"We have a problem," Emily said hurriedly to Gideon once they were a safe distance from the police station.

"What's wrong?"

"They think Noah did it."

"That's preposterous," Gideon retorted with an indignant snort.

"Not to the Capitaine. He's having his Lieutenant contact Interpol to see if there were similar murders in Italy while Noah was there."

"How would they know exactly when he was there? Like you said, you don't need to show your passport when crossing the border so there wouldn't be a stamp in it," he argued.

Emily gestured at the building. "We just told them he was in Italy, and sooner or later they will gain access to his credit card records and know exactly where's he's been. Here and in Italy," she added.

Gideon walked away a short distance. He was furious that the Paris police were actually considering his nephew as the prime suspect. It was utterly ridiculous. Noah was a kind and gentle young man. He would never hurt anyone, even in the heat of the moment. Since Dubois and his Lieutenant weren't here to be the targets of his anger, he took it out on the one who was present.

He marched back to Emily, pointing an accusing finger. "Why didn't you tell me about this before at the morgue?"

She gaped at him, unable to believe her ears. "What?"

"You heard me, Prentiss. You had every opportunity to tell me after we left the morgue, but instead you chose to withhold it. I thought we agreed that there wouldn't be any more secrets."

Emily's temper flared at the accusation. So much for getting along, it didn't even last a day. "We did and I didn't withhold anything. I just heard them discussing the possibility that Noah could be their killer. And back at the morgue? After you dropped your little bombshell, they were more upset that you had just set the case back to square one. They still had a body to identify."

What she didn't say was that she too had been slightly distracted by his announcement, but she had still caught the major highlights of the flics frantic discussion. Emily stopped herself from jabbing him with her own finger or grabbing his and breaking it.

"Don't tell me how to do my job, Gideon," she shot back. "I did exactly what you dragged me over here to do."

Gideon looked like he was about to say something he might later regret, but he took a step back and let out a slow breath. "I apologize, Prentiss. I shouldn't have taken my frustration out on you. I don't like the idea that Dubois is considering Noah as their prime suspect. You didn't deserve that."

Emily let go of her anger. "No. I didn't and I don't like it anymore than you do. And I haven't even met him yet. "She just hoped he wasn't a carbon copy of his uncle. "Just remember that I'm here to help, not to be your personal whipping boy."

"Understood." Then he let out a self-depreciating chuckle. "I seem to be apologizing to you quite a bit."

That's because you keep pissing me off, she thought. "That's okay," she lied. "I know you're very worried about your nephew."

"Very much so," he confessed. "We need to find him before they do and get him to the American embassy."

She nodded. "Right now we have the advantage. The flics will have to go through legal channels to get his credit card records. We don't. We have Garcia and by the end of the day we'll know where to start looking."

"But until that happens, there is nothing we can do."

"Unfortunately so."

Gideon sighed in frustration as he looked around. He didn't like this feeling of helplessness. He was a man of action. Sitting around on his hands waiting for something to happen grated on him. He needed to take the bull by the horns and wrestle with it until he got what he wanted. But here he was, seeing it from the other side of the coin, seeing everything through the eyes of the families. It was unsettling and he needed to do something…anything.

"I'm going for a walk," he abruptly announced. "I'll meet you back at the hotel."

Without waiting for an answer, he spun on his heels and marched off down the street, leaving a shocked Emily in his wake.

It took her a moment to recover from the surprise and shouted to his departing back. "Call if you get lost."

She wasn't sure if he had heard her, but he gave her a backward wave of his hand. Now it was Emily's turn to look around, and like Gideon, she was at a loss at what to do. Time was of the essence. They needed to find Noah before the police did, but they needed a jumping off point. So until Penelope finished her searches, their hands were tied. Emily briefly entertained the thought of calling the blonde analyst and giving her a little nudge since he had apparently gone from murder victim to prime suspect. But she didn't because Penelope was the best at what she did. She was the queen of multi-tasking, capable of running multiple searches for multiple people at the same time. She'll call as soon as she had anything.

Emily exhaled loudly as she ran a disappointed hand through her hair, deciding she might as well head back to the hotel. She opted to walk for part of the way and soak up some of the Paris atmosphere. If she hopped into the next available cab, she would end up staring at her phone for hours willing it to ring. But a watched phone never rings. With another exhalation, she headed off down the sidewalk in the opposite direction.

