A/N: My apologies on how slow I've been updating my stories. I've been really busy and not particularly happy with the show itself. Most of you probably have heard that Jeanne Tripplehorn is the new profiler on the show and while I have nothing against the actress, she's not going to get me to tune in and without Paget Brewster there, Criminal Minds has fallen off of my "what to watch list" for the week. Maybe I'll tune in for an episode, but it's doubtful. However, I will still continue my stories, but I'm basically stopping with the Season 7 timeline and anything past it simply does not exist for me. I also did not expect the NCIS crew to be so prominently featured in this story, but Gibbs and Company have just been so insistent! I hope you enjoy and if you have a chance let me know what you think. I am trying to make this a bit of a mystery/case fic but with a good dash of romance in it as well.
"I put your go bag in the guest room in the back," Rossi told Hotch as he tossed his friend an extra set of house keys. They'd agreed that it would be best for Hotch to stay at Rossi's house as well.
"When is your flight to Chicago?" Hotch asked as he pocketed the keys.
"In about ninety minutes so Reid and I have to go now," Rossi replied. "When are you and Prentiss talking to Rachel Burkhart?"
"Prentiss is trying to track her down now, but we probably won't visit her until tomorrow when I'm feeling more like myself." Hotch cursed the weakness he was feeling in his body, the effects of whatever he might have been dosed with. If only he could remember what happened to him last night!
Rossi gazed sympathetically at the younger man. "Just rest up, but if you don't feel any better or feel worse, get to the hospital. We can't be sure what Beth might have given you."
"Are we even sure this is all Beth?" Hotch asked Rossi. He sat slowly down. "I know everything seems to point to her, but what if it's someone else?"
"She's all we have to go on now and until Dr. Mallard can confirm that is Beth Clemmons in the morgue, I'm putting my money on her being behind all this," Rossi stated grimly. His eyes softened when he took in Hotch's brooding countenance. "Aaron, none of this is your fault," he said gently, correctly reading the younger man's body language. "You couldn't have known she would turn out to be unstable."
"But I should have," Hotch cried out in exasperation. He flopped back more deeply into the couch. "I'm a profiler, Dave! I should have seen the signs!"
"You saw them, but you didn't know how serious they were," Dave responded in a firm tone. "Look, you knew enough to break it off. You just didn't realize she would spin so out of control."
"And now Emily is caught up in this mess," was Hotch's gloomy reply.
"Emily is and will be fine. She's a big girl and she understands this is nothing you had any control over."
"That's not true. I could have not been a complete idiot and realized that any woman who knew my training routine so well was a potential danger."
"Then you might as well be pissed off at me too. You told me about that and I still encouraged you to pursue a relationship."
"I make my own decisions, Dave." Hotch sighed. "No, this is completely my mess. None of you should be dragged into it."
"It's what families are for," Dave replied in a comforting voice. "We watch each others' backs, celebrate our victories and take our lumps together."
"I just wish there were more victories than lumps," Aaron noted wryly.
"Well, maybe we're due for some victories." Rossi looked up as he heard a noise and Reid and Emily came into the room. JJ had left earlier to work from home tapping her contacts for any useful information. "All set?" Dave asked Spencer.
Reid nodded and held up his go bag. They were taking a late flight out and would need to stay at least one night in Chicago. "Hopefully Richard Martin and Mary Logan's families will have information for us."
"We shouldn't be gone more than a day," Rossi continued as Hotch and Emily walked the other two agents to Rossi's car.
"Be careful," Hotch warned them.
"You two as well," Rossi returned. He gave them a significant look. "Whether Beth is behind this or not, we know there's someone out there who has it in for you. Keep your eyes open, both of you."
"Aye, aye," Emily gave him a mock salute.
"No smartass comments," Rossi reprimanded her as Hotch frowned at her flippant attitude.
"I'll keep an eye on her," Hotch replied in a serious tone. Emily huffed out an annoyed breath and rolled her eyes at this.
Rossi made some type of grumbling noise as Reid gave Emily a small grin. She and Hotch watched the two men drive away until the car disappeared from sight as it rounded a corner.
Back inside, Emily fired up Garcia's laptop once more and began a search for Rachel Burkhart. Curious, Hotch sat down next to her to look over her shoulder. Like the rest of the team, Prentiss typically left all the computer research to Garcia. He had never seen her do this before. However, as he watched her fingers fly over the keyboard and database after database being magically called up, he realized there was still more about Emily he did not know.
"I don't remember computer hacking listed among your skills," Hotch said dryly when he saw she had accessed the Maryland DMV.
"I'm no Garcia, but can get by if necessary," Emily replied absently. "In the CIA when you're out in the field, you're essentially on your own so you'd better have a variety of skills. Found her." She pulled up Rachel Burkhart's information. She wrote down the woman's address and phone number. She looked at Hotch. "Call or surprise her?"
