Part 3 (Disclaimer in Prologue)

Things have gotten closer to the sun
And I've done things in small doses
So don't think that I'm pushing you away
When you're the one that I've kept closest

The XX - Crystalised

Emily woke up with a headache the next morning, probably as a consequence of too much caffeine and a restless night filled with disturbing dreams. While she couldn't help but worry about her safety, she knew, rationally, that there was nothing more the FBI could do to protect her until they knew more. But she was concerned about Hotch. He'd been edgy and irascible all day yesterday, making everyone in the team walk on eggshells around him, and he hadn't even realized it.

To Emily he'd just looked… in a state of panic. And what was confusing was that the threats – as potentially bad as they were - didn't seem to warrant such a reaction from him. Something else must be bothering him, but Emily wasn't sure she had a right to ask.

As she entered the BAU, once more sided by Mansfield and Sheppard, she couldn't help but fill the metaphoric chill in the air. Something had happened and her gaze automatically found Hotch's office. His door was closed.

"We have a case," JJ said from behind her, as if it explained everything. Maybe it did.

Taking a deep breath, Emily followed JJ to the conference room and suddenly understood where the chill in the bullpen came from; it came from this exact room. Hotch sat still in his chair, but Emily could almost see the little thundercloud above his head. He looked tired and… furious. Frowning, her eyes traveled over the rest of the team; Morgan sent off waves of barely-controlled anger, Rossi looked preoccupied and Reid looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

Emily met JJ's eyes as she took a seat between Reid and Morgan, but JJ only gave her an almost imperceptible shrug from where she stood beside the screen.

"Guys, what's going on?" Emily asked. If something had happened she had a right to know!

After a few seconds of silence and of everyone avoiding looking at her, Hotch met her eyes briefly before his gaze darted away. "We have a case."

Emily smiled a bemused smile. "Yeah, JJ told me, is there something I should know…?"

It was Morgan who answered, and by the lethal look on Hotch's face, Emily guessed that something had happened between the two men. "Nope. We've decided to focus on this new case until we have more information concerning the threats on you."

Emily nodded. That made sense, she knew they was nothing more they could do until the UnSub made his move. "Okay, so what's the problem?"

Rossi spoke up. "There's no problem. JJ, I think we're ready to start."

For the following half-hour, JJ presented the cases of four murdered women in Colorado, but Emily had trouble concentrating with so much tension in the room. Reid seemed like the only one who really paid attention, and Emily herself had to shake herself out of her thoughts a number of times and refocus her attention on the case. Hotch, Morgan and Rossi were uncharacteristically quiet, only speaking up to ask questions or demand further details, but they never spoke directly to each other.

When the meeting was over, Hotch requested that they leave in 10 minutes. Emily approached him warily as everyone stormed out of the room.

He barely looked at her when she called his name. "Ten minutes, Prentiss. Don't be late," he said curtly as he grabbed his files and walked away.

Emily flinched at his coldness. Maybe he was mad at her for leaving details out of the report after all? He seemed okay with it before – a little disappointed that she hadn't been totally truthful maybe - but he'd definitely looked like he understood her reasons. And what was going on with Morgan? It was no secret that these two often butted heads, but this seemed different than their usual alpha male confrontations.

Confused and a little hurt, Emily was no less determined to figure out what was going on, so she gathered her stuff and walked out to meet with the others.

Despite the four murders and the constant rush of adrenaline that came with searching for a serial killer, it felt good to feel safe (or safer) for a while. Emily doubted that her 'admirer' would follow her to Colorado on such short notice, so she allowed herself to relax a little and tried to stop looking over her shoulder and actually focus on the job.

The tension of the morning had remained throughout the flight – no banter between Morgan and Garcia when they video-conferenced, no joking at Reid's expense – only cold professionalism. It had almost been too much to bear.

Once at the station, Hotch had sent her with Rossi to interview one of the victims' family, while Reid and Morgan went to the first crime scene and he and JJ talked to the local police. Emily couldn't help a sigh of relief as she climbed into the passenger seat of their SUV next to Dave.

Rossi heard her and threw her a look, but remained silent as he started driving. After a few minutes of silence, Emily just had to say something. "You're not going to tell me?"

"We need to focus on the case."

Emily let out a humorless chuckle. "Yeah, well that's a little difficult when Hotch and Morgan are at each other's throats."

He sighed. "They argued."

"About?"

"About taking this case."

Emily frowned. "I don't understand. Doesn't Hotch usually make that decision based on JJ's recommendation?"