Ten minutes into her walk, the hairs on the back of Emily's neck stood up. Someone was watching her. She resisted the urge to turn around to check and kept walking, pretending that she didn't know. She knew it wasn't Gideon because he no longer had a reason to be slinking in the shadows. He had gotten her to do what he wanted. So whom does that leave? Her mind immediately jumped to the possibility that it was someone else from her past stalking her. As quickly as she had thought it, Emily dismissed it. It was simply her paranoia kicking in. The only other reason she could come up with was that Dubois had ordered it. Noah was their prime suspect and appeared to be hoping that they would lead the police directly to him.

Now that she was confident that it was the police following her, Emily had to figure out a way to identify her tail without alerting them. Her solution came in the form of a couple that stopped her and asked her in broken French if she could take a picture of them. Emily gladly obliged, for it put her in the position to look back down the street. It didn't take her long to spot, over the shoulders of the grinning couple, a man trying very hard to appear nonchalant and blend in with the pedestrians. His regulation haircut, dress and mannerisms screamed police. Emily snapped two more photos of the couple before continuing on her way. As she walked, she pulled out her cell phone and sent Gideon a text message.

Caution. You may have a second shadow.

His response came seconds later. I know.

She realized that he was fully aware of the latest development. The Paris police really needed to train their officers in the art of following persons of interest, especially if someone like Gideon spotted them. From her intense training with the CIA, Emily know that to be successful, you had to be one with your surroundings, not stick out like a sore thumb like hers was. If she had been doing the shadowing, her mark would have never known she was there.

Now that she had identified her tail, what was she going to do about it? For starters, she didn't want to lead him back to the hotel quite yet. She could shake him, but that could make Dubois and his lieutenant suspicious. They would assume she and Gideon were more than family worried about a loved one. They would be correct, but she didn't want them to know she was FBI until she was ready. That left Emily one option: to act like she was a tourist. So she decided to do something she hadn't planned on doing since they were only supposed to have been here for a day or two. Emily took her tail shopping.

As Emily stepped out of a used bookstore, her cell phone rang. She casually looked around for her shadow to make sure he wasn't close enough to eavesdrop on her phone call. He wasn't. He was across the street in a doorway looking bored out of his mind. For the past three hours he had watched Emily wander from store to store, shopping for unique gifts for her friends and family. In the bookstore Emily had just exited, she found an old volume of essays by many of France's enlightenment philosophers for Reid and for Derek a book on Savate, a form of French martial arts. It explained its history and showed the various moves, which he would no doubt demonstrate on her at one of their training sessions. Not wanting to be his defenseless guinea pig, she had picked up a copy for herself.

From the smaller sole proprietor stores, she picked up a dark blue French silk tie with a sky blue geometric design for Hotch. She found a very frilly, very pink, very Garcia couture umbrella for the colorful analyst. For JJ, a bottle of perfume that reminded Emily of the wildflowers that grew in the Alps. Emily couldn't exclude Will so she bought him a jar of truffle sea salt to amp up his Cajun cooking. Dave proved to be a bit harder and it took her some time to find what she hoped to be the perfect gift: a bottle of Chartreuse French liqueur. And finally for her mother: a mixed box of madeleines and macarons from her favorite patisserie.

The boys in her life were easier to do. She knew from experience that Jack and Henry would love anything she got them so she wanted their gifts to be unique. She had gone to a store that specialized in handmade wooden toys and other items. She got each boy a wooden sailboat, one with a blue hull and the other red. And for a few extra Euros she had their names in French, Jacques and Henri, painted on the stern. Sticking with the sailing theme, Emily picked up a 2000 piece non-locking wooden jigsaw puzzle for Russ. All three were too bulky to carry so she arranged to have them shipped to Dave's.

As she was leaving it occurred to her that she should get something for Declan, even though she wouldn't be able to give it to him in person. Since he loved building models airplanes, she got him a kit for a SPAD French bi-plane. Derek's words echoed in her head as she made arrangements to ship the gift to the boy's home address. With Doyle dead, there wasn't any reason why she couldn't visit him, but she still hadn't made any effort to see him. Declan had a good life and was better off without her in it. He was happy and so was she. She paused. Was she really? Doubt began to nibble at her resolve that Derek had been right that she had made the wrong decision. Emily shook her head to dispel the notion. No. She had done the right thing by staying away. Tom and Louise would make sure Declan got the model kit without mentioning whom it had come from.

