AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks for all the kind words. They are appreciated.

Let me warn you in advance that as this story goes along, I will be taking quite a few character liberties as far as JJ's family background. I feel that they are necessary and I will do everything I can to keep them true to the character as presented on-screen.The timeline of the central part of this story - the here and now - is sometime after S2, before S3, but as of right now with ASHES AND DUST being the last episode of canon. After that, well it's my jungle.

Additionally, I admit that I don't quite know the rules of how agents are promoted or things like that so I am taking some dramatic creative license. And finally, this section comes in at a PG rating, but this story will get MUCH darker.

Again, thank you and I hope you enjoy.


April, 2000

"Wow, are you serious? The FBI? Why?" Amanda asked, her big brown eyes wide with curiosity, but a hint of disapproval as well. "I mean I thought you were going to go for one of the internships like the rest of us?" She was kicking around a soccer ball, bouncing it off her knees, not even paying attention, just doing it. She was talented like that.

Jennifer Jareau smiled, knowing full well that she had no chance of explaining this to her school buddies. Her family hadn't reacted well to the announcement and they'd known her reasons? Her friends? No chance. She knew that not even the roommate who had been her best friend for almost four years would understand.

Mostly because things were different now. So terribly different.

Abruptly, without warning, and unbeknownst to Amanda, three weeks earlier, their worlds had changed, separated.

They were no longer just two girls from the middle of the country who had found their way into college because of their skill at kicking a ball around. They were no longer just two small-ltown girls against the world.

The truth of the matter was, JJ no longer felt like a girl at all.

And so instead, she said with a small shrug of her shoulders, "I guess, Los Angeles isn't my kind of place."

And that was a lie because not too long ago her dream had been to work the desk of a major television network newscast. She'd always figured that she'd start off at a station like KTLA in LA and go from there.

Maybe even one day move her way up to a national anchor chair.

Four words had changed that.

"But you'd be with us," Amanda insisted as the ball went up higher up in the air than she'd expected. JJ expertly fielded it, knocked it around a bit with her foot and then bounced it into her hands where she held it, spinning it between her fingers and palm. "You'd be with me," Amanda continued, almost like she was pleading with her best friend to reconsider her sudden and bizarre decision. " That was our plan, J. That's always been our plan. To do it together, right? Just you and me."

And again, JJ smiled because though she'd never say it, the amount in common she had with her college friends had shrunk to almost nothing thanks to those four words, delivered to her over Spring break.

"I know," she replied. "I just… I can't explain it, Mandy, but I need to do this. I have to do this."

And that was true because those words had changed more than her hopes and dreams, but also her. They had changed her in a way that seemed to make everything so terribly clear. Including her purpose. Her life, which up until that point, even with her illusions of fame, had always been rather foggy and vague. Go to LA, impress a few people and hope for the best. It was all kind of sketchy after that.

Now though…

Four heartbreaking words had brought her perfect clarity. So much in fact that she knew it would be impossible to explain without sounding crazed.

Four words spoken quietly, in a shaking voice too small to even be called a whisper.

Four simple words.

"Your parents were murdered."

July, 2007.

Her first thought upon entering the building that the famed Behavioral Analysis Unit was housed in was, "Hotch is going to have my ass." Because traffic from her house had been hideous, because the line at the Starbucks had been too long and because her blankets had been entirely too warm, she was already running almost forty minutes behind.

Which beyond being unusual for her, meant that according to her watch, she was already almost twenty minutes late for a meeting with her boss, FBI Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

Hotch wasn't nearly as anal retentive as everyone thought him, but he hated lateness. With something like a blind tearing passion.

Still, she tried to reason, it was a last minute meeting. He'd called late the evening before and told her that he needed to speak to her first thing in the morning. Hardly unusual, just a bit cramping when it came to her typical morning traditions and rhythms.

For some damn reason, her mind hadn't remembered the meeting until after she'd spent an extra five minutes curled up in bed. And the line at Starbucks, well she figured she could have jumped out of it, but once she'd realized that she was already late, it'd seemed a good idea to not make the day even worse by cutting caffeine out.

"Morning, JJ," Spencer Reid called out as she entered the bullpen. He was smiling slightly, that cute awkward little one that he had. Normally she'd have stopped by his desk to chat with him, to watch that awesome brain of his spin and cycle, kicking out some of the most bizarre and yet oddly fascinating things that she'd ever heard.

But she was just about twenty-two minutes late now and if she listened hard enough, if she inclined her head just a bit towards his office, well she thought she could hear the sound of steam pouring from Hotch's ears.

