Thank you for the reviews, including thanks to Sussi, Starrmyst and Kim! I have managed to send brief replies to those who reviewed the last chapter, and I'll catch up on the previous one over the weekend.

Thank you for all the kind wishes for my grandfather. He has a burst stomach ulcer, and has now picked up a virus whilst in hospital so is now in isolation (which means he's been able to get some peace and quiet!).

As I promised last chapter, I will write a one shot, or an extra scene that isn't crucial to the plot, and send to regular reviewers as a thank you. I break up from school (I teach) tomorrow, and as I'm skint I'll be spending my two weeks off writing!

Thanks to Chiroho for the beta, and the next chapter may be up Sunday or Monday as it's not written yet!

Where the Blue of the Night

"If I have seen further than others, it is by standing upon the shoulders of giants."

- Isaac Newton

Chapter Three

November 11th

"What is it that you intend to do?"

He smiled at the question as if he had been expecting it all along. There was nothing urgent now about his demeanour; he was calm, at peace almost, as if everything that needed to be done had been done, and now he could revel in the aftermath of his work. "Think about it," he said. "Think about everything that you have done over the past week. What have you learned?"

She focused on her breathing, making it steady, less panicked. Since she had known he was planning another explosion her outlook had changed. Being calm was now difficult; she was in a situation where she wanted to fight or fly, and fighting certainly wasn't an option. But neither was flying. She had no idea how to get out of there, or even how to create an opportunity to look for a way out. "We have learnt about you," she said. "We know more than you think."

"You know what I wanted you to know. Enough to create fear. Enough so that your mind is now racing with the possibilities of what I've planned. You know that I have a remote control to a bomb somewhere; but you don't know where that bomb is, and you don't know if your colleagues are aware of it. You also don't know if there is a secondary explosive somewhere, because you will have profiled me to be a mission oriented killer, you think that I will kill myself once my mission has been completed." He sat down on the chair facing her, his fingers softly tapping on the wood of the table.

"There's no point me answering your questions," she said, pulling calmness from somewhere. "Because my answers will always be wrong." She fell silent. She had to use what she knew, what she had learned. She had to buy time.

He nodded. "Very well," he said. "Just remember I know more about you than you do about me. I've been studying you for so long that I know every inch, every crevasse of your soul."

She felt resolve harden in her, letting her eyes become like stone, cold and unreadable. They knew what he wanted his victims to do, and to survive, she was going to have to do anything but.

November 4th

The carpet under his feet must be wearing thin.

He'd been pacing since seven thirty, since a call had come from Strauss. There'd been fewer details than he'd have liked, but enough to make his heart race and his mind tick through every possibility. Rossi had been injured in an explosion at his home. It wasn't serious; the bomb hadn't been built to kill, just to warn and scar a little, but it had shown that they were a target. They were being stalked.

Morgan leant against the kitchen counter and looked out of the window at the city, a glimpse of a wooded area in the distance. Some minion of Strauss' had driven by as soon as they had found out what had happened to make sure there had been no obvious attacks on the rest of their homes. JJ, Reid, Emily and himself had all been left alone. However, an explosive similar to that used at Rossi's had been found wired to the lock on Hotch's door, the UnSub obviously expecting Hotch to return home. Clearly whoever had done this didn't know that Hotch and Emily were together.

A crow sat on a telephone wire, momentarily making eye contact with Morgan before flying off. Its simplicity soothed him some and he turned to his coffee maker. Nothing had been said by Strauss about his behaviour in Utah, and he imagined it would be put on the back burner until they had caught whoever had done this to Rossi. His stomach felt unsettled, tiredness and apprehension corrupting its natural floras. The fact that Strauss had told him to come in for nine, like he would on any other day, had reassured him somewhat, but her tone of voice had been decidedly unfriendly. Not that that was unusual, but she'd always had more of a soft spot for him than Reid, for example.

The smell of coffee did nothing to stimulate him. He'd slept well, a sleep he felt he hadn't deserved. There had been no dreams that he recalled, no disruptions, nothing, until his cell phone had rung. He wished she'd called him sooner, that he'd been told Rossi was injured, and that there hadn't been some undercover job to check their buildings. But then, she knew they'd had little rest.

He poured the coffee into a travel mug and grabbed his jacket, taking an extra minute to make sure the apartment was secure. He'd told Strauss about his other houses, one of which he was planning to move into himself, renting his present apartment out instead. He doubted that they'd be any explosives in his other properties, they weren't common knowledge, but that didn't mean it was classified information. He could also see why he wouldn't be a target for the UnSub; he wasn't high profile enough. Attacks on Rossi's and Hotch's homes weren't a coincidence; Hotch was the leader, Rossi the next in line and with a prolific personality. This UnSub had a high opinion of himself; he thought he could compete with the top dogs.