She checked the screen before answering and when she saw the analyst's name, she placed the phone to her ear. "Hey, PG," she greeted warmly.

"Hey, Emster. Is the City of Light treating you well?" Concern echoed in her voice.

Emily didn't sigh this time because she had known it was coming. It was a refrain that she would just have to get used to whenever she talked to the team while she was here. It was touching and frustrating at the same time.

"It's treating me well and vice versa. I just spent a boatload of money."

"Shopping?" Penelope exclaimed. "You went shopping and without me? That's like a cardinal sin. I expect souvenirs. And hey, how do you have time to shop? Shouldn't you be off playing Sherlock?"

She smiled at the second Sherlock Holmes reference of the day. Perhaps she should get herself an Inverness cape, a deerstalker cap and a briar pipe. "I can't because Watson hasn't given me anything yet that I can use as a starting point."

"I'm your Watson?" she responded, obviously flattered.

"Uh huh."

"What does that make Gideon?"

"The annoying client."

Penelope chuckled. "Is he being his normal self?"

"Yes," Emily said, pincing the bridge of her nose. "I had forgotten how frustrating he could be."

"Oh. I know that feeling well," Penelope commiserated, remembering the time he had hurt his leg and had been forced to work from Quantico and her office. "He just comes in and takes over, touching things he shouldn't, moving things around…" she went off on a tangent, making it clear to Emily that she knew the frustration well.

Emily waited for the blonde to take a breath and cut in. "Did you find what I asked for?"

"Indeedy I did. I pulled up the last couple of months worth of statements. Everything was hunky dory until about two weeks ago when everything just stopped. No credit card activity or phone calls. The phone doesn't appear to be on so I can't pinpoint its location."

"That's because it spent some time in the Seine."

"That would do it. Cell phones and water do not mix. People need to stop trying to teach their electronics to swim."

Emily chuckled. "They only end up drowning."

"Righto. Anyhoo I'll send it all to your tablet."

"I don't have my tablet with me."

There was a deep inhalation of breath. "That's the second cardinal sin you've broken today, Em. I can't believe you left home without it."

"Hey, this trip was only supposed to last a few days," Emily argued in her defense. "So I packed lightly. I also hadn't planned on shopping."

"Then why are you?"

"Because I wanted to bore my tail to tears before heading back to the hotel."

There was another sharp intake of breath. "You're being followed? By who and why?"

"The flics. The Capitaine is hoping we lead him to Noah who, over the past few hours, has become their number one suspect."

"They want to arrest him?"

"Not if we can help it. Just send everything to my phone."

"It's on its way."

"Great. What about the unknown number?"

Penelope hit a few keys and brought it up on her computer screen. "I'm afraid it's a prepaid phone so I can't trace it. If it is turned back on, I will be able to tell you what tower it pinged off of, but nothing closer," she apologized.

"That's okay, Pen. I know you are doing your best." She checked her mailbox for the email. "Because of you, I'm now one step closer to finding Noah than I was a few minutes ago."

"Aw shucks," she blushed. "I'll let you get back to your shopping. Buy me something pretty."

Emily laughed. "I already have. Au revoir, Mon'Amie."

She hung up and checked on her shadow. He was still across the street trying too hard to be inconspicuous. Emily had one more stop to make before heading back to the hotel. She wanted to ship the gifts for the team home so she didn't had to lug them on the plane and get bogged down in customs. As she started walking, Emily briefly considered blowing her shadow's cover and have him make himself useful and carry some of her packages. It would have been fun to see his stunned face as she waltzed up to him and dumped her bags in his arms. But if she did that and show how incompetent he was, the Capitaine would assign someone better at tailing so she left things as they were.

When Emily slipped into their hotel suite, Gideon was already there. He was stretched out on the couch with a book in hand. She dropped the keycard and her bags on the table. "How long have you been back?"

He sat up and marked his page with a scrap of paper. "Not long. About a half hour."

"Any trouble getting back here?"

