The next day was Friday. A full weekend was ahead of them. Everyone had plans and were reluctant to spend a long day devoted to paperwork before they could get started on them. Still, diligently, most of the team arrived at their usual time. The unit was just getting busy as Emily stood in the break room fixing a cup of coffee. Morgan stepped over as she poured in some cream.

"Morning, Morgan," she said, as if they hadn't seen each just a few hours ago.

"Good morning, Princess," He replied in a slow, silky voice. He grabbed his usual mug. His eyes looked her up and down, giving a mock look of concern. "You look tired; you sleeping okay at night?"

She rolled her eyes. "That's nothing for you to worry about. Though I should have eaten breakfast before I came in. Did you eat yet?"

"No, I haven't," He reached for the cream beside her, an excuse to lean down to her ear, "Except for your soft little neck earlier."

Emily gave him a smack on the arm, checking to make sure no one was watching them. Her hand went over the red mark just below her ear, left there when they parted earlier. Luckily, her hair covered it. "Shut up, someone's going to overhear you."

"Oh, come on, Prentiss, no one's listening," he replied, standing up. "What's wrong, you mad at me?"

"No, of course not," She exclaimed, turning to face him. "Why would you even think that?"

"Just checking," he replied, "I want to make sure you're happy."

"I am happy," she said with a sincere smile. "I'm just trying to keep my word to Reid. We're at work which means… we're just friends… nothing more."

He gave her a mock expression of sadness, with big puppy dog eyes that made him look so cute, she couldn't resist him. Were they in private, she'd saunter up to him and place a warm, heavy kiss on him. "I think you're just repulsed or embarrassed by me."

"Alright, enough," she turned back around to finish stirring her coffee. They could be together for fifty years, he was never going to let that go. Of the night she'd gone to his apartment, demanding to know why he wanted to forget the first night they had shared.

"Or maybe I just don't satisfy you anymore." He noted.

He wasn't going to give up until she gave him what he wanted. And the best way to do that right now was stroking his ego. "Believe me, Morgan, I'm satisfied."

"Are you sure?" He pressed.

With an annoyed sigh, "Yes, I'm sure."

"How can I be certain? I have no proof" He admitted.

She glanced at him fixing him with narrowed eyes. "Derek Morgan, you have and continue to please me well beyond my needs and expectations. If I didn't need to sleep, eat, or bathe, I would never unwrap my legs from your sexy, muscular body, you big grizzly bear, you."

With a cheeky smile, "There, now, was that so hard to admit?" He gave her a wink.

She tried not to laugh as he headed out into the bull pen. She watched his pursuit, unable to tear her eyes from him for a long time. It was incredible how after two and a half years, not only were they still going strong, but they still couldn't get enough of each other. Emily didn't dread going home anymore because she was never alone. If she was having a problem, even something simple, she loved knowing he was there to vent her feelings to. Her only regret about the whole relationship was it was still secret to most of the team, which meant she couldn't brag about it to JJ and Garcia. They pitied her because they believed she was alone, unable to find a nice man like they both had... when in reality, Emily couldn't be happier. In fact... she'd almost go as far as to say...

No... she wasn't ready to say that yet. Admitting she was in love with him was like a white flag... and while she enjoyed the notion of spending her life with Derek Morgan, she'd seen enough broken relationships over the years to tell her the odds were not in her favor.

Morgan reached his seat and set his coffee down. Several files sat on his desk, waiting for his attention. If he rushed, he could get most of these done by lunch. He might be able to get out early today and make a nice, romantic dinner for he and Emily. A perfect way to kick off their weekend.

Just as he were about to sit down, he glanced up, his eyes landing on a lost soul standing in the doorway. "Can I help you, ma'am?" He asked to a middle-aged woman, moving closer to her.

"Uh…" she glanced around, searching for the someone who matched her idea of how he would look. There was no one. "Is this the… Behavioral Analysis Unit?"

"Yes, ma'am it is," he stepped forward to greet her. "I'm SSA Derek Morgan, how can I help you?"

"I was hoping you and your people could help me with a case." She explained.

