Em," Elizabeth replied, "It was nice to help out... and to spend time with you."

"We spend time together, Mother," Emily retorted.

Elizabeth reached over to place a hand on Emily's shoulder, both women stepping through the front door of the house in unison. As it closed behind them, Elizabeth turned to Emily and tipped her head, "We do spend time together, Em. It would just be nice to see you outside of the holiday season."

"Mother, you know my job doesn't really allow for a lot of free time," Emily replied as they climbed into the town car, "Besides which, this is the first time for a long time that you and Dad have sat still."

"Well we're still now," Elizabeth said quietly, "And it would be nice, especially before Zac graduates and takes off to God only knows where, if we could spend some more time together as a family."

Emily shrugged and offered her mother a friendly smile, "Well... we're having dinner tonight... that's a step right?"

Elizabeth nodded and reached over to squeeze her daughter's hand, "You're right... it's a step."

Hotch shook hands with his friend, standing from the table and making his way out of the restaurant, onto the sidewalk and heading back down the street towards the parking garage where he'd left his car. It was his annual dinner with his roommate from law school, and he always looked forward to these dinners. It made him remember where he started and how far they'd all come.

As he walked down the street, his thoughts went back to the events of the last couple of days. That case – the daughter's role in her own father's kidnapping and dismemberment; the Chernus' losing the last of their children; the money and the fingers… all of it. He shuddered instinctively, wondering what would allow a daughter to take such steps against her parents. Parents who had already lost so much.

And as much as he didn't want to think about it, Hotch couldn't help but let his mind wander to that photo. The photo on the Ambassador's laptop. Hotch was wracking his brain, trying to figure out who the boy was in the photo. He had already deduced that it was extremely unlikely that the boy was Emily's child, nor did he think the Ambassador and her husband had decided to have a second child so many years later. All of the other possible scenarios tracked through Hotch's mind: another relative, like a cousin or a nephew; maybe the son of a friend whom the family had taken in... all manner of possibilities. Maybe he'd never know.

What Hotch did know was that he could never ask Emily about it. If he'd learnt anything in the months that she'd been with the unit, it was that Emily Prentiss was an intensely private person. And family was a very sensitive subject for her - to ask her any questions about her mother would likely result in an overly polite and extremely excessive use of "sir" in subsequent interactions. Either that or she'd pin him to the ground, shove his tie in his mouth and tell him to never talk about her family ever again.

And Hotch knew - to ask her specifically about the photo, about the boy, would be to intrude into her personal life in a way that would leave her feeling exposed. Vulnerable. Emily would feel the need to run.

So Hotch resolved to keep his questions to himself. And with that resolution, Hotch let out a deep breath and continued down the street.

He had a wife and son to get home to.

A/N: I'm trying to keep these notes to a minimum, so I'll just say one thing.

I'd love for you guys to send some reviews. Are you enjoying the story? Any episodes you're hoping will be included in the story?

I'm planning to write a sequel to the original "Three Small Words" as well, looking at Emily and Hotch's relationship developing post-BBQ. Let me know if you'd be keen to read that story too.