Keep On Getting Closer Part 1
Carl Jung once said: Where love rules, there is no will to power and where power predominates, love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other.
7 months later
Emily was having one of those mornings when everything seemed to go wrong; first she'd gone back to sleep after turning her alarm clock off without realizing, then waking up in a panic a few minutes later she'd run into the shower only to find that the heater wasn't working properly, and then she'd spilled coffee on her white blouse just as she was about ready to leave so that she had had to change.
Definitely one of those mornings.
She ran to her car to limit rain damage to her straightened hair and started driving, intent on getting to the BAU in time despite the bad morning, rain and traffic. After a while, her cell beeped and, curious, she grabbed and snapped it open, all the while trying to keep her eyes on the road.
It was a text message from Hotch, asking her if she was on her way.
Not wanting to risk getting into an accident – it was definitely that kind of morning – Emily shut her phone again and kept driving. She would be there soon anyway.
It beeped again a few minutes later. Another text from Hotch, this time ordering her to respond ASAP. Emily sighed in frustration and looked at the clock. She wasn't even late yet, what was wrong with the universe this morning? She dialed JJ's number.
"Emily!"
"JJ, I'm on my way, tell Hotch I'll be there in a few minutes."
"You're okay," JJ said and Emily frowned at the relief in her friend's voice.
"Yeah, I'm fine- JJ what's going on?"
"Em, just… just hurry."
"Alright," Emily replied, curious and apprehensive, but knowing that if JJ could tell her over the phone, she would. "Give me a few minutes."
She hung up and focused on the road once more, so that a few minutes later she entered the BAU, just like she'd promised. What she didn't expect was the strange looks of her coworkers as she stepped in; Morgan walking quickly over to her with a grave expression, Reid standing from his desk with a strange worried look on his face, and then Garcia pushing Morgan out of the way to envelop her in a fierce hug.
"Whoa!" Emily said as she returned the hug lightly. "Guys, what's going on?" she asked over Garcia's shoulder.
"Prentiss!" she heard Hotch's voice bellow from the landing, "in my office, now!"
Emily frowned as she stepped past her teammates. She met Hotch's undecipherable gaze across the bullpen and then Dave's, who was leaning against the handrail. The latter's small smile of encouragement somewhat reassured her, just as much as it puzzled her. What had she done to provoke Hotch's wrath and her friends' worry?
Bracing herself, she joined Hotch and followed him into his office. He closed the door behind her.
"Hotch, what's going on?" she asked as he turned his attention on her.
"Are you alright?"
That took her aback for a second. But only for a second. "Damn it Hotch, I'm fine, what's going on?"
He gazed at her for a few seconds, as if debating with himself whether he should tell her, but then made up his mind and moved to retrieve an envelope from his desk. "We received these in the mail."
Emily looked up in puzzlement as she took the envelope from him, but he didn't say anything, so she just opened it and pulled out what was inside.
And then she frowned. They were pictures of her, six of them in total, except that those pictures had been taken without her realizing it. Someone was stalking her? Emily felt her stomach knot painfully as she started looking at them more carefully. In one of them she was standing behind a crime scene tape with Morgan, obviously at work, but the photographer had circled her head in black marker; in another she was exiting her car at the grocery store; in yet another she was outside her gym and talking on her cellphone; in another she was walking up the steps to her apartment building, and the last two… made her gasp. They had both been taken through her apartment windows; on one she was cooking dinner in her kitchen, and the last one showed her in her bedroom, in the process of pulling a sweater over her head, showing way too much skin and underwear for her taste.
Her legs gave away from under her and she dropped into a chair. "Oh my God! Who exactly did you say got these?"
Hotch was still frowning as she looked up, but there was definite concern in his expression. "We all got one. David, JJ, Morgan, Garcia, Reid, myself. They were delivered express this morning. Whoever sent these knew enough about us to know our morning routines. He wanted us to have them before we left for work."
Emily was beyond words, so she merely shook her head in confusion.
"Prentiss, are you sure you haven't noticed anything suspicious before today? A feeling that you were observed, maybe?"
She shook her head as she met his gaze again. "No! No, I haven't noticed anything. No suspicious gifts or letters or anything!"
"Okay," he nodded. "You know I had to ask."
"Of course." She nodded, until an alarming idea came to mind. "I've never seen that behavior from a stalker, have you? A stalker that alerts his victim's friends that he's watching her? That makes no sense."
He shook his head and leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's why I don't think we're dealing with a stalker. These aren't stalking pictures, I think they're a warning. To us, and to you."
Emily blinked. "A warning… that what? He's watching me? That he wants me dead?"