"Hey, Spence," she replied, hoping like hell that she didn't sound like she was blowing him off, but knowing that there was no way that she couldn't have.

He seemed to get the message that she was in a hurry and didn't say anything else, just rocked back in his chair and sipped his coffee. A quick thought, one she certainly didn't have time for, went streaking through her mind. She wondered what cup he was on. Because addicts went from drug to drug, she imagined he was already around five.

Well at least, she reasoned, this one wouldn't take him from them.

She shook the thought off. She could watch him later when she had more time for it. When she wasn't already twenty-three minutes late. Moving away from Reid, she quickly ascended the stairs towards Hotch's office on the second level. The door was closed.

She paused just outside the door for just a second and then, after taking a deep breath, she finally knocked. Rapidly. Three quick knuckle taps.

"Come in." Yep, she heard the irritation. She winced involuntarily.

Again, damn, damn, damn.

She pushed the door open and stepped in. "I'm sorry," she said quickly, almost before he could even see who had entered the room. She figured that she could have listed off the reasons that she was late, but decided not to. If Hotch hated tardiness, he abhorred excuses.

He nodded quickly, but his annoyance was obvious. When he spoke, there was something hard in his voice. "Shut the door and sit down."

"Okay," she replied, unable for all of her skills to hide her nervousness from him. Her mind very quickly went over the last few days, her work on the last case they'd been assigned to. Thinking back, she couldn't recall any mistakes she'd made. In fact, he'd complimented her on a job well done.

And yet, obviously, by the look on his face, she'd done something. It was a bit of a strange feeling, a little like a small child facing off against her disapproving father after she'd broken some prized possession of his.

She blinked and tossed that thought hastily away, almost before it formed. Hotch wasn't her father. He was her boss. Not a father, a boss.

"I got a call late last night from the Director," he told her, voice still cool, but perhaps a bit more conversational. His mood seemed to be lightening up, but there was still something there, like he was upset about something.

"Of the FBI?" she asked lamely, feeling a little foolish. He smiled slightly to acknowledge this, his lip quirking a bit in amusement. Which was odd, but she pushed on, because curiosity had gotten ahold of her "Why?"

"He's had a retirement on his staff. His personal press agent."

"Agent McCovey?" JJ asked. She'd attended every seminar that the senior and well respect agent had given over the last five years. In her mind, Agent Karen McCovey was about as brilliant as it got. The woman could spin anything she wanted into gold and usually within a second.

"Right. Her goodbye party will be next week and then after almost thirty years, well she'll be off to the Bahamas or something like that." There was something in his voice, something that sounded a little bit like envy.

"Okay…" She still wasn't quite understanding what this had to do with her. She wondered if she was being invited to McCovey's retirement party. She admitted to herself that that would be a hell of a score, this woman had big friends, the kind that could take you big places.

If that was where you wanted to go anyway.

"JJ, the Director wants you to take her position," Hotch told her suddenly, cutting to the chase. And when he did, it kind of felt like the air had been sucked from the room.

She blinked. "Excuse me." Again, her mind starting flying. Fast as lightning. She'd only been with the FBI for a few years. It was far too early for this.

"Agent McCovey recommended you."

"She did?" JJ said, feeling like her lips had suddenly gotten very fat. She knew McCovey, but it seemed unlikely that the woman knew her. Improbable even.

"She did," Hotch nodded. "She's apparently quite a fan of yours."

"Oh." It was all she could manage because in her head, none of this was making a lick of sense. Surely there had to be more experienced agents. Quite involuntarily, she found herself sneaking a look around Hotch's office, as if looking for Morgan. Maybe this was a practical joke…

"Apparently she's not the only one," Hotch continued. "The Director, well he's been watching you for awhile as well. He specifically mentioned your work on the Reese Briden case."

The Reese Briden case had been the one they'd just completed a week earlier. Based out of Seattle, Washington, he'd been a rather sadistic killer, one who liked to hang his victims from the ceiling off their bedrooms after he raped them. Once they'd discovered that he had been obsessed with how the media saw him and how afraid people were of him, It had been her job to get in front of the cameras and goad him into making a mistake. It'd been her job to infuriate him.

It'd been successful and he'd been caught almost effortlessly. Hopefully he'd be facing a needle soon enough. And if not that, steel bars for the rest of his natural life. Though in her mind, neither of those things came close to the amount of punishment he truly deserved.

Still, she thought to herself, pushing away her thoughts of vengeance, her work had hardly been unusual. Hardly novel. In fact, pissing off the bad guys almost seemed part of the job description now.