Morgan could tell she looked desperate and hated to turn her away. "I'm sorry, we don't just take requests from civilians. You understand, we work with other forms of law enforcement."

"Actually… I'm here to speak to another one of your… agents," she continued glancing around, but the only person she saw was Emily, heading to her desk. She, too, noticed the commotion, watching with interest. "Dr. Spencer Reid. Is he here?"

"Well, no he's not in yet," Morgan explained, glancing at Emily a moment, "He's giving a lecture over at the academy. We expect him before noon, though."

"But he does work here?" She needed to be sure.

"Almost ten years," Morgan explained with a smile, "Are you a friend of his?"

She shook her head, "I doubt he even remembers me."

"Well, you obviously aren't a friend if you think that," Morgan muttered with a smile, "Why don't I take you to see our unit chief. You can tell him your problem while you wait for Dr. Reid."

"Thank you," she replied, letting out a small sigh of relief. She was finally getting somewhere. Morgan led her through the bull pen and up the steps to the closed office door.

"Come in," a voice said as he knocked.

Morgan opened the door, "Hotch, there's a woman here, she seems kind of upset. She says she's looking for Reid."

Before he could say anything, Morgan stepped aside to allow her in. Hotch stood at her presence, attempting to be polite.

"I'm Unit Chief, SSA Aaron Hotchner," he said, offering for a handshake. Her trembling hand took his. Though they didn't speak to the public like this, it would be obvious to a blind man just how distraught this woman was. They couldn't simply send her off. "What's your name, ma'am?"

"Alexa Hillman," she said, avoiding both their eyes.

She claimed one of the seats before the large desk. As she sat down, so did Hotch. "Morgan, send Reid in as soon as he gets here."

"Sure thing," He said, meeting his boss's eye one time before stepping out, closing the door behind him.

Hotch pulled a box of tissues off his shelf. He offered them to Alexa Hillman. As she took it, a few tears began to form. Through her sorrow, she felt relief. Her needs were beginning to be met.

"Why are you asking for Dr. Reid?" he asked. "I don't mean to sound inquisitive, but Reid is under my command. Anything that affects his job, I need to be informed on Miss Hillman. Is it Miss?"

"Misses," she explained. "And I knew Dr. Reid a long time ago… in high school."

"I see," Hotch replied. It was no secret that Reid hadn't had a fun experience in high school. Any reason for an old classmate to come here had to be serious, "You may not understand, Mrs. Hillman, but the BAU just can't take requests when someone is in trouble."

"I didn't think so," she dabbed futilely at her eyes. As soon as a few tears were absorbed, more followed. "It's just my son. My six-year-old boy, he's been missing for two months. I've done everything else, Spencer is my last chance of finding him."

Hotch hid his sympathy. He could understand her pain. Her son wasn't much younger than Jack. And the chances of him being alive after two months were minuscule. He needed to remain impassive. "Well," he checked his watch. It was half past nine now. "Dr. Reid won't be in for awhile, so why don't you tell me everything about what happened to your son."

Reid gathered his materials and put them into his bag. It was no secret that he was annoyed.

"I thought your jokes were funny," Riley said with obvious pity.

"Really?" He stood to meet her eye, "And did you laugh?"

"Yes," she urged.

"Out loud?" He clarified.

She hesitated, "Well… I didn't want to be the only one."

He nodded going back to his bag, "I love you, too, Sweetheart."

"Oh, alright, so you weren't funny," She urged, wrapping him in her arms from behind, "But that's not the purpose of this and you know it. You did a good job, the cadets asked a lot of questions, they were interested. So you told a few complicated jokes, it just showed them how smart you are and that you know what you're doing."

"Are you kidding, it was a class of mostly men." Reid said, turning around, "They were interested because you're hot. They paid attention to me because you were."

"Well, you're amazingly smart and I'm pretty," She said, slipping her arms around his waist. "We're like the Doctor and his companion."

"The Doctor doesn't sleep with his companions," Reid pointed out.

Riley reached up to brush his lips, "Well, that's his loss."

He smiled as they kissed. The classroom had long since emptied and wouldn't have more cadets until the afternoon. Reid felt no reservations about pulling her as close as possible, his fingers losing themselves in the ends of her long curls. She sighed as her hand lost itself in his hair, the other clutching his shirt.