He nodded. "Except that this time Hotch didn't want to take the case at all. And the rest of us did."

Emily waited for him to say more, but when he didn't she rolled her eyes in exasperation. God! It was like pulling teeth! "Why Rossi, why didn't Hotch want to take this case?"

"He thought we should focus on finding your stalker first."

Emily frowned. "But… until we know more there's not much we can do, right? Better to use our expertise for someone who needs it more urgently, don't you think?"

"Oh I agree with you, and so does Morgan. Hotch apparently doesn't see it this way."

Emily sighed. That wasn't like him, what was going on in that brilliant mind of his, she wondered?

"He just wants to make sure you're safe," Dave said after a few seconds, as if reading her thoughts.

"I know that, and I'm thankful for it, really, but I'm much safer here, working with you guys, than I would be in some hotel room in DC or Quantico."

"You have to understand, Hotch is… He just doesn't like to feel powerless, and this UnSub – with the waiting game and forced inaction – he's really getting to him. That's Hotch's one weakness as a profiler; he can't stand it when he can't protect those he cares about."

"Can you blame him, after what happened to Haley?"

"Of course not. I'm just giving you my opinion on why he's been acting this way."

Emily blew out a long breath. She felt like she had to talk to him, reassure him somehow, but she wasn't sure that he would let her.

"Can we focus on the case now?" Rossi asked.

"Yes sir."

The next three days were spent working almost non-stop on the serial murder case, and slowly the tension between Hotch and Morgan abated. Emily tried a few times to broach the subject with Hotch, but he still kept her at arms-length, avoiding working with her directly and pairing her up with either Rossi or Reid. She was getting a little frustrated at his coldness and aloofness, but until he actually let her talk to him, there was not much she could do except focus on the job.

On the third day, the UnSub finally got sloppy at the fifth crime scene and in his usual heroic flash of brilliancy, Reid noticed a pattern that had eluded everyone so far. That broke the case and hours later Morgan and Rossi arrested a suspect and the team managed to piece together enough evidence for the local police to make the arrest official.

Their job was done.

On the flight back, another opportunity to talk to Hotch presented itself. Everyone was sleeping except for Emily, who kept shifting positions in her seat, still too wired to settle her mind. As she rose to get her novel from her bag, she noticed that Hotch wasn't sleeping either. He was sitting by himself at the back, looking out the window, lost in thought.

Emily observed him quietly from where she stood, debating with herself whether she should go to him. With his forehead forlornly resting against the cabin wall, almost completely in the dark except for the string of lights coming from the alley floor, he looked utterly lonely and sad. Emily's heart sank at the sight, her stomach knotting painfully with guilt and helplessness. She was pretty sure that he wouldn't tell her if she asked what was wrong, but still, she could be a friend to him and remind him that she was there if he needed her. She went to make herself some tea, and she returned with two cups, silently handing one to Hotch as she stepped at his side.

For a funny second his eyes followed the arm holding the cup in front of his nose, but then he straightened up and tensed when his gaze reached her face and he realized it was her. Still, he took her peace offering with a small 'thanks,' so Emily sat down across from him.

"I couldn't sleep," she said before taking a careful sip of hot tea.

He nodded, but remained quiet, making Emily want to roll her eyes. But then she remembered how lonely and tormented he'd looked minutes before, so she looked out the window into the dark night and deliberately avoided looking at him.

"I know we're going to find him, Hotch," she said quietly after a few moments of silence.

That seemed to get his attention as she could suddenly feel his grave gaze on her face, but Emily kept her eyes stubbornly focused on the darkness outside their small plane.

"I thought we already had," he replied.

She smiled wanly. "I'm not talking about our last case."

For a beat Emily could only hear the engines and Reid's gentle snoring.

And then…"Not until he makes another move," Hotch admitted quietly, painfully, and at that moment Emily heard it: his fear that waiting meant risking being too late. The fact that he doubted himself and the team scared the crap out of her, but she tried to slow down the suddenly hectic beat of her heart and took a deep breath.

"There's nothing you can do about that, except for what you're already doing."

"It's not enough."

Emily's eyes tore away from the dark sky at this and as she turned her head in his direction she suddenly met his dark and penetrating gaze. The intensity made her breath catch in her throat, but her voice was determined when she spoke. "It is to me." He looked away at this, but Emily pressed on. "You don't have to prove anything to me, or this team, or to whoever it is that sent those stupid photos."

