Hi. I know, it's been a long time. And I am so, so sorry about that. I went away on vacation recently and that was when I was able to write this chapter. I hope I can update more frequently from now on. Enjoy the chapter!

The next morning Hotch woke up a few minutes before seven. It took him several seconds to remember where he was. Memories washed over him: Emily showing up at his cabin in New York, them kissing on the couch, flying home, seeing the team again, and best of all, talking to Jack.

Hotch had never felt more rejuvenated and exhausted at the same time.

Pushing himself into a sitting position, Hotch rubbed his eyes. His fingers drifted down to his beard. I'll have to shave that, he thought. Standing up, he went to the bathroom before grabbing Emily's cell phone and moving out into the hallway. At first he thought she wasn't awake, but then he heard movement downstairs in the kitchen.

Emily was wearing a bathrobe over her pajamas. Her back was to him as she stood in front of the counter making coffee. Clearing his throat, Hotch watched as she spun around.

"Oh!" She smiled. "Good morning."

"Morning." He placed her phone in the counter and met her eyes. "Thank you so much for last night."

"Knew you needed it." She held up her mug. "Coffee?"

"Please," Hotch answered, sitting down on one of the bar stools. She fixed him a cup and stood across from him. Silence dominated the room for a few moments while Hotch sipped his drink.

"Did you sleep well?" Emily asked finally.

Hotch nodded. He eyed her hands, longing to take them, but something held him back. Instead he asked, "Are you going in?"

"Yeah. We're planning on reopening the Finch investigation." She watched him closely, gauging his reaction. His face remained stoic, as usual, though Emily noticed how he tightened his grip on the mug.

"You'll have to stay here," she continued. "No one-"

"Can know I'm here," he finished. "I know."

Emily bit her lip. She hated seeing him like this. Slowly, she slid her hand across the counter and rested it on his. After a moment, he twisted his around so their fingers were laced together.

"Emily," he started, but she cut him off.

"It's okay, Hotch. I understand." She began to untangle her hand from his, but he held on, not letting her move.

"No, it's not," he insisted, staring at their hands. "I've been pushing you away, and you don't deserve that."

"You've had your life flipped upside down these past few days," she replied evenly. "It's a major change, and with everything that's going on I would actually be surprised of you accepted me with open arms."

For a brief second Hotch looked hurt at the implication that he pushed people away, then deflated. "Still, after what happened in New York… What we said, I mean. I just-"

"Hotch," she interrupted. She looked him straight in the eye. "I know."

A silent "I love you" passed between them as Hotch squeezed her hand. They stayed there for a while before Hotch drew away.

"You should get ready," he said, a frown appearing on his face. Emily sighed and nodded, heading back upstairs.

Hotch wasn't going to be able to stand staying in her apartment all day while the team worked to clear his name. Emily knew that because she was the same way. They would rather be with the team, combing through leads and evidence.

The frown that had graced Hotch's face only moments ago stayed in her mind as she got dressed. It was a lost look, an empty look. Remaining inside probably made him feel useless; the same way he must have felt when Jack and Haley were sent into witness protection.

When she returned to the kitchen, she saw that Hotch hadn't moved. Wincing, she continued to get ready for work, keeping a close eye on him. After putting it off for as long as she could, Emily was ready to leave. She stood in the middle of the room, pretending to adjust her bag strap. Of course, Hotch saw right through her.

"You're going to be late," he said quietly.

Emily hesitated. "Maybe I could-"

"Don't even think about it," he said sternly. "The team needs you." He softened. "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" she asked, playing with her bag.

He stood up and walked around the counter. Placing his hands on her waist, he pulled her in and kissed her. It was soft and reassuring, and Emily felt a bit more at ease.

"Alright," Emily whispered when they separated. "But you have to let me come by for lunch."

For the first time all morning, he smiled, though it was tiny. "It's your apartment."

Grinning, Emily left, giving Hotch a quick kiss before heading out the door. As soon as it thudded shut, the frown returned to his face.

When Emily entered the round table room twenty minutes later, everyone else was already seated. Case files were splayed across the surface, and Reid was already poring over one.

"How is he?" Rossi asked, coffee mug in hand. The rest of the team raised their eyes and listened to Emily's answer.

"As well as can be expected," she responded, dropping into a chair. "You know he hates being sidelined."

"It's for his safety," Rossi reminded her.

"I know, I just feel bad for him." She bit her lip. "He talked to Jack last night."

Everyone's head swiveled to face her, their expressions worried and surprised.

"Are you sure that's safe?" Morgan asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Jack won't tell anyone," Emily said. "Hotch needed it. Badly."

Rossi eyed her for a long time. She started to squirm when he finally broke the silence.

"What's going on with you two?"

Emily kept her face blank. "I'm sorry?"

"Yeah, what's going on?" Morgan chimed in, leaning forward. "You two seemed off yesterday."

"He just came home after three months!" she exclaimed. "Of course he would seem off!"

"But why were you two holding hands?" Rossi countered. Emily glared at him.

"When were you guys holding hands?" Garcia demanded, perking up.

"At the airport," Rossi said smugly. Everyone stared at Emily.

Mind racing, she said the first thing that came to mind. "He needed the support." That wasn't a lie.