Their lips parted, "Come along, Pond," he said with a smile, slipping his hand into hers. He lead her out the door. "You want me to drive you to the office?"

Riley shook her head, "I only have one session this afternoon. I'm already here; I might as well walk up and say hello. And then we can go to lunch in a little bit."

Agreeing, he lead her down the hall. It was quiet, with the next class already in session. Just before the two reached the stairwell, Riley nearly collapsed as she was hit by another wave of nausea and vertigo. Just like yesterday.

Reid automatically caught her, preventing her from falling. She could barely comprehend what was happening for several seconds. All she could do was cling to his protective form.

Catching her breath, careful not to inhale too deeply so she wouldn't vomit, she managed to stand on her feet. "Are you alright?" Reid asked.

"Yeah…" she said slowly. The nausea lingered. Riley covered her mouth, wishing she knew where the restroom was on this floor.

At last, as the remainder of the nausea left her, Riley removed her hand, meeting her husband's worried eyes. "I'm fine," she assured with a smile.

Reid wasn't convinced, taking her hand again. "I'm taking you home," he stated.

"No, you're not!" She cried, "Spencer, I'm fine."

"You're sick, Riley," Reid argued, "If you don't let yourself rest, you'll just get worse."

"I'm not sick, Spencer, I feel fine," Truly, she knew she was ill. Riley was beginning to feel like she had the flu, but she wouldn't tell him that. Or the fact she'd felt this way for almost two weeks now.

"Oh, and were you feeling fine this morning?" Reid asked. Indeed, he had awoken to putrid retching sounds coming from their bathroom. He had spent the first half hour of the morning holding back her hair while she vomited in the toilet, trying not to breathe in the smell.

"I felt fine after." She pointed out. From the serious expression on his face, he wasn't taking this as lightly. "Look, I can't just go home. I'll admit, I feel a little under the weather. If I feel this bad on Monday, I will stay home, but I can get through the rest of the day. Okay?"

Reid wanted to protest, but had learned a long time ago to pick his battles with her. With a reluctant nod, "Alright, we'll skip lunch though."

He put his arm around her and led her down the steps. "No, I want to go," she said, leaning against him, "Even feeling a little sick, I'm surprisingly starving."

They made it up to the unit about ten minutes later. It was a little after eleven. Morgan and the girls were gathered in the kitchenette on a much needed coffee break. The group greeted the two pleasantly at their arrival. Riley was thinking of a cup herself until the smell hit her nose, bringing her nausea back, and decided against it.

"Reid," Morgan said as he poured himself a cup. "Hotch needs to see you,"

"What for?" He asked.

"Some woman showed up asking for you," explained Morgan. "Said she needs your help."

Reid caught Riley's eye, thinking it had to be the woman from yesterday. She had told him about it yesterday evening, but they didn't think much of it. He gave a shrug, leaving his drink on the counter and heading up to his boss's closed door.

"So how did the lecture go?" JJ asked as Riley grabbed a water from the fridge.

"Pretty well, I think," Riley replied. She opened the bottle and took a careful sip, the smell still revolting to her. "Reid told me about Hotch yesterday. How's he doing?"

"He's not really talking to anyone," Emily said with a shrug, "Unless it's about work. We just feel so bad… but we don't know what to say."

"You know that's when I met Hotch." Riley said, her attention on the rolling beads of condensation on the bottle. "At his wedding. They needed a flower girl and Sean suggested me… I was nine."

"I thought you met Hotch when he interviewed you for Harvard." Morgan said.

Riley shook her head. "We didn't get to know each other until then. After the interview, he kept in touch with me at school and kind of looked out for me. But we met long before that, at the rehearsal for his wedding." The nausea was getting to be too much. Casually, she set her water down next to her husband's cup. "I need to run to the Ladies' Room, I'll be right back."

She took her time until she stepped out of the unit. Out of sight of the others, she covered her mouth and ran in order to make it in time.

Hotch was still sitting with Alexa. She had long since stopped crying, but was still so lost. It was more than understandable. "I'm sure Reid will be here soon," He assured. He could take the opportunity to work on his paperwork from Birmingham, but instead gave her his full attention. "Where's your husband?"

