Sorry I haven't managed to do review replies yet – I've been struck with a migraine again, and I hope these author's notes are okay as I'm not seeing particularly straight!

An extra scene, following this chapter will be sent to regular reviews once I receive a review for this chapter – I'm not hanging on for a review, but if I send it before you've read this, it'll spoil this chapter! For those who read but don't review, the extra scene isn't crucial to the plot, so you're not missing out!

If I get over 300 reviews (in total) before Sunday afternoon BST, I'll post the next chapter then... as I'll feel guilty for not doing! I am at a wedding all weekend, so getting internet will not be easy, but I'll try to find a wifi hotspot somewhere. I'll probably try to do that regardless of how many reviews because I'm too soft, but if I can't, it'll be Tuesday. That doesn't mean you shouldn't review *grins*.

Thank you to Chiroho for the beta.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.

Where the Blue of the Night

"Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed."

- Jonathan Swift

Chapter Eleven

He didn't hang around after the explosion, knowing that he risked being seen once they began to collect their faculties. It had been a good one; powerful enough so that it blew out the windscreen and caused a nice big noise and a bit of force, but not enough so that it hurt anyone. After all, there were people around who didn't deserve to be caught in any crossfire.

He'd slipped back into the office without anyone noticing he'd been gone for longer than he was entitled, not that they would have complained – he put in plenty more hours than what was required. It had been his lunch hour anyway, and there was nothing so urgent that he had to eat at his desk. Instead he'd found out where members of the BAU were and had driven over to Broken Cross, finding the Suburban easily. The road it had been parked on had houses on only one side, the other being a park with dense shrubbery and trees separating it from the road. No one would have seen him slip out of the almost identical car, staying on the tree-covered side, and then slipping under the car and securing the explosive.

It was a remotely controlled device, simple and easy to make, with nothing distinguishable about it. There was no signature, which is what he knew they would look for, and its absence would cause them frustration. He'd stood in the park, in the midst of the bushes, camouflaged. Seven years in the military had served him well. He knew how to hide. But he also knew not to linger. As soon as they had recovered from the initial shock of the explosion he'd slipped away, back across the park to the place where he'd moved his car.

His work was done for now; but not for the day.

Autumn sunlight trickled in through the kitchen window, casting an ethereal glow on the body. Hotch looked around the kitchen, noting every object that seemed out of place. Mansfield had been making coffee before he was shot; the coffee pot had shattered as Mansfield had fallen, leaving shards of glass over the kitchen floor, the coffee now a sticky stain on top of the tiles, mingled with the congealed blood.

Death was never pretty. There was no peace to be found there. Hotch looked at the shell of Agent Mansfield, the thoughts inside his mind turning his face to stone. They had never considered that Mansfield was incommunicado for this reason. They had pictured him at his cabin, fishing peacefully beside a river. He hadn't considered the letter sent to JJ a serious threat, hence not cancelling his vacation. A vacation he'd never actually managed to take.

"There's no sign of forced entry," Reid said. "Unless Mansfield had the door open so the killer could just walk in, he let them into the house."

"I'd go with the latter," Hotch said. "There are two cups out. He was getting a drink for his killer."

"Which means he knows him. It wasn't some random person knocking on his door," Reid said, looking at the mail that had been placed on the counter. "By the looks of things he hadn't be here long either. No suspicious activity has been reported by the neighbours, so I guess he used a silencer."

Hotch nodded. "Agent Boyd," he said, looking at the man who was standing in the corner, still in a state of shock. "We need to keep this quiet for now. Reid, can you go to Agent McAllister and ask him to speak with me as soon as he can?"

Reid nodded, leaving the room. Agent McAllister was the agent-in-charge of the investigation now that it had become a murder inquiry. Boyd was too close, and looking at his demeanour, Hotch imagined he'd be put on leave with immediate effect.

"You think this is the same guy that's targeting your team?" he said, his voice monotone.

