"Blake!" Spencer yelled, standing on her front stoop. He stabbed the doorbell and banged on the oak door with an open hand. "Blake, what did you do?" He screamed, still pounding on the door, suddenly, the door swung open and he almost fell inside.

"I have neighbors, Spencer," Alex hissed through clenched teeth, she stood in front of him in ratty sweatpants and a bathrobe. The picture of domesticity. "Come inside."

He stepped inside the house and closed the door.

Suddenly, he didn't have anything to say, she certainly didn't look like the sophisticated psychopath she would have to be in order to pull off a plan to kidnap and kill Strauss after 20 years.

He swallowed nervously, his hands shook. "Blake we need to talk." After meeting with Strauss, Hotch and Morgan gave the team a synopsis of what they'd learned. Spencer spent enough time with both of them to know when they were holding back.

"At 2 in the morning?" Blake huffed, "Don't you ever sleep?" She asked, staring him down. He'd interrupted her quiet night at home and simultaneously killed her buzz.

"No." He said sternly, and glared at her. The air around him suddenly buzzed with his internal anger as he remembered the purpose of his visit.

"I don't. I was going over The Replicator's case file and I learned that you." He stabbed his finger at her accusingly, "And John Curtis were both transferred to the Kansas field office. You worked together on several projects- you were friends. You were probably one of the only friends he ever had-"

"Stop." Blake said she knew where this conversation was headed. "You don't really think I tried to kill Erin?" She asked, equal parts shocked and hurt.

"It's not about what I think, the only thing anyone knows is that you're connected to Curtis-"

"Spencer…." she whispered around the lump in her throat. "I can't believe you would think that…I would do something like this-"

"I don't want to. I think you need to get out of town before the rest of the team catches on to this. I hid the file to buy you some time."

She laughed gently, "Spencer you need to put that file back where you found it." She scolded, almost maternally. "I didn't do this and your team is going to figure that out."

"I'm sorry.." he blushed, "I just thought-"

"Want some wine?" She asked, shaking her head.

"No...umm..I should go," He opened the door and stepped outside.

"Okay," she said, and Spencer?"

He turned around to face her.

"Thanks for having my back."

Derek sat in the driver's seat of an unmarked car, contemplating his life choices, wondering why the Hell Hotch had volunteered him to drive Reid to Blake's neighborhood after midnight. He'd dropped Reid off in front of the house, then drove around the block. Reid would meet him on the next street over. Derek drummed his hands on the steering wheel, to fill the silence. The Kid had better come back with some kind of evidence, proving that Blake was guilty. Otherwise this stake out was a waste of time-and sleep.

The passenger door opened and Reid slid inside the car, dropping his bag on the floorboard.

"Did you get anything?"

"She's guilty." Reid said, closing the door. "If she wasn't with Curtis, she knows who was."

"How do you know?" Derek asked, "How could you tell in the 10 minutes you were with her?" The witch hunt against Blake was getting ridiculous. The only thing anyone knew she was guilty of was talking to the security detail. There was no crime in having a conversation.

"Morgan, listen." Reid said, the urgency in his tone caught Derek's attention. "When I confronted her about her relationship with Curtis, she avoided using his name, like she didn't want to talk about him. She only cared about what I thought, not the team, not Strauss, just me. Her microexpressions let me know that she was trying to appear innocent."

"Reid, are you serious? There's no way Blake did this-"

Reid was practically yelling at this point, he turned around to face his friend and said, "Derek, she knows I'm the only one who might visit her in prison!"

Dave shot up in his bed, the sound of the ringing phone blared in his ears. "Rossi," he said, holding the phone to his face.

"Hi, Dave...sorry to wake you."

"What's going on, Blake?" There was no reason for her to call. The director grounded them until further notice, they didn't have a case.

Alex shook her head, a glass of wine in her hand. She was home alone and bored, after sending Spencer home. Messing with Rossi was perfect entertainment. "How's Erin doing?" She asked, running her finger around the rim of her glass. She reached for the bottle on the coffee table and refilled it.

"She's fine." Dave said quickly. He eyed the clock on the nightstand, the red LED numbers mocked him. "It's two-thirty in the morning, Blake. What the hell is going on?"