"Right," Rossi drawled. "I'm sure that's why."

"Shouldn't we be working?" Emily suggested, dragging a file over. The team merely smirked and followed her lead.

For the next few hours, the BAU sifted through countless files. Occasionally they would share something new, but for the most part it was silent.

Unfortunately for them, Finch had been unnervingly silent since Hotch's disappearance. His credit card records were like that of a normal person: gas, groceries, the usual. He had abstained from causing any trouble on the streets, and there hadn't been any disturbances in his neighborhood.

"Maybe we're looking at this wrong," JJ suggested after two and a half hours, rubbing her neck.

"How so?" Reid asked, cocking his head.

"We need to look at the bigger picture," JJ declared. "Now, what kind of person is Finch?"

"A narcisst," Reid answered. "Puts himself above others."

"He was willing to sacrifice the right-hand man just to frame Hotch," Morgan mused. "He lets them do the dirty work."

"Garcia," Rossi said. "Look at Finch's cronies."

"Already on it." She tapped various keys on her laptop. "Okay, my fearless crime fighters, here's the sitch: After Carl Henderson died, Finch appointed a new lieutenant, and word on the street is he's named Travis Scott. Before you ask, yes, I'm pulling up credit card records now." She gasped after a moment. "Oh, guys…"

"What?" asked Emily.

"Scott bought a round-trip ticket a month ago to Sand Lake, New York."

Dread filled the team, and they shared looks of horror. Emily's heart sank to her stomach.

"They knew?" she whispered.

"We don't know that," Rossi said, a troubled expression on his face.

"What else can that mean?" Emily sputtered. "It's not likely that Finch's new right-hand man would buy a plane ticket to a small town in upstate New York for fun."

"But if they knew he was there," Reid interjected, "why didn't they do anything to him?"

"They have something bigger planned," Rossi said grimly.

"What?" Garcia asked, her eyes wide.

"I don't know." Rossi shrugged. "We just have to be ready for whatever it is."

Emily raced home at lunch time, not even stopping to pick up food. After learning that Finch knew where Hotch had been hiding, she needed to see him. She needed to be sure he was okay, to see it with her own eyes.

"Hotch?" she called as she entered her apartment.

"I'm here," he answered, his voice almost bored.

She hurried farther into the apartment and saw him lying on the couch watching a random talk show. He was still in his pajamas, though Emily didn't blame him for that. When he looked at her he must have noticed the worry on her face, for he sat up immediately.

"What's wrong?"

She forced a smile. "Nothing."

"What's wrong?" he repeated. His eyes begged her to answer, and she slowly sat down next to him. He placed his hand on top of hers in an attempt to soothe her.

"Finch's new second-in-command," she started, "recently brought a plane ticket to Sand Lake, New York."

Hotch's eyes widened, and his whole body tensed. He cleared his throat.

"When?"

Emily licked her lips. "A month ago."

Hotch almost removed his hand from hers, but she held on.

"A month," he echoed lowly. "They've known for a month."

"And you're still okay," she said in what she hoped was a comforting voice. "They haven't hurt you."

"Yet," he said dryly. "Now that I'm back in their area, I'm up for grabs. So is anyone who-"

"Don't even finish that sentence," Emily warned. "Dont't even think about it." She gripped Hotch's hand. "We're in this together. We are all here for you."

He was quiet for a moment before offering a wan smile. "I know. I just don't want you or the team to get hurt. You guys mean too much to me."

"We'll be fine," she insisted, blinking back tears. She was constantly reminded of how the team was Hotch's only family, with his brother living in New York, father being dead, and not having a good relationship with his mother.

Hotch stared at her before kissing her lightly.

"How's the team?"

Emily leaned back on the couch, and Hotch followed suit, keeping their hands together. "Same as yesterday. Happy you're back, worried about you, determined to find Finch..." Her voice trailed off.

"Worried about me?" He furrowed his eyebrows. "Why?"

She gave him an incredulous look. "Seriously?" He nodded. "They're worried about how you're adjustin to being back. And about Finch, obviously."

"Well, they don't have to be." He gave her a pointed look. "I'm adjusting just fine, and we'll catch Finch."

Emily squeezed her hand. "I know."

After an enjoyable hour with Hotch, Emily returned to the BAU, refreshed and ready to get back to work. However, as she stepped off the elevator, she saw the one person she wished not to see.

"Agent Prentiss," Section Chief Erin Strauss greeted crisply. "I was wondering where you were."

Emily's heart sped up. "Taking my lunch break, m'am. Is that not allowed?"

Strauss raised her eyebrows. "Of course not. I just would have thought you would go with your team members, yet they all stayed here."

Emily struggled to keep her cool. "I met a friend."

Strauss nodded slowly. "I see." She glanced through the glass doors to the round table room. "What are you all working on?" She turned back to Emily, a suspicious look on her face. "A new case?"

"Cold cases, m'am," Emily responded, maintaining eye contact. After a moment Strauss looked away and began to continue down the hall.

"Just as long as you're using your time wisely," she called. "Wouldn't want you to waste your time on pointless cases." Emily remained standing there until Strauss disappeared.

Strauss may think it was pointless, but the innocence of the man she loved was on the line, and she wasn't going to give up until he was cleared.

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