"I don't understand..." she finally managed.

"The director of the FBI wants you to join his staff," Hotch said simply. "It's a massive promotion, JJ. "

She nodded slowly, feeling like she was a bit disconnected from her body. Feeling almost like she was watching everything play out from just outside of herself. "When…when?"

"Two weeks from now. "

"Oh."

"He'd like to speak to you when you have a few minutes so that he can give you all the details. He's very excited about this."

"Okay."

"JJ?" Hotch said, leaning across his desk. "Are you alright? You've barely said more than two words at a time since we started this conversation."

She swallowed hard. Forced the words out. "Uh, yeah. Sorry. This is just…"

"A lot to take in. I know. But you deserve it. I told the Director that as well. In all of my years working as a DA and within this department, I have never had the pleasure of working with an agent as gifted in doing what you do as you are. You'll be stepping into a big pair of shoes, but I have no doubt in my mind that you'll excel every step of the way."

She blushed just a bit, had to look away. Then, finally, thickly, "Hotch, I'm not sure I want to leave here."

For a moment, he seemed shocked. His mouth opened and closed and JJ thought that he looked a little bit like a fish for a moment. She bit down on the absurd notion to laugh and instead waited for him to speak.

And finally he did. "JJ, believe me when I say that you'll be missed, but I don't…I wouldn't want us to stand between you and this opportunity."

"You think it would be a mistake not to take it?" Her voice small, again like a child. And once again she refused to allow the mental connection of his being a father figure to her.

He never hesitated though a large part of him wished he both could and would. "Yes, I think it would be a mistake."

"Okay," she said, going monosyllabic again. Hotch could see that she was still troubled.

"JJ?"

"I just, this job, Hotch, it gets into your blood. What we do, the difference we make. I'm not sure I know how to walk away from it."

"The job or the people?"

She smiled slightly, knowing that she'd been caught. "Both," she admitted. There was something unspoken there. Something he chose to leave alone because not only was now neither the time or the place for going into that, but also because when it came to one's personal demons, it was often best to let them broach the subject.

"Look, " he said gently. " Just go speak to the Director, listen to what he has to say. You'll have time to figure out everything else later."

Again, she nodded. "Okay. I'll...I'll call his secretary and see when I can set up a meeting."

"Good."

And that was it. The end of the meeting. Hotch lowered his eyes back to a paper on his desk. JJ stood up, glanced once back at Hotch and then exited, passing Jason Gideon as he entered the room.

"Sir."

"JJ," Gideon nodded, a smile on his lips telling her that he knew. She moved away quickly, down the stairs back towards the bullpen. "She thinking about declining the promotion?"

"I don't know," Hotch replied. "I'm not sure she knows what she's thinking yet. I'm sure it's all a bit overwhelming."

Gideon dropped down into the chair opposite Hotch. "It's hard," he said with a shrug. "Leaving."

"Harder for her."

"Yeah," Gideon acknowledged, placing a toothpick between his teeth and chewing it thoughtfully for a few moments. "But it would be a mistake for her to turn it down."

"That's what I told her."

"Yeah."

And for a moment, neither man said anything. Then, finally, Hotch asked, "Uh, was this what you came by for?"

"Oh, no. I just got sent a case from one of my friends over in San Diego. Four murders in the last six months. He's asked us to take a look." He handed over a folder which he'd been holding low against his body. Hotch opened it and flipped through it quickly, then looked up.

"Oscar Baron?" Hotch said, lifting an eyebrow. "One of your friends?"

"Mentor, friend," Gideon answered with a dismissive wave.

"Uh huh. Okay, give me a few minutes to look this over."

"Of course," Gideon replied, standing up. Then, turning back, he tacked on. "It would be a mistake." But he didn't so certain, almost like he was searching for confirmation of it.

"I know."

Then Gideon turned and exited, not needing to see the look of doubt on Hotch's face to know that it was there.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked from the doorway, a cup of steaming coffee clutched tight in his hand. With the amount of caffeine he'd ingested so far this morning, anyone else would be moving around like a Mexican jumping bean, but he seemed almost calm. Almost in control.

One addiction to the next. But this one was okay. This one was okay.

She looked up and flashed him her best smile. "Great," she lied. "Just tired. I think they only put one shot in my coffee. Maybe I should get some of yours. Quad shot?"

"At least," Reid replied with a grin as he stepped into the office and sat across from her, taking in the stacks upon stacks of casefiles that were scattered every which way. And somehow he knew that she knew exactly where everything was.