"She's not answering her phone." Alex said, the picture of concern. "I left several voicemails. I thought...well, I don't know what I thought," she said milking the role of the concerned friend.

Thinking quickly, Dave said, "Her phone got smashed in the evidence locker. We turned it off until she gets another one."

"I thought we had turned a corner, I just assumed she would call me back eventually."

Dave didn't want to tip her off so he said, "don't take it personally, Alex. She's working through everything that happened, it might take some time for her to get back on her feet."

Alex took a sip of her wine, this was more fun than she anticipated. "I understand," she whispered, "just tell her I called."

"I will."

"Goodnight, Rossi."

"Go to bed, Blake."

Alex chuckled and ended the call. Her heart pounded gleefully, she had Rossi right where she wanted him, in bed next to Strauss.

Dave sat back on the edge of the bed, he needed to catch Alex in the act. So far, playing cat and mouse with someone wasn't illegal. He threw the phone down on the bed beside him, that crazy witch was going down no matter what.

He stood up and left the phone on the bed and went to the window. He could see an unmarked car parked, facing the back of the house, they were safe. That was all he needed to know. Still, Blake rattled him, he pulled on some clothes and grabbed his gun from the nightstand. Anything could happen in the middle of the night. Tiptoeing through the house, he promised himself that he would keep them safe, no matter what. "What are you doing up?" He asked, surprised to see Erin on the foot of the steps, her service weapon in hand.

Erin jumped, startled and turned around. "What the hell, David! You're lucky I had the safety on."

"Well?" He asked again, "What are you doing up? You need your sleep."

"I couldn't sleep." She explained and took the magazine from the gun, laying it beside her.

He stepped off the staircase and sighed, "I never thought I'd see the day when we were both standing in your house, armed."

"And not targeting each other," she said dryly.

He chuckled, "yeah, tell me about it." He picked up the clip and pointed it at her."You know this isn't necessary."

They had security posted outside and the alarm was on, they were as safe as they could be.

"Do you want to be the pot or the kettle?" She asked, eyeing the gun on his hip.

"Well," he crossed into the kitchen, "since we're both up, we might as well have coffee."

Erin lifted her mug from the floor beside her and took a sip. "There's some in the pot."

He took a mug down from the cabinet and filled it. He raised it to his lips, took a sip and said, "what the hell are we doing?" He asked, sitting down beside her on the staircase. "We're supposed to be…." he stopped abruptly. He wanted to say, they were supposed to be planning their future, celebrating their fresh start. Instead, they were playing watchdog, waiting for a killer to strike.

"What are we supposed to be doing?" Erin pressed.

"Nothing…" He said quickly, "I just know it's not supposed to be like this." She wasn't supposed to be afraid in her own house, spending every night with her firearm in hand when they should have been sleeping. He wasn't supposed to be launching an investigation into one of his teammates. Nothing was the way it was 'supposed' to be.

"We're supposed to be happy." Erin said, laying her head on his arm.

He kissed the top of her hair. "I'm happy with you."

"Are you?" She raised an eyebrow, they didn't even share a bed.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

She pulled far enough away to look him in the eye. "You have a funny way of showing it."

"What?" He asked, confused by her statement.

"You don't touch me, David, you won't even sleep in bed next to me." She knew what it looked like when a man was phasing her out, Peter did it to her. Her father had done the same thing to her mother. David's motives were crystal clear.

"Erin-" He tried to argue, but the words didn't come out.

"You don't have to lie about it-"

"I'm not, I just don't know what you want me to do-"

"I want you to treat me the way you did before we left for New York. We were equals, friends- lovers. Now, you tiptoe around me like I'm going to fall apart at any second. I feel like a Faberge egg- something to look at, but never to touch." She didn't want to admit it out loud, but she felt more like a novelty or a piece of furniture to him.

He threw his hands up and stepped off the staircase. "When we left for New York, everything was normal-" Before the trip to New York, when he was home, they had a lot of sex. They spent time at his house…having fun in and out of the bedroom. It was a great relationship. The honeymoon was over.

