You all continue to make me smile with your lovely reviews - my heartfelt thanks.

A few of you asked for another Gideon one, reflecting how his thoughts on Emily since his initial skepticism...so here it is! It's tagged to season 2's "Legacy".

Happy reading =)

"You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty." – Mahatma Gandhi

"Well crime-fighters, it's past my bedtime, so I'm heading back to my lair. Well, my personal, non-work lair, that is," Garcia says as she stands up from her seat as the film's credits begin to appear.

"Yeah, me too. Wait up, Baby Girl. I'll walk you out," Morgan says as he jumps up to stand beside Garcia.

"Oh, how you spoil me, noble gentleman."

"Night all," Morgan says as he wraps an arm around Garcia and they head out toward the bullpen.

"Goodnight, my pretties!" she calls and waves her hand above her head.

"I should probably head home too. I can barely keep my eyes open," JJ says, putting down the bowl of popcorn.

"I'll go with you," Reid says quickly, earning an amused look from Hotch and Prentiss and an "Atta boy, kid!" from Morgan out in the bullpen. Reid's eyes widen as he realizes the implication of his words. "I mean, I'll walk out with you," he stutters. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you all the significance of safety in numbers," he finishes before following JJ out the door.

"You headed home too, Hotch?" I ask, but know he'll probably disappear into his office.

"Just a bit of paperwork first," he says. "Have a good night," he says with a quick nod to myself and Prentiss.

"You need any help putting this stuff away?" Prentiss asks as she gets up from her seat.

"If you don't mind."

"Not at all," she says and begins to roll the screen back up. "Why'd you bring it in, anyway?"

"I bring it in for the cadets near the end of their term with me," I explain.

"Why?" she asks, halting her actions and turning to face me.

"To remind them they need to find a strategy for dealing with everything this job brings."

"Something to remind them of their humanity," she says in understanding.

"Precisely. And what better to do that then laughter?"

She nods in agreement and resumes her task of taking down the screen. I let my gaze linger on her for a moment as my mind recalls all the reservations and concerns Hotch and I held when she first joined the team. She'd shown up out of the blue, and both of us were convinced it was a political play by Strauss. With her political background, it was certainly possible her parents and Strauss had crossed paths, and the daughter of an apparently wildly successful businessman and highly-regarded diplomat would no doubt have aspirations to climb the ladder. And those kind of aspirations all too often lead to deals and agreements that don't foster a healthy work environment.

But she'd quickly proven herself to be a proficient profiler and a more than capable agent. She'd fallen into a comfortable partnership with Morgan, and after a bit of a rocky beginning between them, she and Spencer had bonded over science-fiction. Garcia, JJ and her had bonded quickly and are already becoming thick as thieves if the stories are true. Hotch knows she's settled into the team, and affords her the courtesy of trusting his colleagues' judgment for the most part. He still has his reservations, but he has those about everyone. He sees her as a valuable part of the team now, and if I'm honest with myself, so do I. Yes, her unique knowledge of languages has proven useful, but it's more the fact that she isn't anything like what we expected that has really let her become a part of this team.

I head to my office after grabbing the projector, Prentiss following closely behind with the screen. I deposit the projector back onto my desk, and gesture for her to lean the screen against the far wall.

"Care for a quick match?" I ask, noticing her eyes have settled onto my chess board.

"I…" she begins to politely decline but apparently changes her mind. "Yeah, sure."

We sit down and I start the game by moving a pawn. We trade moves for a few minutes in silence, our pace markedly different from when I play Spencer. I'm reminded of our first chess match on the jet on the way home from Guantanamo Bay. She had surprised me with her skill then, and I find I'm just as surprised this time around. She doesn't seem to fall into the same traps that Spencer often does.

"What's your strategy for dealing with this job?" I ask, breaking the silence. My curiosity had gotten the better of me when I realized that I didn't know what she does to battle the lingering demons of a tough case. I have Charlie Chaplin, Hotch has Jack, Spencer escapes into literature, Morgan has his remodels and renovations, Garcia volunteers at an animal shelter, and JJ visits Detective LaMontagne. But Prentiss? I'm really not sure what she does.

In a way it isn't surprising, because as much as we've learned about her and as much time as we've all spent with her, she's still mostly a mystery. Not much is known about her past, and she doesn't often give away hints of her personal life. But that's hardly something to hold against her. We've all got secrets that we keep. And if we're being honest, I'm not one to share tidbits about myself willingly either. Our desire for privacy is something we have in common. Still, for working with a team of expert profilers, it's a little surprising we haven't gleaned more about her by now.

She blinks and seems to struggle momentarily to form an answer. I watch as her eyes dart back and forth, her mind clearly trying to process a response.

"In my experience there isn't much that a glass of red wine and a long soak in a hot bath can't solve," she finally says with a smile. I scrutinize her for a moment before returning the smile in kind. Still, I can't help but wonder if she wasn't holding something back. "Definitely makes me feel human again," she adds after moving a rook.