Morgan locked up and took the stairs rather than the elevator. He didn't trust elevators and at this moment in time, he was going to trust fewer things than he had before. He nodded at the attendant before pushing open the door that led into the parking lot for the building. His car was straight ahead, in its usual place.

He stopped for a moment and stared at it, an act that had Garcia seen him, would have caused her to mock, but he wasn't standing there to admire the vehicle. He was standing there because his instincts were telling him to go no further. He stepped back in the door. "Don't let anyone in. Can you stop the gates from opening?"

The attendant nodded, looking puzzled. Morgan pulled out his cell phone and dialled a number he hated calling. "Strauss," he said. "We need someone to check vehicles. They may have been tampered with."

Hotch tried to focus on the document in front of him, but his mind just wouldn't stay with it. He glanced out of the window into the bullpen, seeing Emily, Reid and JJ clustered around Reid's desk. No one else was around, it was still too early. Morgan was being brought over by Agent Abbassi, while Garcia had gone to pick Rossi up from hospital to bring him into work. His injuries had been superficial, the overnight stay in hospital more of a security measure than a medical one.

He stood up, stretching his legs. After leaving Rossi, he and Emily had returned to her apartment and she had gone back to sleep, not even waking when her alarm clock began to blare at six thirty. He'd been awake, unable to even close his eyes, instead taking comfort from her warm body and soft sheets against his skin.

Strauss hadn't asked why he was at Prentiss' apartment, but she had given him a significant look that told him she already knew his reason for being there. He'd chosen to ignore it, hoping that she would dismiss any liaison between himself and Emily as irrelevant, but he had a feeling she would simply store it as ammunition for future use.

Three pairs of eyes landed on him as he opened his office door.

"Hotch," JJ said tentatively. "Any idea how long it will be until Rossi gets here?"

"He's on his way," Hotch said. "Shall we go into the conference room and start to discuss what we know? Strauss is going to come in and speak to us at nine thirty so we get the broader picture." He had been irate when he'd discovered that the initial threat to his team had been concealed from him, and he was still quietly seething at the fact he had still not been told everything Strauss was privy to.

There were three nods, followed by a quick scuffle of papers and JJ led them into the conference room. They sat at their usual seats, Emily beside him, and JJ passed out pads of paper, leaving some in the places where Rossi and Morgan would be soon.

Hotch glanced around at them all; sleep had only done so much to alleviate the exhaustion of the last few days, weeks even, and now they were going to be tested once more. Reid was still moving stiffly, and had a doctor's appointment later on in the day. He would need to given desk jobs for the next week or so, depending on how quickly he healed. There would be no grace period now for them to take a vacation, or for Emily to go shopping; they would resume a usual routine in the hope of keeping them safe, and drawing out the bomber.

"This is someone who knew we were away," Emily said. "Someone who has information on us, or watches the media."

"Or who works here," JJ said. "While we were in Utah a letter was sent to my home, addressed to Will, threatening myself and the rest of us."

"Did the letter mention Henry?" Hotch said. He knew of the letter. Strauss had mentioned it briefly, but had provided no details.

"No," JJ said. "And the writer did state that they weren't interested in harming innocents."

"But it depends on who he thinks of as an innocent," Reid said, threading a pen between his fingers absently. "And we keep referring to the UnSub as a he – it may not be."

Hotch nodded, hearing familiar footsteps approach the door before it opened. Morgan looked focused, an expression Hotch hadn't seen since they were in South Dakota, and it produced slight relief. Morgan patted Reid on the shoulder as he walked past, and Reid gave him a brief smile. All was well between the two of them.

Rossi winced as he sat down, all eyes drawn to him. "I've been discharged," he said. "I didn't discharge myself, and I'm taking pain killers. Following all the doctor's instructions to the tee. Now, what are we going to do about getting hold of the son of a bitch who's just cost me a few grand's worth of damage?" He looked expectantly at them all.

Hotch almost smiled, such was Dave's expression. "We have to look at ourselves and consider this team as a victim," he said, watching their faces. "This means we need to analyse ourselves to some degree to see if we can pinpoint a particular person who may want to damage out team, and if we can put together a preliminary profile, we can see who fits."

"Hotch," Morgan said. "Are we actually going to be allowed to work this? Isn't Strauss going to bring in an outside team?"

Hotch shook his head. "We're the best resource the Bureau has in situations like this. And knowledge of the attack will be contained to those who need to know."

"In case it's an inside job?" Morgan said. "This means we're going to have to work a case as well, Hotch. We will have to maintain a semblance of normality. Has Strauss spoke to you about this – we're all at breaking point."