The Replicator's attack scarred him more than he realized. He couldn't get past being with her while she was comatose. Every time he looked at her, he realized how close he was to losing her. He couldn't face that pain again, since she'd been home, he tried everything he could think of to take care of her. Made sure she ate, tried to ensure she got enough sleep; all while keeping his distance but damn, he missed her. Missed laying in bed next to her, fighting over the blankets in the middle of the night...waking up to her scent on his pillows. He longed for the way things used to be. They couldn't even bicker and fight, anymore, that was the one thing they were good at. They were both afraid to go too far.

"How so? There was still a serial killer at large, that much hasn't changed-"

"How can I have sex with you?" He asked, the words dropped like a boulder between them. "When all I see is how sick you've been? First, the coma, then as soon as we get home, you're poisoned by a damn plant. Sex is the last thing you need right now-"

"I didn't ask you for sex-"

"No you didn't but sex was our thing. We did it often and we did it well, without the need to define our relationship, past that point. Now we have a baby on the way and… things are just going too fast for me at the moment. The Merry-go-round is spinning out of control, at breakneck speed and I am trying to hold on for dear life, before it tosses me off." He practically begged her to understand. "I didn't mean to feel like this-"

"Are you saying you need to take a break?"

"A what?" Once again she threw him a curveball that he wasn't sure how to catch.

"A break from me." She clarified sounding more and more like his section chief than his lover. As much as it stung, putting a little bit of distance between them wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. As long as it meant they were getting back to normal.

"Erin-" He tried to protest, but she interrupted him.

"I want you to go home." She said flatly, "I think we both need our own space."

"So you want me to leave?" He asked, "Are you throwing me out?"

"I want you to go home and sleep in your own bed tonight."

"I'm not leaving you alone-"He couldn't do it, what kind of man would he be if he left while a psychopath was targeting her?

"There's a fleet of armed guards posted outside, David. I'm safer than I have been or will ever be, again."

"No. Erin, I'm not that selfish-" He said, stepping towards her.

"I didn't say you were." She said, growing more annoyed by the minute, "you said you wanted to take a break, I'm holding the door open."

"It's not necessary, Bella pinning down our relationship can wait-"

"No it can't." She said, dropping another bomb between them. "If you don't go now, you never will."

Silence passed between them, "I won't be responsible for your unhappiness." She crossed her arms, stuck out her chin and said, "This isn't up for debate, David. Go home, take your break." If she didn't let him go, now, when he eventually left, he wouldn't come back.

"Fine, but I'm not leaving yet." He stepped into the living room and looked out the window. The sun wasn't up yet, the night sky was devoid of stars. "I'll leave when the sun comes out."

She stared at him, letting him know that he didn't have the option to stay. "Are you packing your bag or should I?"

He packed his own bag, then drove to Garcia's apartment to borrow the most secure cell phone she owned. According to the technical analyst, the CIA would have a hard time cracking it. For that much security, Erin could ignore the bedazzled phone case that was more fitting for a Vegas showgirl, than an officer of the FBI.

Erin sat at the counter of her townhouse and stared at the phone, with David on a 'break' and her kids at school, there wasn't anyone to call.

"Shit. Amanda." With everything that happened, Erin hadn't talked to the woman she was sponsoring in nearly a week. Being unreliable wasn't a good look for a sponsor.

She dialed Amanda's number and waited. The call was answered almost immediately.

"Rollins," the woman clipped.

Dave unlocked his house and opened the door. All the lights were out, he flipped the switch beside the door and the kitchen illuminated. Mudgie trotted inside behind him. Dave sat his bag down by the door and huffed, "Well this sucks."

He wanted to turn around and go back to Erin's house, but she was right. They needed a break and one day wouldn't hurt. Blake wasn't stupid enough to try and cross a fleet of security guards.

He went into the kitchen, the breakfast nook was empty. The flowers on the round table were dead. Their petrified petals were scattered on the oak table. He'd bought them fresh, back before they went to New York. Erin had stayed the night and they had an early breakfast before she rushed out to pack up the kids. He sighed at the memory and sat down at the table. That was a good morning and they would probably never have another one. Dave's heart pounded in his ears, suddenly, renewed hatred for Curtis and Blake welled up inside his chest. His current circumstances were exactly why he didn't want to expose their relationship when she pushed so hard for it.