"I cook," I say as I slide my queen over a few spaces. "When everything gets to be a little too much, I cook myself a nice meal and watch some of this genius' work," I finish, gesturing toward the projector.

"I didn't know you were into cooking," she says, surprise evident in her tone.

"Oh, I dabble here and there. There's just something about finding just the right combination of spices and flavours. It's so…"

"Rewarding?" she offers. I tilt my head as I consider it. "That's how it feels for me when I find a combination that works and makes those flavours combine and explode in your mouth."

I blink in surprise. "You cook?"

"I dabble here and there," she says with a smile, echoing my words. "We'll have to compare notes one day."

"I guess we will," I say, pleasantly surprised. "What's your specialty?"

She shrugs. "I don't really have one, though I've been told my paella is pretty good. What about you?"

"I stick with Italian dishes most of the time. But occasionally I branch out and try French."

"Mm," she hums in appreciation. "Both have such delicious dishes."

"That they do. But I suppose you got to enjoy quite a few different ethnic foods throughout your childhood," I say, remembering that she'd moved around frequently as a child.

"Yeah," she says with a nod. "Thankfully for my mother I was a rather adventurous child and loved trying new foods. I can just imagine her face if I'd tried to order a hot dog while in France," she chuckles.

I find myself laughing along with her. "Sacrilege," I utter dramatically before smiling.

"Indeed," she agrees as her eyes scan the board. They lock onto her queen and she moves it a few spaces, declaring "check" with a small grin, as though she's pleased with herself.

I move my king and watch as she begins to consider her options. "Why do you do this job?" I ask.

She looks up from the board and meets my gaze. "It's black and white," she says plainly. "I know what I'm doing is good, and I know what I'm battling against is evil. There's very little grey area involved, and that's a relief."

I consider her response. She'd come off a desk job in the Bureau, but clearly wasn't happy with how little meaningful impact she was having. Pushing paper wasn't enough for her, she needed to make a change to a job where she could feel and know that she was making a difference. But she could have just said that she liked making a difference. Instead she chose to distinguish between good and evil, which seems significant to me. Is it possible she'd once worked a case where the lines between good and bad were a bit fuzzy? Maybe she herself had to sit in that grey area, and that's why this job appeals to her more. It's got fairly clear distinctions between the agendas of good and bad. But you don't often run into a lot of grey area with paperwork… Suddenly I find myself wondering if she was actually riding a desk for the entirety of those 10 years.

"What made you want to get out from behind a desk and into the field?" I ask, watching her response carefully.

"There's only so much paperwork a person can handle," she explains with a smile. "I think if I'd stayed there I'd have gone crazy."

I smile to acknowledge her response before posing another question, watching her carefully. "Did you get any reprieve from that desk chair? Or were you stuck there for 10 years straight?"

She lets out a laugh. "They let me into the field occasionally…to handle paperwork on site," she finishes wryly.

"You're serious?"

"Afraid so," she says, sliding a pawn forward.

I shake my head and find myself wringing my hands. "You're a braver person than I," I joke lightly.

"Just serving my country, sir," she says with a grin.

I let out a half chuckle while moving a knight. "How are you enjoying it here?"

She lets out a light chuckle and I blink as I try to process her response. "Sorry," she apologizes. "My mother asked me the same question and I tried to explain that "enjoying it" seemed like a strange way to describe it."

I shrug. "I suppose it might be."

"But it's been a wonderful opportunity, and I can see why so many people want a chance to be on this team."

She grabs her remaining bishop and slides it a few spaces, a grin appearing on her face. "Checkmate."

"Huh," I say, slightly shocked by the quick turnaround of the game. "Well played," I concede.

"Thank you," she says politely. "But I should probably be going. Goodnight, sir. And thank you for sharing the genius of Charlie Chaplin. It was great."

"Night, Prentiss," I say with a nod.

I watch as she grabs her bag and heads toward the elevator. My mind goes over what I'd learned about her tonight and how it adds to what I already know. Those initial concerns and fears I had about her are essentially forgotten as she's proven herself worthy of being on this team. As it turns out, she isn't the political animal Hotch and I once assumed, but a dedicated and determined agent, and a damn good one at that. While we still don't know the majority of details about who exactly Emily Prentiss is, we do know that she's committed to this team, and seems to be fitting in nicely. And she definitely seems to be the type of person worth trying to find out those closely guarded details.

So...did I do Gideon's character justice? Was it sufficiently entertaining? Enlightening? Do I have you jonesing for more conversations? Do let me know, as I said up top, your reviews make me smile.

This one was nice to write because it included Gideon being decidedly not curmudgeonly! :D

As always - suggestions for conversations you'd like to see are always welcome. For those gently nudging me about some "Demily" ones...I have one or two that I'm working on, so fret not.

'til next time, friends!