"He's in Vegas, taking care of my daughters." She explained. Her hands in her lap, nervously tearing apart the tissue she held. "At least, I hope he is and not blowing my entire pay check on beer and cigarettes."

Hotch didn't make a comment on that and she was grateful. She looked up, catching his eye. "He doesn't know I'm here."

"Where does he think you are?" He asked.

"In Sparks, visiting my sister." She explained. "I won't even suggest coming here for help."

"I take it that means he's acquainted with Dr. Reid as well?" He knew the answer the moment she looked from his eyes.

"Unfortunately, yes." She pushed some of her hair aside. "John was a bully in high school… and Spencer was his absolute favorite target."

At that moment, the typical 'Shave and a Haircut' sounded on the door. "Come in," Hotch called.

"Hey," Reid said, poking his head in, "Morgan said you were looking for me."

Alexa turned and felt her stomach drop out. Reid's eyes landed on her and recognized her immediately.

"Oh," he smiled, "Hello again."

"Hi," she uttered, standing up slowly.

"You know who this is, Reid?" Hotch asked, getting to his feet as well.

Stepping in, Reid closed the door. "I stopped by to see Riley yesterday on my lunch break, she was in the waiting room." He gave her an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry, ma'am… when you said Dr. Reid… I just assumed you meant my wife."

"I was given the wrong address," She explained, looking like she might cry. He looked so different. Still a gangly, awkward thing, but definitely not what she had expected. He was so grown up. What was worse, he looked her over with such kindness, and it took away her ability to speak.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" Reid asked gently. He took a glance at Hotch, then back to the woman as tears began to fall from her eyes again.

"It's alright, Spencer," she finally uttered, "I didn't expect you to recognize me."

"What's going on?" He asked. There was something about the way she said his name that jerked a memory. But for once, his mind failed him. Perhaps they had met before. "I'm sorry… I don't…"

Managing to hold back the tears, "I've changed a lot in the last twenty years… but so did you, I guess."

"You do seem familiar," Reid mentioned, curious, and he began to get a sinking feeling, trying to place her. "Who are you?"

With a deep breath, she said it before she lost her nerve. "I'm… Alexa – "

"Lisbon," Reid finished, the name spilling forth. Of course it was her, how could he miss that?

"It's Hillman now," she corrected.

"Hillman…" Reid repeated. "So that means you're married to… John Hillman. Harper's brother... oh, yes, I remember him."

"Reid," Hotch chimed in, "She's come here because she needs your help."

"Oh, really," The anger and pain was evident on his face. "I'm sorry to hear that. Not sure exactly how I can assist you, Mrs. Hillman."

"Spencer, I wouldn't come here if I weren't desperate," she basically sobbed.

"Hmm," was his response. "Is that a fact? A lot of people need my help; a lot of kinder, more deserving people."

"Reid, that's not necessary. It's not going to hurt to listen to her," Hotch stated sternly.

"You're right," he said with a condescending smile. "But, Alexa… I do have a lot of work to do, you understand. Paperwork, it really can't wait. I'll get to you if I can. There's always Monday, maybe even Tuesday."

"Reid," Hotch called, a demand for him to stay.

He wouldn't listen, ripping open the door and hurrying out. Alexa watched his retreat. She had failed. There was no more hope now. "Maybe I should go,"

"I'm not sure how much help we can be, but the least we can do is let you talk to Reid." Hotch explained. "Why don't you wait here, and I'll get him. He has to listen to me, I'm his boss. I have almost as much authority over him as his wife."

For the first time in two months, Alexa cracked a grin. "Thank you, Agent Hotchner," she said.

Hotch surprised himself when he returned her smile. He had to admit, even with the veil of sadness about her, she was very pretty. Without another word, Hotch left in pursuit.

The danger of germs and bacteria never even occurred to her as Riley's hand gripped the edge of the toilet seat. She pulled herself away, leaning against the door of the stall, catching her breath. Tears were streaming down her eyes and the back of her throat was scratchy. How anyone could do that voluntarily was beyond her.