Hotch let Morgan finish, knowing there was reason in what he was saying, and that Morgan had to get it off his chest. "I haven't spoken to Strauss in any detail yet. She is due to arrive in a few minutes to brief us fully on what's happened in our absence. She will have been given orders from above, and we will have to follow them too."

Morgan nodded, accepting of it. The strain was still visible; the pressure and worry of the last few days, and of what was to come when the incidents in Utah were dealt with. However, that seemed to be one black cloud that was going to linger over him for a few more days.

"Good, you're all together." The door was pushed open and the tall figure of Strauss entered. Hotch braced himself automatically; he was used to receiving a barrage of criticism from Strauss whenever he saw her, although that had lessened slightly recently. She sat down in one of the spare chairs as Garcia slipped into the room, giving an apologetic look, and seeming rather fearful of Strauss. "There's not a great deal to tell you," Strauss began.

"Is that because you can't – or won't – tell us, or because you haven't found anything out?" Rossi said, and Hotch looked at Strauss for her reaction.

She gave him a brief but exasperated look, but remained unruffled. "It's because we don't know as much as we'd like." She gave a deep sigh, and Hotch realised how tired she looked. "A few days ago, a letter was sent to Agent Jareau's home addressed to Will LaMontagne, containing what Agent Mansfield considered an empty threat that did require some investigation, but did not warrant immediate protective action. As you're all aware,key features in such letters are indentified and then rated for the threat they present. It was a standard threat stating that the team was in danger because of what they had done and had failed to do. There was no mention of explosives, or even a hint as to what the writer intended to carry out. However, what was concerning, was the amount of detail they had on each member of the team."

"Is this the type of information that anyone with a computer and an idea of how to hack into everyday databases could find? Or was it more the sort of stuff you'd only find under tightened security?" Morgan said, leaning forward onto the table.

Strauss looked at him with consideration. Hotch was aware of her position with protocol and Morgan still being active on the team. Technically, he shouldn't be there, but any shift in the team's personnel – however temporary – could draw further attention from the UnSub if they were being watched. "It was everyday information," she said. "It was one of the factors why Agent Mansfield wasn't overly concerned. We do get letters like this from time to time; they are not unusual. To go through a detailed analysis each time one was received would take you away from your roles too often." She paused for a moment, her fingers grazing the corners of the files she had brought with her.

"Is there any connection between the letter and the explosion?" Emily said, frowning at the files. Hotch knew her mind was now working on two levels; what Strauss was or wasn't telling them, and what the files were for.

"There is no direct connection, but it's doubtful to be a coincidence. Agent Mansfield is on leave for another three days, and he is out of the area and non-contactable. His senior agent, Reece Boyd, will meet with you at noon to discuss the investigation into the explosion, the attempted bomb at Agent Hotchner's residence, and the mock explosive under Agent Morgan's car. Until then, there are a couple of things to occupy you," Strauss looked around at them, and for a moment Hotch thought he could see concern in her eyes. "I realise the pressure you have been under the past few weeks. Had circumstances been different, you would have all been on leave for two weeks as of today. However, we need to maintain a sense of normality. As you would probably advise, the way to draw out the UnSub is to have you carry on with your routines while taking precautions. With your permission, your homes are going to be searched for monitoring devices, and your technical analyst will search through your online records to check for any suspicious activity or unauthorised access.

"What we need you to do is to profile the unidentified subject. You are the best analysts of each other's behaviour. You need to work victimology, as you would usually do, but for all intents and purposes, no one outside of your team and Agent Mansfield's must know what you are doing." She straightened her back, and Hotch was sure he heard a slight creak from her vertebrae.

Hotch glanced around at his team. They all were silent, their faces pallid, eyes wide. They had all, at one point or another, been in a life or death situation, but never with any forewarning. This could simply be a threat from someone with a grudge, someone who was aggrieved that a loved one or a friend had been found guilty because of their profile, or someone with a more subtle reason. So far, it seemed that their only goal was to cause panic, rather than actual harm, but that could easily change.

"I'm expecting you to work alongside Agent Mansfield, Agent Boyd, and their team, as you would with the local police department in any other case. I also expect you to be careful, and to consider every possibility, every encounter, that may have caused someone to want to target this team. You will of course be given a copy of the letter and information about the explosives when you meet with Agent Boyd." Strauss let out a slight sigh, her fingers now stilling on top of the files. There were six of them, and Hotch doubted that the number was a coincidence.

"I lied to you earlier," she said. "Even without this attack on the BAU, I would have had to call you in. We have a case, and it's one, I'm afraid, that no local PD can work on."

Please review and let me know if you enjoyed or not, or who you think has been kidnapped!

Sarah x