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The Zero Hour

Chapter Four

Emily woke up in a cold sweat, memories of her case that involved Ian Doyle had been haunting her nightmares. Breathing hard, her eyes searched the room and listened for any sound that could be someone in her apartment. Throwing off the covers she made her way to the bathroom. In the morning she would call Sean and see if there was any more news about the whereabouts of Ian Doyle because she couldn't stand living this way.

Knowing that someone was more than likely out to kill her made her rethink her whole life, the emptiness of not being married or having kids seemed worse suddenly. She wanted something more in her life. Maybe not marriage anytime soon or even a child but just more than her job and a social life that she could barely get around to because of her work.

Emily ached for love. For a man to look at her like she was making his life so much better. The reason she had went to Spencer that night was because, out of all the men in her life, she felt most like she would be comfortable with him when she was hurting. He would understand her pain.

It also didn't hurt that she'd always had a little fascination with the nerdy genius. A nerd at heart herself she felt a kinship with him, found him strange at times but sexy and mysterious, enjoyed teasing him and imagining that one day she'd just plant a kiss on him to see his reaction. Though she wouldn't say she was harboring deep feelings for him beyond friendship she could admit that, of all the men on the team, he was the only who she ever fantasized about hooking up with.

And, lets face it, the men on her team were the men in her life that she was closest to. All other men just didn't get it- get her and what it was like to live her lifestyle- even if they worked in the FBI too. There was something about the team that made their whole lives, even outside work, intertwine around each other socially and emotionally. They needed each other to stay sane.

She needed Spencer lately more than she ever had before.

Emily had the feeling, just like she felt the night she went to him for sex, that if she asked him to help her out then he would do so but her independence warred with her need and kept her from reaching out to him- leaving her shaking in the shower as she listened for unfamiliar sounds in her apartment, the sound of a killer coming to try to steal away all her chances to have more in this life.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Spencer Reid was a worrier, by nature. He worried about his health, his career, how people looked at him, his mother's sanity and happiness, his friends, his accomplishments and his lousy love life. So naturally he had worried that sleeping with Emily would make things weird between them from now on.

That hadn't happened in the more than a week since they had been together but that didn't mean he wasn't still worried. He was sure that something had her freaked out, possibly that she was being stalked. Her behavior was indicative of it.

That night, while they were in Detroit on a case, they were walking from the SUV towards the hotel when she quickly spun around, as if she heard someone sneaking up on her.

Morgan asked "What?" with an eyebrow cocked.

She shook her head, wearily. "This case is just creeping me out." Hurrying past them she hitched her go back higher on her shoulder and disappeared into the hotel.

Morgan looked at Reid. "Is it me or is she seriously jumpy lately? Wonder what her problem is?"

Reid just shook his head, in a way that silently said "Who knows," and then went into the hotel.

After going to his room he unpacked his suitcase and then left his room again, ending up at Emily's hotel door, which was very unusual for him to do ever. He certainly never visited her room for anything not work related before.

He rapped on the door and heard her come close to the door to look out the peephole. He gave her a wave. She opened the door. As she did, she shoved her gun back in her holster.

Trying to act like she wasn't tense she smiled at him and asked "To what do I owe this honor?"

He was holding a portable chess set in one hand. He nodded at it. "Thought you might be up for a game."

"Aren't you wiped out? Its been a long day."

He raised his eyebrows in unison. "No, not in the least."

She moved aside and he walked in. Emily said "All right but I want a handicap."

"For being a girl?"

She playfully kicked his leg. "You'll pay for that crack one day when you least expect it."

Reid smiled slightly, as he set the chess game up on the table. "I don't give handicaps in chess. It discourages learning and striving for excellence."

"I was just joking. Besides, I plan to beat you fair and square."

"First time for everything."

She muttered, under her breath, in a teasing way. "Asshole."

"What was that?" he teased back.

"I said Prepare to have your winning streak broken."

"Eidetic memory and no hearing problems so I know you didn't say that and, anyway, that statement is just foolish. The odds of you beating me are infinitesimal. "

She rolled her eyes. Emily took her gun and set it on the dresser, within her reach, and then sat across from Spencer at the table.

They played for a while before she rested her chin on her hand, stared him down, during his turn and asked "So, is this a date?"

His eyes jerked up. He coughed. "Date?" He pulled at his collar. "What? This wouldn't be much of a date."

"Oh, I don't know about that. A date is what you make it, really," she flirted with him.

He swallowed hard and his eyes darted to the bed, which made her bite back a smile. Then she ran her hand over his. "Dr. Reid, your time has just about ran out."

They had a timer for each turn.

"Oh, right!" He looked down and made a move.

She smiled widely and said "Checkmate," as she took her turn.

He glared at her. "Hey! That's cheating! You played me."

She threw her head back and laughed. He smiled back at her.

After a moment he asked "So, when are you going to tell Hotch?"

Warily, she asked "Tell Hotch what?"

"That you're being stalked."

She laughed nervously, as she got up from the table and busied herself with opening the mini bar to get a drink. "Why don't you clock out and quit profiling for the day? Its after five, if you haven't noticed."

"I notice everything. I'm a genius. And I've noticed your behavior lately. Its out of character. You're jumpy and you are not the jumpy type. Now me? I'm the jumpy type."

"You do all right for yourself. In this job if you're not looking over your shoulder you either have a death wish or are seriously in denial about what kind of evil lurks out in the world." She cracked open a small bottle of alcohol and drank straight from it. "Want something? There's water, soft drinks, whatever."

"No thanks. Do you know the mark up on items in a mini bar is usually over a thousand percent? Its highway robbery." His eyes lit up. "That term originated before there were, technically, what we think of as highways now. Though there were well traveled main roads. Oddly enough, some of the first highway robbers referred to themselves as gentleman robbers or knights of the roadway, when, if you think about it, that is pretty ironic, right?"

She smirked. "If you say so."

"Because they weren't gentleman at all. They were thieves."

"I get it."

There eyes held for a long moment. She finished the small bottle of booze. The moment quieted. Reid said "Emily, let me help you with whatever is making you look over your shoulder constantly."

She started to unbutton her shirt. "There's one way you can help me."