"Surprise. If we call ahead of time she might refuse to talk to us," Hotch noted.
Emily nodded and then took in the tired lines on Hotch's face. "Maybe you should get some rest. It's been a long, trying day for you."
While crawling into bed and going to sleep held an enormous amount of appear to Hotch, now that he was alone with Emily, he had a chance to do what he's wanted to do since he heard Beth had been targeting his colleague.
"Emily, I'm sorry you've been pulled into this entire mess," he apologized in a rueful tone. "I had no idea that Beth would fixate on you. What she did, setting up those cameras in your apartment…I can't begin to apologize for putting you through that."
An uncomfortable look came over her face. Emily wouldn't admit it to anyone, but knowing she had been watched for who knows how long, during her most private and unguarded moments, it left her feeling exposed and vulnerable. Though a small part of her felt some resentment towards Hotch for this entire situation, she knew he was not to blame and she was not going to burden him with any additional guilt. She merely shook her head. "It's not your fault. It's Beth's doing, not yours."
"But I brought her into our lives," Hotch retorted. He sighed and rubbed his face with a weary hand. "She thought there was something between us."
"Well, she's delusional," the brunette replied promptly. She let out sharp laugh. "I don't think anyone can believe there's something between us."
Her words both surprised and annoyed Hotch. While the rational side of him knew she was likely talking about their subordinate/supervisor relationship and how neither would jeopardize that or their careers, his ego smarted from what could be an insult. Wasn't he attractive to Emily?
"Well, it's not outside of the realm of possibility," he remarked in a low tone.
Hotch wasn't aware of what he was doing, but he was leaning closer towards Emily as he spoke. He may not have been aware, but she certainly was. Emily licked her lips, a nervous tick she had not been able to control. The motion caught his gaze and his eyes flickered towards her mouth.
Feeling uncomfortable and awkward by Hotch's proximity, Emily tried to shift casually away from him. "If she resented the team, she would have focused on one of us, if not all of us. You couldn't have known she would fixate on me."
"I should have recognized the signs sooner. Stopped it sooner."
"And do what? She hadn't broken any laws that you knew of. Being jealous isn't illegal."
"But we would've been on our guard." Hotch reached out to cover her hand with his, needing to provide her with some type of reassurance, no matter how clumsy. His heart gave a curious little leap when he felt the soft, warm skin of her hand under this. "Found those cameras sooner, maybe." Moreso than his current situation, he was troubled most by the invasion of Emily's privacy, that violation. He knew Emily was as private as he was. To have prying eyes invade her sanctuary was close to a physical violation. It infuriated him that he played a part in it in some way, no matter how minor or unwitting.
More and more often, Hotch had felt this overwhelming need to protect Emily. He initially dismissed it as a residual effect of their experience with Doyle and how close he had come to losing her completely when the Irishman almost killed her. However, instead of the feeling diminishing with her return, it seemed to grow stronger and stronger with each passing day. Now hearing this illicit invasion into Emily's life had his instincts on over-drive. Instinctively, his hand tightened on hers, relishing the tactile feel of her skin against his, warm and soft and real. It reassured him that she was still here, that she wasn't far away in Paris, her fate unknown. She looked up into his eyes, startled by the motion and realizing they were still joined together. Simultaneously, they withdrew from each other's grasp, separating their unwitting physical connection. For a few moments, an awkward silence descended upon the couple. Casting about for something to say, Emily finally asked,
"Are you hungry? You ate very little at lunch. I can make something."
Emily had retreated a few steps back, creating more distance between them and he felt the loss of her warmth and presence. He could still feel how her skin pressed against his. Hotch was startled by the impact of the loss and to hide his surprise and discomfort, shoved his hands into his pants pockets.
"Uh, yeah, I could do with something to eat, but I can't let you do all the work. Let me help. I'm pretty good around the kitchen."
Emily nodded and a few minutes later they found themselves pulling together a meal of pasta and salad.
As they did in the field, they worked easily and well together, a simple dance that had each anticipating the needs of the other. He would hand her a wooden spoon before she could form her request. She would point to the colander when he simply said her name. It felt so natural and normal that their earlier discomfort faded away and soon they were back to their easy relationship.
They worked efficiently and quickly and soon they were sitting down to their dinner. Alcohol was out of the question until they knew exactly with what Hotch had been drugged. He however did feel his appetite returning to him and he started to wolf down his food. Emily looked at him with amusement.
"Hey, take it easy there. Don't eat too much or it might come back up on you." She gave him a smile that filled him with warmth. He found himself smiling back at her.