Hotch looked down at her question, but then pushed himself from his desk. "Let's gather the team, build a profile. Look through our cases to see who could have a grudge both against us as a team, and you personally."
Emily nodded, but as she tried rising to her feet, she found her legs shaking so much that she fell back. She tried to hide her sudden weakness, but Hotch saw right through her and was at her side in a second, gently taking the pictures from her hands and sitting in the chair next to hers. Close enough to show his support but far enough to remain professional. Emily was always amazed at his capacity never to cross that fine line.
"We're going to find whoever's behind this," he said, leaning his forearms on his thighs.
She met his gaze and at that moment she felt compelled to believe him. "I know," she said, drawing some resolve from his gaze. Her friends were some of the smartest people in the country, if anyone could figure this out, they would. And nobody beat Hotch in the relentlessness department.
Hotch nodded, holding her gaze for a few more seconds, until he looked down at the envelope between his fingers. "I realize this is a lot to take in, but we need to discuss some security issues."
"You really think these are serious?" Emily asked as she pointed to the envelope, half hoping that he would give her the reassuring answer, even if it wasn't the truth.
"I don't know, but I don't want to take any chances. You'll be safe as long as you're at the BAU, but whoever sent these definitely knows where you live. Do you have anyone you could stay with?"
Emily considered it for a second; her closest friends worked at the BAU and were known to the UnSub, so she shook her head. That only left… Her eyes widened in horror at the thought of having to actually live with her again. Having lunch or dinner was one thing, but to actually live under the same roof?
Hotch raised an eyebrow at her expression. "Prentiss?"
Emily cleared her throat. "I could probably call my mother?" she said with a painful expression, half hoping that he would save her and decree it a bad idea for security reasons.
She narrowed her eyes when she saw him trying to bite back a smile. "Good," was all he said. "In the meantime, we'll book you a hotel room for tonight and escort you there. I'll have JJ and Morgan go to your place and bring you back whatever you'll need for the next few days. We'll have a security detail keep an eye on you as well, and you shouldn't go anywhere by yourself."
"Oka- Oh crap!"
"What?"
"I just- I'm going to have to cancel my date tonight," she said, feeling awkward at her disclosure. This was just something that she did not discuss with Hotch.
A funny expression crossed his face for a moment, but then he blinked and it was gone. "I'm afraid so. Of course you understand that we'll also need his contact information."
Emily nodded reluctantly. She knew these were standard procedures, so she fought back the desire to argue that this was too much and that she could take care of herself. She knew that Hotch would have none of it anyway; he was very protective of his own, and particularly so since his own ordeal at the hands of Foyet, and at the moment she was only grateful that he considered her as one of his people. When had she become an integral part of the team in his eyes, she wondered? They'd had a rocky start in the trust department, but she felt fairly confident that he completely trusted her now. Had it begun when she had quit because she refused to spy on him? Or later?
Emily laughed humorlessly and she leaned her forehead against her hand. "God I knew this was going to be a bad day."
He smiled thinly in response.
"But thanks," she added gratefully.
His gaze softened. "You're a member of this team, Prentiss, and no one messes with this team without facing the consequences."
She smiled. "Very dramatic, thank you."
He looked down at her teasing, but the tiny smile was still present. "Now, let's go meet the others and get this over with."
Hours later, they were all still buried under piles of folders, ingesting too much caffeine and arguing loudly as to what the profile should be. The team had agreed with Hotch that this wasn't 'normal' sexual stalker behavior, but rather actions based on revenge. But since they had no other clues as to his motives and since Emily was his only known target, they couldn't actually propose a solid profile. They couldn't rule out that someone already in jail could hire somebody outside to do their dirty work for them either, so that the pile that they had to go through was depressingly high.
"Hey guys, you remember the Nashville killer?" Reid suddenly asked, catching everyone's attention.
Morgan nodded. "Hell yeah. You arrested the guy, didn't you Emily?"
Emily nodded as Reid offered her the file. "Yes I did."
"The Nashville killer?" Hotch asked, looking confused.
Emily passed the file over to him. "Yeah, it was one of those cases you missed while you were on leave. He was a stalker who made women act out his romantic fantasies. When it went too far for them and they stopped playing, he killed them."
"This sounds like it could fit our profile," Dave said. "Let's move it to the viable suspect pile."
"Yeah, he certainly got to me," Emily agreed.
Morgan snickered. "That's an understatement."
"Oh come on, I might have gotten a little carried away, but I wasn't that out of control," Emily retorted.
"Let's focus, please," Hotch quietly reprimanded. "I think I've found one that fits our profile even better," he said as he handed the folder to her.