Because she was JJ and she was good at that kind of thing.

And yet he could see that she was troubled about something, her mind whirling, turning things over in her head. Maybe it was a new case…

But since she wasn't talking about it, he chose to change the subject, chose to go for humor instead. "You hear about Morgan's night?"

"No," she replied. "But let me guess, he went out, found himself a beautiful girl, wined and dined her and then took her back to his–"

"She lifted his wallet."

Before she could stop herself, she laughed. It was more an indelicate snort than a laugh, but either way it was unintentional. Reid saw her hand fly up to her mouth, as if to stop it from happening again. Then, "Really?"

"Yeah. They never got past the…wine and dine stage." JJ almost laughed again. For some reason it was strange hearing Reid say "wine and dine". He gave her a strange look, but continued. "Apparently she said she had to get home to take care of her dog, gave him her phone number and then took off. When he tried to pay for dinner-"

"He came up wallet-less," Emily Prentiss said as she entered. Good news -or in this case news that could be used to mock their co-workers with – tended to spread quickly. "And had to call me to bail his ass out."

"Ouch," JJ grinned, slouching a bit in her seat. She felt the tension and pressure roll away from her shoulders.

"One hundred and thirty-three dollars. She ordered lobster."

"Smart girl," JJ nodded. Emily smirked, also clearly approving.

"She's a crook," Reid squeaked. "You two sound almost-"

"Proud of her," Morgan sighed as he walked in. He seemed a bit dismayed to see that he'd been beaten to the punch. "Look, before this gets around everywhere…"

"Oh, no, Derek, there's no before. It's already everywhere. If I were you, I'd get to Garcia before she gets in. Let her hear it from you first. Because if she finds out from say Agent Anderson, well I think her photoshopped pictures of you in stirrups will be the last thing you have to worry about," Prentiss snorted, settling a hand lightly upon on his shoulder.

He groaned. Then, "Wait. Stirrups?"

The girls laughed. Reid just looked mildly confused.

"Look," Morgan tried to justify. "It can happen to anyone."

"Sure," JJ nodded. "Anyone who isn't paid to be able to see through conmen and women."

He threw her a glare. She just grinned back at him.

"Tell me she at least had nice…" she made an upwards motion with her hands, right below her breasts. Reid made a deliberate decision not to look.

"Yeah," Morgan sighed, knowing that this wasn't going to go away anytime soon. Knowing that the girls would never let it go. And knowing that Prentiss was right, he had to get to Garcia before she heard from someone else, before she decided to have her own fun…

"Tell them about the phone number," Prentiss smirked. And this time she got the glare, which she seemed utterly unconcerned with.

"It was the answering machine for a phone sex line. Providing sixteen different numbers for different types of…services."

"I think she pegged you good, Derek," JJ grinned.

"So you are proud of her?" Reid asked with confusion. "Why?"

"Because," Emily told him. "It takes a massive pair of steel ones to order a thirty dollar lobster before ripping the guy off who's going to pay for it. And then to top it off by referring him to a sex line, well that's gold."

"You are far too amused with this," Morgan said, shaking his head.

"Yes, yes I am," Emily admitted.

"Good, you're all here," Hotch said as he, too, entered the room. Then, looking around at the group that was crammed into JJ's already too small office, he asked, "Why are you all in here?"

"We're talking about Morgan's love-life," JJ offered, to her credit trying to be subtle.

"Right," Hotch nodded before turning to Morgan and saying. "Have you canceled all of your credit cards yet?"

Morgan groaned.

"Hotch, what's up?" Emily asked, trying to bail him out.

"We may have a new case. Conference room in five."

"Great," Morgan said with a sigh of relief.

"Oh, no," Prentiss told him. "Even a case can't make this go away."

And he knew that was true. Shaking his head, he turned and exited the room, Prentiss close behind. Hotch glanced over at JJ, received a smile in response, one that seemed a lot more confident than he thought she was actually feeling. But it was enough for now so he, too, turned and left.

"You sure you're okay?" Reid asked suddenly.

JJ looked at him. She hated that he could read her so well. Even Hotch couldn't do that. Gideon either. But Reid…

"Of course," she said finally. Then, standing up. "Shall we?"

He nodded. He could tell that she was still bothered by something, but as it didn't seem to be serious, he decided that he could let it go for now. And so together, as arm in arm as they could get without actually being arm in arm, they exited the room.

He didn't miss the almost wistful glance she threw back at her office.

But wondering what it meant would have to wait.