"Aaron! Stop! It's okay! It's okay… Everything's okay…c'mon…ease up."

Rossi shouldered his way between the white coats surrounding Hotch's bedside. He used his body to block the view of the malevolent, little lipstick. "Hotch! Hotch! Look at me! Look at me…that's right…look at me…" Dave aligned his hands along Aaron's gaunt cheeks, forcing frightened eyes to focus on him.

"It's okay, Aaron. I'm here. Calm down…calm…down…" When the Unit Chief finally did, it was like watching a balloon deflate. All the air and energy rushed out of him, leaving him panting and pale, but, to Rossi's everlasting joy, awake and responsive.

As medical personnel verified that this patient was over his episode of panic, Dave couldn't help moving in for a hug. "You're back. Atta boy, Aaron. Atta boy…You came back…"

Satisfied that Hotch wasn't in danger and sensing a private moment between two friends, the others returned to their duties, closing the door on their way out. Rossi strengthened his embrace around the body that was shivering with shock in the aftermath. "I thought I'd lost you, but you're back…you're back…"

Hotch's voice was a thin, shaky version of its usual baritone. "She was here, Dave."

"Shhhhh….Not anymore." Instinctively, Rossi rocked, trying to will comfort into the younger man. "She's gone. She can't get to you again. The others are working the case. They'll get her."

At mention of the team, he felt Hotch stiffen.

Slow anger began to bubble inside Rossi. This unsub hadn't merely kidnapped and drugged federal agents. She'd struck at their bonds; the foundation that was likely the closest thing to a functional family that Aaron had ever known. She'd done untold damage to his ego, his sense of self-respect and dignity. Dave knew Hotch would put up a brave front and soldier on, but he was unsure if the wounds would heal, or merely be covered over and licked in private.

And he's had enough pain in his life. With Haley calling the shots on when he can see Jack, this team is the best thing in Aaron's life on a daily basis. That unsub hit him where it hurt the most.

Rossi kept rocking his friend, murmuring words like 'safe' and 'everything's fine' and 'we'll get her.'

It sounded good, but he wasn't sure any of it was the truth.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Megan Kane's photo was circulating through all the high end hotels in Dallas.

J.J. had done a fine job getting the unsub's face and name out in a variety of media alerts. They had to believe it was just a matter of time before she was caught in their net.

The most discouraging moment came when the agents had decided to swing back through some of the establishments they knew Megan frequented. Morgan wanted to make it clear that the unsightly presence of armed law enforcement personnel in the main lobbies would continue until the woman was apprehended. The subtext being 'You better keep a sharp eye out and tell us if you see her, if you ever want your atmosphere of elegant refinement and privilege back. FBI mingling with your clientele could be bad for business and reputations.' And this case had brought home the perceived importance of reputation for the upper echelons in spades.

But when a frustrated hotel manager shook his head and told Derek there were a hundred girls a day walking through who looked just like her, and then proceeded to point out a dozen in the course of an hour, a pall of defeat descended over the entire procedure.

"Hell, son, she could even pass for the lady if she dressed herself up a little," the manager said, nodding toward J.J.. "This state and this city and this country for that matter are fairly crawlin' with pretty, young blondes with pert noses and big eyes." Muttering to himself, the man retreated to his office to bemoan the unfairness of it all.

Prentiss looked disgruntled. "I don't buy it. They could identify her if they want, but I'm betting the idea of having an arrest made on the premises is unthinkable."

"If that's true, it's like another layer of protection for her." Reid shook his head in amazement. "First, fear of tarnishing their reputations made the unsub's victim pool protect her. And now…the places where she conducts her business and commits most of her murders is throwing in with them. Fear of scandal is keeping her safe. Unbelievable!"

"Well, I'm gonna head back to PD headquarters." J.J. took a surreptitious peek at her reflected image in a decorative glass panel. "Might as well leave if I look, you know…like her." She brushed at her skirt, smoothing some wrinkles. "And there's nothing wrong with the way I dress."

"Of course not. You look great." Prentiss sniffed. She always wore pants thanks to her field agent status. In her opinion, the liaison's wardrobe of conservative skirts and dresses was the epitome of business class and style. Only Hotch looked more high-end and that was more execution than fashion. The wrinkle-free façade topped off by the perfect Windsor knot, like the finishing ribbon on a package.

No sooner did she think of Hotch than Morgan's phone chimed. A smile that had nothing to do with solving the case spread across his features.

"Hey, guys. Hotch's back."

More than one pair of eyes among them closed, sending heartfelt thanks to whatever gods might be watching over damaged FBI agents. The news lifted their spirits and renewed their determination.

And decided their next move.

Everyone wanted to see Hotch and feel the burn of his beloved glare.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Megan watched the agents enter the hospital from across the street.

She hadn't been able to sleep. She'd decided if she couldn't get to Aaron, at least she could stay nearby.

Hair slicked back into a ponytail so tight it felt like a facelift; Stetson pulled low against the midday sun; Coal black Dolce and Gabanna shades perched on the bridge of her nose…she was beginning to realize that her attitude of ease was also part of her effectiveness at dodging detection. No nervous fidgeting to draw focus.

She smiled. Aaron must be awake if the entire team was here, and seeming cheerful.

That meant he'd be discharged soon.

Megan didn't think it would be too difficult to find out where he was staying once he was released. She was on very friendly terms with a number of staff serving the best accommodations in town. All they knew was that she was a frequent guest whose hand was lavish when it came to tipping.

And there were all sorts of ways to gain access to hotel rooms.