Emily opened it and sighed. "Steven Norland. I sincerely hoped never to see that name again."
"For my part I wouldn't mind a little rematch," Morgan said under his breath.
"Steven Norland, he escaped, didn't he?" JJ asked.
Hotch nodded. "Yes he did."
"Yeah, and he did say he would find me again," Emily said.
"That's not in your report," Reid pointed out.
Emily looked up and found five pairs of eyes staring at her. "What?"
"You didn't mention that in your report," Hotch repeated. Emily wasn't sure why but she felt like a teenager about to get reprimanded for getting home too late. "What else did he say that you didn't report?"
"I don't remember."
"Emily, come on, you don't forget something like that," Morgan pressed.
Emily opened her mouth to reply, but Rossi beat her to it. "That's not important right now, we still have other suspects, let's move on, shall we?" he tossed the file onto the 'viable' pile.
Everyone returned to their respective folders, but Emily could feel Hotch's gaze on her. She was well aware that she hadn't reported the whole conversation, but at the time it had seemed like the right thing to do. What Norland had said to her, it wasn't something that she wished others to know. But now that she was busted, it was only a matter of time before Hotch broached the topic again, and she couldn't help the slight feeling of dread and guilt that settled in her stomach at the thought.
After a few more hours of sorting case files, everybody was ready to take a break. Emily was filling up what was probably her five hundredth cup of coffee of the day when JJ and Morgan walked up to her.
"We're about ready to go get your stuff. Did you make a list?" JJ asked.
Emily nodded and gave it to her, along with her keys. "Don't let Morgan near my underwear drawer."
He smiled his flirty smile. "Oh come on baby, not even a little peak?"
Emily and JJ shared a look and a shake of the head. They turned to go, but Emily stopped JJ with a hand on her arm. "Hey JJ, can I ask… which picture did you get in the mail?"
JJ frowned. "I think it was one of you getting out of your car. Why?"
Emily shook her head. "Just curious. Did you see the other pictures?"
JJ shook her head. "No, Hotch said it didn't matter what the photos actually showed and that we should just know that they were all of you."
Emily nodded, trying not to let her relief show too much. "Okay. Thanks for getting my stuff."
This had been nagging her all day. There was one picture in particular – the one of her getting undressed – about which she couldn't help but wonder… She had her suspicions about who might have gotten it, but she needed to know, if only to make sure that she had a good reason to be as mortified as she felt. She approached Reid, who was also making himself some more coffee, although the way his eyes shown a little crazily and the high speed of his speech made her wonder if maybe he'd already had a little too much.
"Hey."
"Hey," he said as he dropped a ridiculous amount of sugar into his cup.
"Which picture of me did you get in the mail?"
He didn't hesitate, thanks to eidetic memory. "The one of you in your kitchen. Why?"
Emily shook her head. "No reason. Thanks."
Walking back to the conference room where Dave and Hotch were still debating ideas, Emily was about to summon the courage to open her mouth and ask them the same question when Garcia barged in.
"Your Canadian boyfriend looks clean, my sweet," she said as she placed a folder in Emily's hands.
Emily was taken aback for a second, and she threw a quick, awkward look at Hotch and Rossi to see their reaction; Hotch was apparently entranced in his reading, but Rossi threw her a teasing look. "Thanks, Garcia. But he's not my boyfriend, we only went out twice."
"Well, whatever you want to call him, it was easy to track him down, him being Canadian on a work visa and all. He's cute, by the way."
Emily chuckled, a little embarrassed, as she threw another look at Hotch. He was still not paying attention to them. Good. "Ah, thanks, Garcia."
"Sure thing."
On second thought, Emily followed her outside the conference room. "Hey Garcia, which picture of me did you get?"
Garcia's face changed. "The one where you're walking to your apartment building. I'm sorry to admit that I didn't get it right away. It was only when I got here and realized that they'd all got one that I understood that something was wrong."
Emily squeezed her arm. "It's okay, Garcia. Thanks."
She returned to the conference room and sat down, half expecting Hotch or Dave to bring up her 'boyfriend' or the report issue, but they didn't. Instead Reid joined them again and the four of them spent the next hour or so in almost complete silence while they finished going over the pile, finding another couple of cases that seemed to fit the profile. It was only when Morgan and JJ returned with Emily's stuff that they all stopped working.
"Be extra vigilant tonight," Hotch advised. "The threat targets Prentiss personally, but he's watching all of us. Be careful."