"It's a possibility," Hotch said. "Do you know if Mansfield took anything home with him to look through? Any files?"

Boyd shook his head. "He may have, but it's unlikely as he was going away." Boyd looked away, clearly distraught. "Why would your UnSub want to kill Mansfield? The case wasn't even a priority..."

"He may have thought that Mansfield was onto something," Hotch said. "If it is the same person, then there's a likelihood that it's someone who works at the Academy."

Boyd looked at him, his eyes steely. "God forbid I even get my hands on him. Mansfield was a good agent, and a good boss and friend. He's not a person you want to get rid of."

"Well, someone clearly didn't want him around," McAllister was standing behind Hotch, his presence automatically changing the atmosphere in the room. "I need to ask both of you and Agent Reid to leave while forensics goes through everything. Then we'll need to interview Agent Boyd, as you discovered the body. Any theories, feel free to share them later – we'll get the facts here first."

Hotch didn't move. He knew McAllister mainly by reputation, having never had much to do with him and his unit. They were effectively a senior murder team, taking over cases when a local PD wasn't able to deal with them, or in situations like this, when the victim was one of their own and the feds had to take control. He was an alpha male with a lack of tolerance and empathy; direct in his manner and approach, and very much a member of the old school. Hotch figured he should be ready for retirement within a couple of years, and looked forward to when his breed had finally died out of the bureau. "Agent McAllister, we suspect that the UnSub..."

"Killer."

"...UnSub could be someone who works at the Academy, possibly another agent. This needs to be kept under wraps so that the UnSub is unaware that Agent Mansfield has been found," Hotch said, his voice turning quiet as was his nature to do when angry.

"Why? I need more than that Agent Hotchner."

"Actually, you don't. This is a current investigation, and although it falls under your jurisdiction, it's still under mine. I can spend ten minutes explaining to you here and now why this needs to remain secret, or I can let you get on with your job now, and we can discuss this later in my office," Hotch said, maintaining that same quiet force to his tone. He wanted McAllister in his office, on his terms, and not McAllister bulldozing through his team in his usual manner.

McAllister shot him a look and walked off, and Hotch hoped he'd said enough. He looked at Boyd, whose skin had turned a pale shade of purple, probably due to him controlling the urge to land one on McAllister's jaw. "I'll take you back to Quantico," Hotch said. "You shouldn't be driving."

Boyd nodded, casting his eyes downwards. "Will this be McAllister's case?" he said, sounding desperate.

Hotch shook his head. "No. He'll need to have some involvement, but I know that they've got an ongoing murder enquiry that's gaining a lot of media attention. We did the profile for them a few weeks ago, but they're nowhere near closer to finding the UnSub. It's more likely to be shared between the BAU and your team, with someone from McAllister's liaising." He walked out of the apartment and towards the elevator, Boyd half a step behind.

"As long as it's not McAllister," Boyd said, his eyes dark.

Hotch nodded. He could agree with that.

There was a trickle of something warm running down her face, and it took a couple of seconds for her to realise that it was blood. She smelt the iron of it and a wave of nausea hit her. Forcing herself to focus on the pattern of her breath she sat up, looking around her. Shock wore off quickly these days, it had to; she needed to be aware of what was going on around her with a clear mind.

Neighbours and passers-by were now congregating, the sound of sirens in the distance. Someone would have called the fire department, rightly so, and no doubt they would have the local PD here any second.

Emily stood up, looking towards Rossi who was now on his feet as well. He was speaking to Janine, reassuring her, and sending her back towards the house where Ms. Fletcher was standing. Emily was aware of her shouting to them, panicking. Understandably, she would think that the explosion was an attack against her.

"That wasn't meant to hurt," Rossi said, stepping towards her. "That was another one meant to scare and intimidate. He's almost using terrorist tactics."

She nodded. "How did he know we were here? Unless the bomb was attached when it was in the parking lot and on a timer?"

