Sorry about the delay. Life interfered big time and I had to scramble to find time to write. It was hard, but I got it done. Enjoy.

It had been a quiet few hours. After the first two, it became clear to everyone that they weren't going to get any answers from Emily. They would find out exactly where they were headed once they got there so they settled back to watch the scenery roll past the car windows except for Gideon. He took the time to really observe Emily again. She was a little tense and, given the situation, he was too, so he couldn't fault her, but there was something else there, and it has been present since they arrived in France. Now wasn't the time to bring that up though, but the car ride gave him time to think about it.

Emily, on the other hand, wasn't paying anyone any mind. Her focus was solely on getting them to their destination safely and keeping her eyes open for any tails. Just because she thought they made a clean escape, didn't mean their trail couldn't have picked up. She was aware of Gideon watching her and, likely, noticing her hyper vigilance, but it didn't matter. He would think what he wanted and she'd explain what she needed later.

The snow that had started falling when they entered the Savoie region was coming down harder and Emily was driving as carefully as she could while going as fast as she could, and as she approached their stop, she couldn't help but release the breath she seemed to be holding.

Gideon sat up straighter in his seat, reading the sign as they drove through the gate. "Retrouvialles?"

Emily corrected his pronunciation and then said, "It's my family's winery."

"You own a winery?"

They came to a fork in the road and Emily took the right hand one that led to the main house. The housing for the vintner and workers were closer to the actually winery. If it weren't for the heavy falling snow, they would have seen the neat row upon row of bare grapevines.

"Actually my mother owns it, but it's been in my family for generations."

"Nice. What types of wines do you produce?"

She kept her eyes glued to the snowy lane. "There are two whites, Roussette de Savoie Altesse and Vin de Savoie Apremont, and a red Vin de Savoie Mondeuse. Robert, Sebastien's brother, and his son Stephane is working on expanding the line with a Mondeuse Blanche and a Persan. Both grapes are either rare or hard to grow."

"So that's how you know Sebastien."

"Yeah. He prefers lawns and flower beds to growing grapes."

All conversation ceased when the car came to a stop in front of a square modest house built of the local stone, with a hipped roof, clay roof tiles and multi-paned windows with shutters. There were three windows on the second floor and one on either side of the double door. From what Gideon could see of it, he knew he liked it. They all piled out of the car and huddled around Emily as she inserted the key into the lock and turned it.

Gideon arched an eyebrow at her. "You just happen to have the key on you?"

From the humorous lilt in his voice, she knew he wasn't scolding her so she shrugged and said, "I was thinking of visiting for a few days before going home so I grabbed them before we left." Once she had gotten the okay from Hotch to go with Gideon, she spent several hours at the storage unit, where her personal belongings were still at, digging through the boxes to find the keys.

"Well I'm glad she did," Noah added as the door swung inward, "Because it's cold out here."

The rest agreed wholeheartedly and trooped inside. Again Gideon liked what he saw when she turned on the lights, especially the solid oak staircase and ceiling beams. "How old is it?"

"16th century," she said, shucking her jacket and he let out a low appreciative whistle.

While everyone was busy admiring their surroundings, Emily was noticing that the heat had been turned up. Normally when the house was unoccupied, the heat was set at a temperature that kept the pipes from freezing. She realized that it must have been Robert. When she called from the hotel, she asked that he ready the supplies she'd need to make sure she kept everyone safe. In doing so, he took it a step further and made sure they were stocked up for the big snowstorm that was coming. He knew they weren't going anywhere in that and wanted them to be prepared. The house being toasty was just one of the ways he did that. This wasn't where she had planned to end up at, but it would do for now. They would have to wait out the storm and head out when it cleared. The good news was if they were bogged down by the snow so were the men who were possibly following them.

A gentle touch to her elbow brought Emily out of her thoughts. She turned to find Gideon standing next to her. "I'm sorry. Did you say something?"

"I asked if you were going to make us stand in the entryway all night or show us around?"

"Oh! Right," she said with a sheepish smile.

She gave them a quick tour of the first floor, pointing out the living room and library that were accessed from either side of the entryway. A short hallway led back to the dining room that had a table that could seat twelve, a half bath, and a fully modernized kitchen that retained the charm of the original one. Upstairs Emily assigned the second largest of the four bedrooms to Gideon and Noah, another to Amie and she took the room she used growing up. It still bore the signs of her personality from the color of the walls to the sheets and comforter. She did however request that they refrain from entering the master bedroom and the wine cellar. Otherwise, they were free to roam the rest of the house.