"It's not about some male bravado, Prentiss, it's not about proving anything. To anyone." His voice was low and intense, but Emily could hear the emotion in it, and it both amazed and frightened her. She hadn't seen him this emotional for a few months now, and it was freaking her out as much as it pleased her that he trusted her enough to open up, albeit reluctantly. While his voice was deep and almost cracking, his gaze was most definitely not hesitant; Emily had to stop herself from squirming in her seat. She'd never seen him look at her this way before, and she wasn't sure what had prompted such intensity from him; it was almost like he was simultaneously infuriated with her and longing for… something. Whatever it was, it left her breathless and she had to resist looking away.

"What's it about, then Hotch?" she pressed quietly, sounding a little breathless to her own ears.

He tilted his head a tiny fraction, as if to see her better, but his stare never wavered. "It's about protecting my team, Prentiss, people I care about. It's about doing everything in my power not to loose someone I-" He stopped himself and finally his eyes darted down, but only for a second. When they returned to hers the thick wall was up again. "It's about making sure the members of my team are safe."

Emily nodded dumbly, but his emotional declaration left her tongue-tied. Did he just tell her he cared about her? That he didn't want to lose her? While she knew that he did care about her and about the team, she had never in a million years thought that he would ever tell her. And she wasn't sure what to make of that.

He must have seen her expression change from 'tell me more' to 'wtf,' because he suddenly tensed and turned away from her, looking out the window. "Get some rest, Prentiss."

Emily recognized a dismissal when she heard one, so she rose sharply to her feet, annoyed at herself for reacting the way she had. But she was angry at him too, angry that he felt the need to act as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Damn it, it wasn't! Emily felt like shaking him, or slapping him to make him snap out of his self-induced guilt. But she knew it was useless. He wouldn't rest until they found the guy and Emily was starting to wonder if perhaps he was getting a little too involved in the case to be objective and rational about it.

Oh, the irony of saying that about him!

One thing for sure though, she was done talking, and it was somebody else's turn to get their heads bitten off.

On their return to D.C., Emily found herself staying at the hotel again. There had been no more threats or any sign of the UnSub during their absence, but Hotch was still adamant about her not staying at home. Emily was used to living in her trunks, but she was starting to get a little frustrated with the arrangements and Hotch's sternness – not to mention that she really missed home-cooked dinners.

On Friday, Rossi and Hotch went to interrogate Fergusson and Cregg, the two suspects on their list of three who were incarcerated. But apparently nothing came out of it, as neither Hotch nor Rossi could tell whether the two really didn't know anything or if they were just too good at this. They both fit the profile, which emphasized intelligence, so they were both more than capable to play even two of the brightest profilers of their time.

On Saturday, Emily decided to return to the BAU even though she technically had the day off. But she couldn't spend the day doing nothing at the hotel, and if she wanted to go somewhere she had to be accompanied by either Mansfield or Sheppard. She felt stranded and vulnerable, and she hated it.

So she spent the day going over the three case files again, hoping to see something that would help in finding the location of the UnSub. Each of the remaining three suspects fit the profile, but Emily kept returning to Norland's file as it sat on her desk, as if taunting her. Of the three, he made the most sense to her, and with what happened that day in front of his shabby shed, Emily was becoming more and more certain that he was the one after her. As much as she hated it, she had created a personal connection with him not only at that moment but also during the course of the investigation, and while she had been able to 'let it go' as Hotch had told her to, she didn't expect a sexual sadist to forget such a near-miss. It probably haunted him. Obsessed him. Especially as she had challenged him.

Fighting a shiver of revulsion, she grabbed her phone and dialed.

"Hotchner."

"Hotch, it's Emily. Sorry to disturb you, I-"

"What's wrong, where are you?"

Emily rolled her eyes. "I'm fine Hotch, nothing happened, I'm at the BAU."

"Oh. What are you doing at work?"

"Going over the files again. Got two words for you: Steven Norland."

"You think he's our UnSub?"

"The more I think about it, the more I… Yeah… I'm pretty sure."

"Because of what he said to you?"

Emily nodded, even though he couldn't see it. "Yeah, and because I didn't get as close with the others. This one… was really personal, I think especially for him."

"Okay, do you need me to come over? Ouch, hold on a second," Emily smiled as she heard the high-pitched voice of his son, and then the muffled sound of Hotch saying: "Jack, no soccer ball in the house… No, we've already discussed that… I'll go outside with you in a second…" Then his voice returned to the normal volume as he refocused his attention on her. "Sorry, do you need me to come over?"

"Soccer in the house, huh?" she asked teasingly, but then she remembered that he hadn't been all that friendly lately so she held her breath, berating herself.