Rossi shrugged. "Maybe. It'll be checked by one of the experts and we'll know more then. I should call Hotch," he said, pulling out his cell phone. "I think you should go check on Janine and Juliet. See if you can get Janine to start making that list – just make sure that Juliet is occupied elsewhere otherwise she'll taint what Janine remembers."

Emily nodded, glad of the direction and the chance to pull herself together. The local PD arrived as she walked through the gates, making a beeline for Rossi. Within a few minutes she would expect Morgan to be here, Hotch as well; she just needed to hold it together until then.

Juliet was standing at the front door, her arms folded. "Is it the same person who has Alfie who did that?" she said. "Is this Keeley's fucking group's work?"

Emily wanted to shake her for a second, to take her away from her self-centred world. "We don't think so, Ms. Fletcher," she said, remaining calm. "We believe it's connected with something else. Would you be able to make us some coffee, please?"

The woman nodded. "Sure. Is there going to be a load of media people there? If there is, Geoff..."

"They'll be given a reason why we were here that will have nothing to do with your son or Mr. Thompson," Emily said. "I need to speak with Janine."

"Why? Why is she so important all of a sudden? Alfie's my son..."

"We will speak with you about it later, Ms. Fletcher," Emily firmly, an unavoidable trace of annoyance in her tone. "I really need to speak with Janine." She left her still standing at the doorway.

Janine was in the sunroom, seated on the arm of one of the chairs and looking out of the window. Her posture sagged, and it didn't take a profiler to realise what the young woman was going through. She hadn't suffered any cuts or bruises from the explosion. Emily unconsciously brushed fingers against her temple, then shook her hair so it was a little looser, covering the cut that was beginning to throb.

"The explosion wasn't meant for you," Emily said, keeping a little distance from Janine, not wanting to encroach on her space. "It was nothing to do with what's going on here."

Janine turned around slowly, dark hair tumbling out of the braid it was tied back in. "We could have died," she said. "We could have been in that car."

Emily shook her head. "No," she said softly. "Whoever set off the explosion wanted to scare us, not hurt us. Janine, I really need you to try to focus back on the people you saw in the park, or walking past this house."

Janine did nothing for a moment, just staring out the window. "I'll get some paper," she said eventually. "I'll start to write down the people who are regulars. I don't know all their names."

Emily nodded. "Write down as much information as you can about how they were with Alfie. How interested in him were they? How did he respond to them? We're looking for someone he wouldn't be frightened by because he didn't make any noise when he was taken; it's someone he would trust."

Janine looked at her grimly. "I told Juliet we should have called the police right away. Alfie could be anywhere by now, with anyone. This is such a mess."

"Do you think Jennifer Keeley has anything to do with it?" Emily said, still giving Janine distance.

"No. I didn't from the start. It was just the safest thing to assume, and Geoff encouraged Ju to think that. I think he was petrified of the police being involved," she said, stepping over to a side table and pulling out a pad of lined paper from a drawer. "Do you have a pen?"

Emily rummaged in her jacket pocket and pulled one out, handing it to Janine.

"Thanks. This might take me some time." It was a dismissal, and one Emily was quite happy to take. Janine seemed more grounded than Alfie's mother, but her hands were tied to a certain extent with what she could say. Rossi had been right to want to get her to their office, where they could interview her on neutral ground, out of Juliet's earshot.

Emily heard a familiar voice coming from the hallway. "I'll leave you to it," she said to Janine. "We made need you to come with us shortly."

Janine nodded. "I think I could do with getting out here for a while," she said. "Juliet's wanted me here constantly since Alfie disappeared, and I need a change of scenery. Plus what's just happened has kind of made me nervous."

"You're not the only one," Emily said, closing the door to the sun room as she left.

Hotch was in the hallway, talking in quiet tones to Rossi. Both men looked up as she appeared.

"Are you okay?" Hotch said. He turned away from the other man, and Emily was sure Rossi hid a smile. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head. "Just a cut. It's nothing. What's happening out there?"