Gideon could see where she was coming from. Even though she wasn't showing it, Emily was probably uncomfortable with having complete strangers, himself included, in her grandparents home. This house was like a second home to her like the woods are. After making sure everyone understood the rules, she slipped back outside to the car and drove it around back, concealing it in the stone stable that had been converted into a garage. Knowing that the car was out of sight and the falling snow was quickly covering their tracks did little to calm her uneasiness. Eventually they were going to be found and she had to make sure she had everything in place when the time came. Emily was still formulating plans when she went inside and found everyone gathered in the kitchen watching Gideon cook.

"Uncle Jase is in his element," Noah said softly as Gideon flittered about the kitchen with a towel draped over one shoulder with music playing in the background, assembling a meal fit from the refrigerator that Robert thoughtfully had made sure it was well stocked.

"I can see that," she observed.

They all sat down to the home cooked meal like a regular group of friends playing catch up. Ignoring the elephant in the room in their situation, they talked about happier things. Gideon and Emily asked about Noah's trip, at least, everything before things went haywire. Gideon ignored everything Amie related. He didn't want to hear it. She was the trouble in his nephew's life and he felt he'd be better off without her. Until she came into the picture, it seemed like Noah was really having a good time. He met a lot of new people, experienced things other people only dreamed about, and made some new friends. He was proud of his nephew for venturing out.

Eventually the conversation moved to the living room. Sitting before the roaring fire in the large fireplace, Emily and Noah shared stories about the places they both visited, comparing the two to see how things changed. The exchanges gave Gideon new insights about Emily, especially her childhood. It all made for a nice time, but the hectic events of the day caught up to them and they all agreed to call it a night.

As everyone was heading off to bed, Emily couldn't resist tossing out a friendly poke at her ex-boss. "Gideon, I better not catch you pinching any of the linens."

"I don't know what you mean," he grumped.

"I'll bet you 100 Euros that you have in your bag the bathrobe from the hotel suite."

Gideon didn't say anything. He just huffed in annoyance and disappeared into the room he was sharing with Noah, leaving a grinning Emily standing at the head of the stairs.

"I'll take that as a yes," she chuckled, wishing he had taken her up on the bet. It would've been the easiest $113.23 after conversion that she ever made.

"Well?" Alain Renaud demanded after snatching up the phone.

"We haven't found them yet, Monsieur, but I sense we are getting closer. I have men posted outside the American Embassy and at every bus and rail station and the airport. At the moment none have reported any sightings of these elusive Americans."

"They could have been inside by the time your men arrived."

"I have already thought of that. I contacted my sources on the inside and no one matching their descriptions has passed through the doors. I also have a clever young man on the payroll who has tapped into the security cameras. Nothing."

Renaud stood up and started pacing around his office, pausing every now and then to adjust a book, painting or knickknack that was slightly out of alignment. "Then where the hell are they? People don't simply vanish into thin air," he all but shouted over the line.

The man on the other end of the phone remained calm and collected. He was very aware of Renaud's volatile temper, having used it to get the politician into their pocket. He was content with letting Renaud think he was the one in charge and held all the power. And if he started to prove to be too troublesome, they would simply snuff him out. There were more politicians in Parliament who would gladly do their dirty work…with the right incentive.

"If they are hiding somewhere in the city, my men will find them."

"And if they're not?"

"My men will still find them. It will just take a few more days. You need to remain calm."

"I am calm!"

"Whatever you say, Monsieur Renaud," the man responded in a reasonable voice. "But I do believe I might know where they're heading if they have indeed fled the city."

That little tidbit calmed Renaud down enough for him to settle behind his desk before biting. "Where?"

"As you suggested, I have looked into the American woman, Emily Prentiss, and have discovered several interesting things. First of all, you were correct that she had ties to our fair country. Her family, on her mother's side, owns a small winery in the Savioe region."

Renaud pounded a fist on the desk in triumph. Got them! "Send your men immediately," he ordered.

"Let's not be hasty, Monsieur," he counseled. "At this point in time there is no evidence that the Americans have left the city. A discrete check of their credit cards doesn't show a charge for a rental car."