There didn't seem to be anything left that wanted to come out. She carefully pulled herself on unsteady feet, flushing the toilet and taking her mess away. She headed out to the sink to wash her hands and rinse her mouth – in that order.

Clean and dry, Riley headed out of the restroom, startled to find someone waiting for her as she stepped out.

"You scared me!" She exclaimed, "What are doing out here?"

"Were you throwing up again?" Reid asked.

"What, are you stalking me?" She questioned.

"Answering a question with a question; if I were interrogating you, I'd consider that an attempt to hide guilt." Reid pointed out, "You ready to go to lunch?"

Riley reached into her purse, pulling out her phone to check the time, "I thought your break didn't start until 12:30, you've got another hour."

He shrugged, "So I'm a little early. It wouldn't be the first time I took a long lunch. Maybe we'll go straight home afterward."

He knew she had a session, and he knew he couldn't convince her to go home and rest, suggesting they go straight home meant something was wrong. Riley folded her arms over her chest. "What's the matter?"

"What?" He squeaked, "Why would you… think that?"

"Well, for one thing, your voice just went up an octave." She pointed out, "But that's beside the point. You're acting nervous. You may want to take a long break, but you never leave early for it if you can help it. Also, you didn't say what Hotch wanted and that would be the first thing you mention."

"You're not a profiler, you know." He asked.

"No, I'm your wife. I know you better than any profiler would." This wasn't amusing anymore. He was starting to worry her. "Why won't you tell me what's wrong?"

"I will," he said, checking behind him, "I just want to get out of here."

"Spencer, you're scaring me." Riley said as he started leading her down the hall. He still had to grab his bag and things; he should have done that first before he caught her. "What's going on?"

"Reid," Hotch said, stepping into the hall.

He stopped, and Riley looked between the two men in horror. Hotch stepped over, "Is it really that much trouble to listen to her?"

Reid shrugged, but his eyes burned with pure loathing. "It doesn't matter what she wants, Hotch. We can't help her anyway. You shouldn't even have let her stay."

"Who?" Riley asked, looking between the men. "Who is she?"

"I'm not asking you to create a profile or start an investigation," Hotch explained, "Just listen to her. Maybe there is something we can do, maybe it's small, but we can't decide that until we know the whole story. She's a grieving mother and she is grasping out for someone to help her, even if it's just support."

"Then you talk to her," Reid snapped.

"Talk to who?" Riley cried.

"It's whom, and it doesn't matter." He took her hand. "I'm going to lunch, send her away before I get back."

"Reid, you take orders from me," Hotch implored. He stepped closer, a threatening demeanor about him normally used on an unsub. "I'm not telling you to be her friend, I'm telling you to meet with her and discuss her case. Or maybe, if you have a problem taking orders, I need to ground you in Quantico on desk duty for a few weeks pending an investigation with Strauss. And I know there are certain things in your record you don't want Strauss finding."

The last time Reid had hated this man so much had been four and half years ago, when Riley had been his therapist. He had been so in love with her, but had believed she were in love with Aaron Hotchner, unwise to the actuality of their relationship. He couldn't refuse his orders then, and he certainly couldn't do it now.

"Tell her to meet me in the conference room," Reid griped, his teeth gritted.

For one usually so willing to help people, good or bad, it was odd seeing her husband so disinclined and downright hateful. "Spencer, who is she?"

"That woman from yesterday," he stated, still staring as Hotch's office door closed. "She's Alexa Lisbon."

Stunned, "Oh my God… what is she doing here?"

"I don't know, and I didn't want to know," He finally turned to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry, we're going to have to put lunch on hold. Hopefully, I'll be done before you have to leave."

"I understand," she replied, squeezing his hand. "Maybe I should go in there with you."

Reid shook his head, "I'll be fine. Besides, you don't feel well."

"Sick or not, I'll kick her ass if you ask me." She said with a wink.

"I shouldn't have to ask my wife to do that for me," He said, heading back inside. "You should just do it."

Riley giggled, watching as he headed through the unit. She stopped abruptly, though, covering her mouth again. She back tracked to the restroom. Apparently, she wasn't as finished in there as she thought.