"Chadd Hillier is there with his team to look at the bomb. Agent Boyd's there too. We were on our way back from Mansfield's apartment when I got Rossi's call," Hotch said. She could feel his eyes examining her, checking for injuries.

"Agent Mansfield?" she said, knowing by his tone that not everything was as it should be.

Hotch gave her the look she'd seen too many times before.

"No," she said. "How?" If it had been a bomb they would have known about it sooner.

"He was shot; a few days ago in his apartment. Agent McAllister's there now with his team. We need to get you back to the BAU and have you give statements. And Emily, you need to clean up that cut before it gets infected," Hotch said, his piercing eyes directed at her temple.

She touched it self-consciously, her fingers coming away reddened by the blood. She had forgotten about the pain and had thought it had stopped. "Janine's in the sun room, making a list of people," she said, looking at Rossi. "She's quite anxious to be elsewhere, and I don't think that's because of what just happened." Her voice was now low; she was unsure of where Juliet was.

"You head back with Hotch," Rossi said. "I'll take Janine back with me once she's done with the list. Then I'll go through it with her once we get back. Juliet's going to stay here with a couple of agents. We'll have to up the security in case the explosions are a coincidence and that one wasn't intended for us at all."

Hotch nodded. "We know that's not the case. The UnSub is sure to have been waiting somewhere, probably concealed in the park behind were you were parked. He would have wanted to have seen your reaction. This is all about creating fear."

"Why?" Emily said. "We see things all the time that cause fear. What's he trying to achieve?"

Hotch moved his eyes from the floor to Emily. "I don't know. But whatever it is, I doubt he's finished yet."

A door opening caused Emily to look towards it. Agent Boyd stood there, his complexion almost grey. "Agent Reid's on his way," he said. "I'm going to hang around here with the bomb disposal team – I'll catch a ride back with them."

"I'll take Janine back with Reid," Rossi said. "You and Emily head back. And Hotch,"

Hotch turned around, already heading to the door.

"I think you should consider booking the team and Agent Boyd into hotels tonight. It may be too risky to stay anywhere obvious."

Hotch nodded. "I speak with Strauss and consider the risk."

Emily followed him outside, the area around them now cordoned off while Hillier did his work. He would secure the vehicle, making sure there were no more devices, and then look around to see if any more had been placed, such as in trash barrels. Then forensics would come in, searching in the vicinity for clues as to who had been there.

Hotch walked swiftly to the car, giving a brief nod to Hillier who saluted them in his usual comedic manner. A couple of agents from Hillier's team had remained with the vehicles, making sure there were no further attempts to wire them up to more explosives.

Emily climbed into the passenger's side, closing her eyes as she sat back, a hand holding a handkerchief to her temple, although the blood had stopped now. She felt overwhelmingly exhausted and just wanted to sleep, but that wasn't an option; not yet.

"Are you okay, Emily?" he said quietly, as they drove off.

"I'm tired," she said, not wanting to show a weakness, but unable to lie. "I feel like I can't think straight. Maybe I'm in shock or something."

"Possibly," Hotch said. "Why don't you lie down on the sofa in my office for an hour? I have to see Strauss immediately. We need to put procedures into place to support our safety. There'll only be so many attempts at trying to scare us before he goes for more."

Any other day she would have rejected even the thought of sleeping on the job, especially when a child was still missing, but today she felt tempted. "I should be helping Morgan and Rossi," she said. "We're running low anyway. I can't afford time to nap."

"You'll be able to think better after you've had time to reenergise," he said. "Just take an hour."

She almost nodded, the lull of the engine and Hotch's presence making her more drowsy, drowsy enough that she was almost oblivious to the hand he put on her thigh, squeezing it softly.

Please review

Sarah x

As an added note, Joe Mantegna is on Twitter and tweets pretty frequently, sometimes with photos from the set. Some of you might be interested in following.