He was right, Renaud silently fumed. Now wasn't the time to act rashly. If the man he had sent after Amie and the bastard who had stolen her from him, had used his head and not kill the wrong man, he wouldn't have this mess on his hands that he had to clean up. All he wanted was his notebook back before it fell into the wrong hands, doubting his mistress knew what she had. Not wanting his hired help to know he was agreeing with him, Renaud changed the subject.

"What else did you learn about this woman?"

"The woman could be high profile."

"Why is that?"

"Her mother is an ambassador and she's highly regarded here."

"I sense there's more."

"She's also an FBI agent. She'll have skills and connections that can make containing the situation hard," the unidentified man cautioned.

Renaud felt his anger flaring. Why was he arguing with me? Has he suddenly forgotten whom was he talking to? "Hard or not, it needs to be done."

"Certainly there is another way. Killing her or any of them is not the right option. The old guy was an agent too. This will be nothing but trouble."

He had had enough and leaned forward in his chair, finger jabbing the blotter with every point he made. "Now listen closely to me. I want them found. When they have told you were Amie and the boy is, you will eliminate all three. I don't care how you do it as long as it looks like it was an accident. Amie I will take care of personally."

"As you wish."

Around three in the morning Gideon silently descended the stairs to the first floor in search of Emily. He had a good idea where she was so he wasn't surprised to find her sitting in the semi-dark, staring out the window that overlooked the driveway. The only source of light was the faint glowing of they dying embers in the fireplace. He walked over and tossed a few logs in. They caught quickly and soon the yellow and orange dancing flames, allowing him to see the gun clutched in her hand, lighted the room.

"Pren…Emily, you need to get some sleep."

"I'm fine," was all she said, eyes never leaving the snow swirling outside the window.

"No one is going to sneak up on us in the middle of a snow storm."

"They could. It makes the perfect cover." Her mind finally registered the fact that he had just called her Emily again and a feeling of dread settles over her, knowing what was to come. The discussion she was hoping to avoid for eternity was about to rear its ugly head.

He nodded thoughtfully and went to sit on the far end of the couch. "Back at the forger's apartment you promised to answer all my questions to the best of your ability when we reached our final destination and I promised to hold you to it. Well, here we are and now seems like a good time to talk. Noah and Amie are asleep so they won't overhear anything." He gestured to the other end of the couch. "Please sit with me."

Emily finally turned to him and sighed, not wanting to have this conversation, but knew she owed it to him. She got up from her place before the window and went to sit next Gideon on the couch, perching on its edge.

"Relax. It's just the two of us," he cajoled, nodding to her hand.

She looked down to see the white knuckled grip she had on the Glock. Emily eased up and set it on the coffee table before sitting back against the cushions, gazing into the fire.

"First of all you need to know that I can't go into great detail because most of it is classified and you don't have the clearance."

"Understood." He was clearly intrigued.

Emily sighed again and absently brushed a lock of hair off her face. "The ten years I spent in the Midwest was a backstop. I had only been with the Bureau for about a year before joining the BAU. Before that I was with the CIA. They recruited me right after I had graduated from Georgetown with my Masters."

Gideon's eyes narrowed. That both surprised him and not at all. Even from the first time he met her, there was something about her, nothing wrong, just something. She was so composed and so good at controlling her emotions and expressions. So CIA, yeah, it made sense. She was practically built for that. The way she grew up was like she was groomed for that. Still, it was a little surprising.

"I was considered to be one of their best and brightest," she said with distain. She hadn't, and still didn't, take the job to make a name for herself and reap the rewards of her success. She just wanted to protect her country and the people who resided within its boundaries. "I was eventually loaned to Interpol as part of a joint task force where I worked mostly undercover."

"That had to be hard for you. Going undercover requires you to give up so much of yourself to become someone else for a certain amount of time. You end up taking big risks both personally and professionally, walking that fine line of remaining distance or becoming too involved. Not everyone can do it."

Guilty as charged for becoming too involved. Once that line was crossed there was no going back. Emily shook her head and hugged her body, suddenly cold. "No they can't. I was on the verge of burning out when the task force was disbanded."

"So you left one stressful job for another," he lightly joked, hoping it would put her slightly more at ease. She looked so tightly wound and could snap at any minute.

She let out a rueful chuckle. "At least this job is clean. I know who the bad guys are and I don't have to screw anyone over to make a case."

"That is true, but please continue. I sense there is more to this that you're not telling me."