He snatched the flowers from their vase and torpedoed the bouquet into the trash and missed. The flowers scattered over the kitchen floor, stems and all. John Curtis had ruined everything! He reached for the vase and sent that flying too. The crystal vase shattered against the tiled floor, reflecting the early morning sunlight. Leaving a puddle of dirty water and shards of glass on the floor.

Mudgie came over and laid his head on Dave's knee. Dave gave the dog a scratch behind the ears. "What the hell are we going to do?"

The dog whimpered in response. He turned away from Dave, a moment later he returned with a dead rose dangling from his mouth.

"No, Mudgie." Dave chastised gently and took the flower. "Don't eat that." He went to the pantry and got the broom. Destroying his house wasn't going to fix anything.

"Go lay down."

Erin didn't sleep, couldn't eat. She cleaned the house, ordered things from Amazon and tried to pretend that she wasn't waiting for David to call her. Absently, she picked up the phone and made a call. The silence in the house was going to drive her crazy, if she didn't act fast.

"You know," Peter said, picking up the call after 3 rings, "Our children aren't home yet."

"I know." Erin responded, drumming her fingers against the kitchen table. "Just…" she searched for the right words. She didn't know why she decided to call her ex husband, while Dave was gone, but she didn't have the energy to analyze it. "Have them call me when they get home."

"You know they will…" he let the sentence hang. "Just because we're divorced, doesn't mean I stopped caring…" he cleared his throat uncomfortably, "are you doing okay?"

He was kind and gentle, more gentle than she could ever be. It was one of his best and most annoying qualities.

"I'm fine." She lied and he knew it.

"How could you be? Your mother told me what happened in New York...she told me about you and Rossi-"

Erin rolled her eyes, was nothing sacred? "It wasn't her place to tell-"

"I know." Peter said, "But if it matters, I'm glad you're not alone in this."

"Thanks." On habit, she stroked her abdomen. Even with Dave gone, she definitely wasn't alone. After a beat, she said, "you have it worse."

"How's that?" She could hear the grin in his voice.

"You're living with my mother."

Peter guffawed, "it's not as bad as it sounds. She's downstairs and I'm upstairs. The kids float between the two. It's almost like the last half of our marriage, except, this time I'm paying all the bills instead of half."

Erin grinned, "when this is over, I'll reimburse you."

"I want pain and suffering-" He quipped, with a smile.

"Don't push it."

Peter didn't say anything and Erin knew the conversation was coming to an end. "Hey Pete?"

"Mhm?"

"When we were married…" she paused, her ego was about to take a hit. "Did you ever need to 'take a break?"

He laughed, good-naturedly. "All the time and if I had taken one, we might still be married."

Her hackles rose, "What does that mean?"

"It means…" Pete said, the epitome of patience, "if you and Rossi are on break right now, he'll be back. Probably sooner rather than later."

She waited a beat, letting his words sink in. "Do you think the kids are okay? I never wanted to-"

"Stop. We raised our kids to think of others before themselves. They know being away from you is the best course of action right now. They're safer here and they're okay with that."

"I feel like I'm neglecting them," she admitted.

"You're not. Despite what I said when we were divorcing. I didn't mean those things, Erin. You are a good mother and always have been."

"What changed your mind?" Unintentional sarcasm dripped off her tongue.

He rolled his eyes. "Don't let something I said in a fit of temper, when I was deliberately trying to hurt you, cause you to doubt yourself. You know I didn't mean those ugly words. I was angry because I felt you chose the alcohol over me." He assured her, "just concentrate on catching the bad guy."

"But you were right," she admitted. "I chose a lot of things before you-" The hierarchy of her life became more obvious the closer they came to divorce.

Her position in the FBI came before her kids, she needed the job to take care of them. Her marriage came after the kids, because she didn't need Peter. She wanted him, but not as much as she wanted the children, again, she needed the job to support the children. Alcohol helped her cope with the job, which caused her marriage to suffer….rinse and repeat.

"It's water under the bridge," he assured her. "Just catch this son of a bitch."

They ended the call and she sat the phone down. She had to catch Blake in the act, there wasn't another option. The only question was, how?

While seeking revenge, dig two graves - one for yourself.

Douglas Horton

Note: Did you find the easter egg? Let me know.