"None," he said with a shake of his head. "I just caught a cab after I finished sightseeing."

Emily smiled. The two of them had been thinking along the same lines. She had gone shopping and he had gone to see the sights. "Where did you go?"

"I ended up at the Louvre."

"Nice. Did you see the Mona Lisa?"

"Briefly. It was too crowded to look at it for very long."

"And how did you shadow like it?"

Gideon chuckled. "I don't think he really enjoyed it especially when I spent an hour studying Raphael's 'St. Michael Vanquishing Satan'. What about your shadow?"

"He's probably down in the lobby with yours and comparing notes," she said with her own chuckle. "I took mine shopping and at one point he looked bored out of his mind."

"Shopping can do that."

She turned back to the table and picked up one of the few bags she had brought back. Emily walked over to him and held it out. "I saw this while I was shopping for the team and Jack and Henry."

He took the bag, but didn't immediately look inside it. He had something else on his mind. "Who's Henry? Is he your boyfriend?"

"Yeah," she quipped. "I've always had a thing for blondes and younger too. Man, I'm really robbing the cradle with this one."

Gideon looked at her a little wide eyed and disbelieving. The profiler in him was worried he didn't know her as well as he thought and it was clouding his other skills. Her voice was saying one thing. Her straight face was saying another.

Emily laughed, a deep, vibrant laugh. "Relax. I'm sure he probably thinks he is, but Henry is JJ and Will LaMontagne's son. He's three."

"The detective from New Orleans?" he asked with a curious frown.

"Yes. He's the one. It took JJ almost a year to admit that they were seeing each other. I almost had to throw her at him when we bumped into him on another case."

"Sounds like it was one of the worst kept secrets in the BAU."

"Absolutely. I don't know how Garcia was able to contain herself for as long as she did. She was about ready to burst when JJ finally fessed up."

"They happy?"

"Very much. They're thinking of having more kids."

"Good for them. Family is important," Gideon said with a nod and finally turned his attention to the bag in his hand.

Emily held her breath. She hadn't planned on getting him anything because he was here in Paris with her and was busy being a thorn in her side. But she felt a little guilty excluding him when she was getting a gift for everyone else so when she saw it in the bookstore, she picked it up.

Gideon reached inside and pulled out an 8x9 print of two birds perched on a branch, one with a bee grasped in its beak. They were colorful little birds with chestnut crowns, black robber's masks, turquoise chests and yellow throat feathers.

"I hope you like it," she said. "I remembered seeing prints of birds in your old apartment."

The corners of his mouth curled into a smile. "I do. What is it?"

"A European Bee-Eater. Before eating a bee it will bash the bee's head into the branch to stun it and then rubs its abdomen on the branch to flush out the toxins."

"Intriguing. Do you happen to know its Latin name?"

Emily screwed up her face as she tried to remember what it was. "Uh…I believe its Merops Apiaster."

He nodded, studying the print some more before saying, "Thank you, Prentiss."

"You're welcome," she replied, pleased that he had liked her spur of the moment purchase. She went back to the table and sat at the place where she had left her notes. "Garcia sent me Noah's phone and credit card history."

"Excellent," he agreed, coming to stand behind her with the print tucked under one arm while she opened the emails. "What did she find out?"

"She said there hasn't been any activity on either account for the past two weeks," Emily explained as she scrolled through the data, trying to ignore his hot breath on her neck as he leaned in closer to read what was on her phone.

"Makes sense." Gideon adjusted his reading glasses. "What about the unknown number?"

"From a burner phone. It's currently off, but she's set up an alert and will let us know the moment it is turned back on."

"Then we'll know the general area they are in." He was very well aware of the fact that disposable phones were much harder to pinpoint their exact locations than regular cell phones. But he thought there might have been some advances in technology during the years her was gone.

"Right." She enlarged the text so he could read it easier and get him off her back. "Let's see. His last charge was a place called Le Strasbourg," Emily observed and did a quick Google search. "It's a hostel on the Rue de Belzunce in the 10th arrondissement. That's on the right bank of the Seine," she added so he would have somewhat an idea of where it was.

"And we're on the left bank in the 7th."

"Yes! You're catching on, Gideon."

"I am." Then they grinned at each other. "We have our starting point."