Emily wasn't sure if she liked this sympathetic version of Gideon and it was throwing her off. She was more used to his rude and arrogant side. "Almost a year ago, a man we had put into prison escaped and came after us, namely me because I was the one who had personal contact with him."

"You were his stressor," Gideon surmised.

"Yeah," Emily said, her voice dropping a little, a sure sign her was right and there was more to be told.

"Did you get him?"

She nodded. "He's dead."

But maybe that wasn't enough to keep him out of her life. "Is he who keeps you up at night?" She looks at him questioningly. "The nightmares."

"Oh…" she wasn't expecting that. "It took a long time to catch him…a long time."

"How long is a long time?"

"Five months. He almost killed me." Technically he did when she coded in the ambulance, but Gideon didn't need to know that. If she hasn't told the team about it, why should she tell him? "I spent two months in the hospital and during that time Hotch faked my death to protect me." She couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice. She was still angry at Hotch for taking her life away without consulting her. "When I was strong enough to travel, I was relocated here."

It clicked for him. Her reluctance to come in the beginning, the uneasiness radiating of her the moment their plane had landed and her hyper vigilance all made sense. Her much more recent history with Paris was unfolding. Not wanting to press the emotional part of it, he asked, "So the team was looking for him, found him and he died so you could finally return home?"

"Not quite. While they were looking for him, he was looking for his son. Thinking the team knew where he was; he kidnapped Jack to force their hand. I came back to rescue him. I got Jack back safely and in the struggle for control of the gun, it went off and his kidnapper died."

"You killed him?"

"Yes."

Good for her, he thought and kept it to himself, figuring that wasn't something she would want to hear, especially from him. "I can't even begin to imagine what you went through and where an 'I'm sorry' seems inadequate."

"It was five months of hell."

They sat in companionable silence gazing at the flames dancing over the surface of the logs in the fireplace. Eventually Gideon got to his feet. "Thank you for telling me. I know you didn't want to, but I truly appreciated it." And he did. He had gotten to see a whole other side of Emily, a side that made her stronger.

Emily shrugged. "I promised I would."

"No matter. Again…thank you." He bent down and picked her Glock off the coffee table. "Now get some sleep, Emily. I'll take the next shift."

She immediately protested. "Jason, you don't have to. I'm not tired."

"You are and I want to. Get some sleep."

She could see from the stubborn set of his jaw he wasn't going to change her mind and she didn't feel in the mood to keep arguing. She sighed and surrendered. "Alright I'll do it, but I'll just stay here in case something happens."

"It doesn't bother me where you sleep as long as you sleep."

Emily nodded, fluffed the sole pillow on the couch and stretched out. She didn't think she would be able to fall asleep any time soon after everything that had occurred today. But she was more tired than she thought and was out for the count within minutes. Gideon watched Emily sleep for a while before going to rustle up a blanket. After draping it over her slumbering body, Gideon settled on the chair by the window and assumed his watch.

The morning dawned clear and bright, the winter sun reflecting off the snow covered vineyards. It was a beautiful sight. The brown of the dormant grape vines contrasting nicely with the vivid blue sky and the eye blinding white of the snow. The looming mountains of the Alps added to the grandeur of the region.

I can see why Emily's ancestors chose to settle here and start making wine, Gideon thought as he gazed in awe out the window during a pause in breakfast preparation. It was just breathtaking.

Since Emily had been up for most of the night, Gideon let her sleep for an extra hour before rousing her and sending the half asleep woman off to take a shower. When she returned wide-awake and ready to face another stressful day, he had breakfast all laid out. Though he didn't say anything to her, he loved this kitchen. Its layout was just the way he would have designed it in his dream kitchen. Now they were all sitting around the table tucking into the tomato and basil omelettes with proscuitto that he had whipped up from what he had found in the fridge.

"Is this where we're going to hang out until you know it's safe for us to go home?" Noah asked after practically inhaling his omelette.

"I really like it here," Amie chimed in.

My god, this man can cook, Emily thought before shaking her head and saying, "No. We're still too exposed here. There are too many ways the men after us can come at us and I don't want to endanger any of the people working here. This was only a temporary stop because of the heavy snow yesterday."

"So where are we going?" Gideon asked even though he had a good idea what she was going to say.

Emily's eyes drifted to the window and the Alps beyond. "Up."