"It's always more fun where there's expensive stuff to hit, I guess," he replied easily and Emily's smile widened. Finally!

"No need to come over Hotch, enjoy showing your son how it's done. I'll go over Norland's file again, see if there's anything that could help us figure out where he'd be hiding."

"Let me know what you come up with."

"Will do."

When she had first met Norland, it had been during the investigation of the rape and murder of five women in Nevada. The women were all in their thirties, single and busy with their jobs. They had all been found badly mutilated, so the team had concluded that the UnSub kept them for a certain amount of time, sometimes as long as a week. But they had also profiled that he probably stalked his victims for a while before approaching them, so that when he did, it was as the man of their dreams. In an eerily short amount of time, he'd learn everything about them; what music they liked, what type of food, who their friends were, if a boyfriend was around, and he could generally tell what they looked for in a man so that he could play that role. And that was the part he enjoyed, probably as much as the torture. The waiting game, the pretending, the seduction...until he had them at his mercy, at which time all hell broke loose.

The case had been creepy and disturbing, but their profile had finally allowed them to narrow down the list of suspects to two, and Emily had even interrogated him – with Hotch, she now remembered. The interrogation had led to nowhere, but Emily could recall the not-so-subtle glances that Norland kept sending her way. Hotch had noticed too, but they'd both tacitly decided not to give Norland the pleasure of letting him see how it affected her, and how it poked at Hotch's sense of protection. It wasn't until the DNA results came back positive on that one hair, that they'd gone after him a second time, this time with a warrant to search his property. They had been so close to getting him, too…

What would a man like him do now, after months of hiding from the police and the FBI? Methodical, intent on revenge, with sadistic compulsions towards women… Were there any new victims out there that they didn't know of? He was certainly waiting for something, but Emily didn't know what. Was he waiting for Hotch to relieve some of his tight control over her security, for her to let go of her vigilance for a fraction of a second? For something else?

God, it was creepy, especially as she was pretty sure that he was fantasizing about doing what he did to these women to her. The thought made her nauseous.

She almost jumped out of her skin when her cell rang. Checking the id, she recognized the name as belonging to her new romantic prospect. The cute guy from Canada, as Garcia had said. Hell yeah.

Emily picked up. "Matt, hi!"

"Emily, is this a bad time?"

"No, no I could use a break. What's up?"

"Well, when you didn't call me back after you canceled last week, I- I guess I just want to make sure that it wasn't something I did, or said, because sometimes I can get very geeky, and it's-"

Emily smiled as she interrupted. "It's nothing like that, Matt. It's um… work-related. I can't discuss it, but, let's just say I'm not available at the moment."

The line went silent for a moment. "Oh. Are you seeing someone else? Because if you are, just let me know and I'll-"

"Oh no, no! I didn't mean… I didn't mean 'available' in that sense. Let's just say… that I'm out of town for a few more weeks."

"Weeks?"

"Well days. I don't know, maybe weeks. Like I said, it's work-related." Emily kicked herself… She sounded way too distant. She had to remedy that. "But… if you want to… call me and talk, or something… Until we can actually reschedule…"

"I'd like that."

"Great. Great!"

"So, um… how long of a break are you taking right now?"

Emily grinned. "My boss isn't around… as long as I want."

Three more weeks passed and still no news on the UnSub/Norland. Meanwhile, things returned to normal – or as normal as they got in their line of work – except that Emily still resided in hotels, rotating between four of them. As much as she missed her own bed and home-cooked meals, she was starting to get used to the smell of bleached hotel sheets, and all things considered it was probably better than to live with her mother, which could potentially place her in danger too.

In an ironic reversal of situation, Hotch seemed to have gotten his worry under control after their plane conversation whereas Emily was starting to feel like crawling out of her skin. The constant looking over her shoulder was starting to get to her and, as much as she could accept on a rational level that there wasn't much she could do except play it safe, a part of her was more than ready for action, to stop waiting for something that might never happen and just do something. She was fine when she was at work, having something to focus on and feeling safe surrounded by tight security and her team. But at night, when she got to her hotel room, alone, her imagination started working overtime – she checked closets, behind the shower curtain, under the bed over and over – and she had to constantly remind herself that Mansfield or Sheppard were next door, taking turn at keeping watch. But she slept with her gun under her pillow and her restlessness and paranoia kept her awake late into the night, sometimes through the night. In moments like this, her heart would swell in relief at the first lights of dawn. Everything seemed so much clearer when it was light.