Everyone agreed as they grabbed their stuff and left the bullpen, leaving Emily, Hotch and Rossi to put some order into the chaos of files on the table. Just as he moved past her to get to his office, Dave whispered, "I got the one of you and Morgan. Just in case you're wondering." And then he was gone. She rolled her eyes at the fact that nothing ever escaped that man. It was as admirable as it was annoying.
So that left Morgan and Hotch, and she wasn't sure which of two she wished had gotten the picture. They both respected her, but Morgan would feel no scruples in teasing her mercilessly once this was over, and Hotch… well, it was just mortifying imagining him receiving that picture, wondering what the hell was going on. 'Why would Prentiss send me a picture of herself half-naked?' God, the mere thought of it!
"You ready?" His sudden appearance at her side made her blush in guilt and embarrassment.
She cleared her throat. "Oh yes, I was just waiting for whoever's driving me to the hotel."
"That would be me."
"Oh. Alright," was all she said as she gathered her stuff and picked her ready bag.
The ride was done in silence, much to Emily's surprise who kept expecting being reprimanded for her report. But he said nothing on the drive, nor as he checked her in at the hotel, nor as he followed her to the 5th floor. In the end, she was the one to break the silence when they finally reached the door to her hotel room and they stepped inside.
"You didn't have to come all the way up, you know," she said as she dropped her bag on the bed.
"I'm just returning the favor."
Emily smiled wanly as she took off her jacket and turned to look at him. He was standing still, hands in his pockets, and quietly observing her with that severe stare of his. Emily couldn't bear it anymore. "I know what you're thinking."
He tilted his head and pursed his lips in reply, and Emily understood the gesture as encouragement to say more.
"About the report. I know you're angry that I left things out."
"I guess it depends on how much you actually left out. We need to know what really happened if we want our profile to be accurate, you know that."
Emily nodded and sat on the bed with a sigh. "I know- of course I know. It's just… My report was accurate and complete, except for one thing."
He raised his chin, as if bracing himself.
"The threat I mentioned earlier. When Norland handcuffed me, he said that he didn't have time to have some fun, but that we'd meet again. I said that we would find him, no matter where he went, but he just said that he would find me first. The son of a bitch actually promised."
Hotch closed his eyes briefly and shook his head.
"And when I wrote the report, I thought that this wasn't something I wanted everyone in the FBI to know, you know? So I just... skipped it. But everything else was an accurate description."
Hotch looked back up and nodded. "I believe you." His eyes swept around the room for a second. "Is there anything else you need?"
"There is one thing…"
"Name it."
"I have to ask… Which picture did you get in the mail?"
The 'deer-caught-in-headlights' look on his face was almost comical. She was pretty sure that not much could surprise Aaron Hotchner and even less make him blush, but this was as close as it got. He pursed his lips and looked down, eyebrows raised as he rubbed a finger over his upper lip. "You think that's relevant to the profile?"
Emily shrugged. "I don't know. But this is all we have to go on at the moment." And she just really needed to know.
He cleared his throat and seemed to stand taller, as if preparing himself for a confrontation. "I got the bedroom picture. It would make sense that he'd send that particular one to me, though, wouldn't it?" he added in one breath.
Emily almost smiled at his awkwardness, but as the idea of him getting the picture made her feel pretty awkward herself, she skipped the teasing and merely raised an eyebrow. "Why do you say that?"
He cleared his throat again. "I'm the unit chief - your boss - he probably wanted me to get the message more quickly than anyone else. And every UnSub whose files we looked over today knew me as well, so they know how protective of my team I can be."
Emily nodded. "Well, except for the Nashville killer."
"Yes, which is why I'd be tempted to rule him out as a suspect. But it's too early to say for certain."
Emily nodded, and a few seconds passed before he shifted on his feet. "Well, good night."
Emily rose to her feet and walked him to the door. "Good night. And thanks, for everything."
"I'm sorry you had to cancel your date."
Emily looked at him in surprise for a few seconds, she just hadn't expected that, but then shook her head when his expression didn't give up anything. "That's alright, it's not like we can't reschedule."
"Right. Of course." He turned to leave, but then stopped as he reached the door. "Sheppard and Mansfield are in the room next to yours, they'll be keeping watch tonight. If anything happens, follow protocol and make contact. But I want to be next on your speed dial."
"Got it. Thanks Hotch."
He returned her nod and grabbed the door handle, but this time it was Emily who stopped him.
"Hotch!" He met her gaze. "Be careful?"
He gave her a curt nod, and then was gone.
End part 1
As a side note, the story is almost finished, I'm still working on the last couple of chapters, but I'll try posting every couple of days, so you should have the whole thing by the beginning of next week, I think. Reviews and comments are welcome! I've been out of the loop for a while, so I hope the characters are still acting like they should!