"I guess in deference to Dave's hospitality, I should make sure I don't foul up one of his bathrooms." He did slow down his pace.
It was almost cozy, the two of them eating together and it reminded him of another meal they had shared, at a diner when he demanded she tell him of her bad day. Then Beth had found them, interrupting the rapport he had started to build with Emily. But even that brief interruption didn't prevent them from talking the rest of the night away when he drove her back to her apartment. He had thought Emily would begin to start talking to him, trusting him, but after that night, she had actually pulled back from him. He was surprised and not a little hurt. He was uncertain whether he should confront her and find out why she had become more reserved after it appeared they were getting close, but that decision was taken out of his hands when Beth had become more demanding and suspicious. Emily had to wait as he dealt with and eventually broke up with Beth, but he was still determined to find out why Prentiss had pulled away from him.
"Abs! Abby!" Gibbs called out as he hurried into the young Goth's lab carrying the usual fee of an extra large CafPow.
"Over here!" a muffle voice called out.
"Abby?" Gibbs looked around and saw a pair of long legs peeking out from underneath one of Abby's larger machines. He recognized it as Major Mass Spec.
"Gibbs!" came the plaintive cry. "Help! I'm stuck!"
"Abby?" He grasped her legs by her ankles, glad she was wearing pants today, and pulled her out with a sharp tug. He heard the rip of cloth and saw that one of the belt loops on her pants had torn loose from the cargo pants she was wearing.
"Finally!" the young woman gasped out as Gibbs helped her to her feet. "I go under Major Mass Spec to get a tube that rolled under there and he traps me!" She twisted around to try to assess the damage to her pants.
"Just a torn belt loop, Abs, no real damage," Gibbs assured her. "Now, what do you have for me?"
"Geez Gibbs, allow me to recover from my traumatic experience. I found the source of that smell that's been bothering me for two days." She held up what used to be an apple. "Remind me not to let DiNozzo bring food into my lab again."
"Abs, focus," Gibbs ordered, a hint of irritation in his voice. "What have you got on those samples Ducky brought to you?"
Abby was familiar with Gibbs' tones, and she knew this was the one that required her to answer him quickly. Additionally, she too wanted a resolution to the case that Ducky outlined for her. Unlike Gibbs, she didn't have anything against Agent Hotchner. He was always polite to her and she knew Emily liked the man. Since he wasn't a total jerk and Emily liked him, Abby was willing to be somewhat more tolerant of him. Besides, she couldn't imagine Agent Hotchner murdering anyone and Abby wasn't going to stand by and let an innocent man be charged with murder.
"I didn't find anything in Agent Hotchner's blood, but if it was something like GHB, it's been too long for any trace of it to remain in his blood."
"Got any other news for me," Gibbs asked, not pleased with the lack of evidence that would help Hotchner.
"Maybe," Abby replied. "If it was GHB, it metabolizes in the blood after 4-8 hours, in urine about 12 hours. However, if it was given to Agent Hotchner in a drink, there would still be traces of it in the glass."
Gibbs shook his head. "If there were any glasses, they're in control of DC Metro."
"What about the clothes he wore last night? If he was feeling the effects of the drug, he could have spilled some of his drink on himself."
Gibbs looked at his young friend for a moment and then grinned. He kissed her gently on the cheek. "Smart girl." He spun on his heel and left the lab, pulling out his cell phone. Abby could hear him saying, "Emily? Ask Hotchner what he did with the clothes he wore last night."
"Any luck yet?" Morgan asked Garcia as he brought up a plate of food for her.
"No!" the blonde snapped. She sighed and glanced apologetically at Morgan. "Sorry, I'm just so frustrated right now. This signal is bouncing all over the world and I can't get a lock on it." She shook her head grimly. "Whoever is doing this is good. I mean my level good." She looked at the plate Morgan set down next to her. "You have Mrs. Mundy cooking for you?"
"Hey! I didn't ask for it, she offered! Besides, I consider it payment. That woman has had me moving furniture and getting things for her all afternoon." Garcia could see that Morgan looked physically tired and he was somewhat sweaty. He had taken off his leather jacket and stood there in his short-sleeved t-shirt that clearly defined his sculpted body. Any other time she would have enjoyed the view, but she was bothered by the thoughts that had filling her head the past hour. Not having a poker face at all, her expression told Morgan there was something else on his friend's mind.
"What's bothering you, Baby Girl?"
"Derek, do we really think Beth had the tech skills for something like this?"
Morgan sighed. "I don't know, Momma. If she is obsessed with Hotch, this isn't what she would be doing, setting him up for her murder." He shook his head. "Emily would be the target, not Hotch."
"So we could be looking at someone else being responsible," Garcia replied.
"Someone we know nothing about."