She tried to hide the fact that sleepless nights were starting to take their toll on her while she was at work, and so far no one had commented on the dark circles under her eyes, but she was aware that she was slowly becoming jumpy and moody. All of a sudden she could empathize with Hotch's feelings of powerlessness.

Speaking of Hotch, he was still acting stern and driven, but no more so than before all this started. He still acted tense around her, but Emily had more or less given up trying to make him open up and decided to go with the team policy to never profile each other and steered clear of Hotch's path. That had seemed to work so far and they'd been able to work efficiently, albeit a little coldly.

Her calls with Matt had also become kind of a regular thing, the only thing that seemed normal in her life at the moment. She really wished they could meet again, because she seriously needed some light conversation that would take her mind off other things. As far as Emily knew, there were no restrictions on her dating someone, so she was hoping to be able to schedule another date. It wasn't like she was in a witness protection program or anything, and she figured that if she told Sheppard and Mansfield, then they could accompany her – from a distance, of course. She was starting to know her two FBI detail pretty well – Sheppard usually watched over her during the day when she wasn't at work, and Mansfield had taken up night watch, during which they'd spent a few nights playing cards when Emily couldn't handle being alone.

Emily was just about to leave for the day, joking with Mansfield about Sheppard's most recent disastrous date, when her cell beeped. It was Hotch, asking that she meet him in his office before she left.

Telling Mansfield that she'd be back in a few minutes, she turned around and walked back into the BAU, crossed the bullpen and knocked on Hotch's door.

"Come in."

"What's up?" she asked as she opened the door. He seemed surprised to see her respond so quickly to his call, but then gestured her in.

"Prentiss, come on in, have a seat."

Emily frowned warily as she took a seat. "Okay…"

"How are you doing, Emily? We haven't talked in a while."

Emily almost snorted. This coming from the man who kept avoiding her, who ran as fast as he could as soon as she so much as said hello? The only times he'd been easier with her was when they spoke on the phone. She opened her mouth to retort some sarcastic comment, but the look on his face stopped her. There was something almost… wistful in the way he steadily gazed at her.

It totally confused her. She could deal with severe and cold, but this... this she'd never experienced and it left her breathless and not a little bemused. "Hotch?"

He cleared his throat. "You're aware that we put out an APB for Norland, right?"

Emily nodded, eyes wide, suddenly dreading where this was going.

"Local police responded earlier today, but failed to apprehend the suspect. Of course we can't be sure that it's him, but…"

"Where?"

"Georgetown."

Emily rose to her feet and started pacing, wringing her hands together. "Do you think it was intentional?"

"I don't know."

"Damn it! I swear to God, if we don't find the son of a -"

"We can't be sure whether he meant for someone to see and report him," he quietly interrupted, "but whatever his intentions, this is a good reminder that we can't let our guards down."

Emily shook her head in frustration. "I'm getting sick of his game."

"I know."

"Isn't there anything we can do? Maybe if we set him up? You could use me as bait and -"

"No."

Emily turned to face him. "Hotch, we need to do something, maybe if we provoke him, he'll do something reckless, and-"

"No!"

Emily pursed her lips in frustration as she stared at him, but he merely held her gaze steadily, without blinking.

"It's a good idea, you know it is. I'm a trained FBI agent, I can take care of myself."

"No. I'm not going to let one of my agents risk her life like this again."

Again?

Emily put aside her confusion – she couldn't remember any of them acting as bait, was he referring to something that occurred before her time? She started pacing again, feeling Hotch's gaze follow her across the length of his office. "If we planned this right, I wouldn't be risking my life. Because you guys would be there to watch my back."

"You know as well as I do that situations like that are unpredictable. Anything could happen and if our profile is correct and Norland's our UnSub, then that anything could turn out to be the stuff of nightmares. I'm not willing to take that chance."

"I am!" Emily cried, and then sighed in defeat as she saw his unfazed expression.

"You can't be objective about this, Prentiss."

"Oh and you can?"

"No," he replied truthfully, "none of us can, and this is why I'm not going to allow it."

Emily held his stare for a few seconds, but seeing that he wasn't going to flinch, she backed down. "Fine. See you tomorrow."

With that she stormed off, all the while shaking her head in anger and frustration. Why wouldn't he even consider it? It was a good idea, and she was getting to the point when she'd much rather risk her life and play bait than do nothing while constantly watching over her shoulder.

Meeting Mansfield just outside the bullpen, she nodded and grabbed her phone.

And called Matt.

End part 3, stay tuned for some recklessness on Emily's part ;-) Anyways, thanks for reading, I hope this is still up to your expectations!