Ticket to Heaven Nine

We must reckon with the possibility that something in the nature of the sexual instinct itself is unfavorable to the realization of complete satisfaction." Sigmund Frued

Hotch didn't know what to make of the impressions, and he knew the same was true for the rest of his group. Still, it would have to wait. He didn't want them out on the trail after nightfall either. It was just too damned cold for that.

He stood back as Harris offered Emily a hand up, holding the reins of the horse she'd ridden. She didn't back away from him. Hotch resisted the urge to growl. Had he ever felt that possessive over a woman in his lifetime?

No, and that was the worst part. He'd done nothing to claim the right to be possessive over Emily Prentiss, especially this quickly. One day, that's all it had been. He wasn't an obsessive man, not with women, anyway, so why was it suddenly all he could think about with her? Was he finally going over the edge? He had to get a handle on this, before she found out and it made things even more terribly awkward between them. He'd not put her in that position, no woman deserved that. And he'd not mess with his team, not like that. If he'd not want Dave to, then he couldn't either. Simple as that.

But that didn't mean he wanted to see her get involved with some man in the middle of nowhere. What could she and Harris really have in common? Emily was a sophisticated, highly intelligent federal agent. Harris was a part-time sheriff and full time cattle rancher. He'd hate to see her get hurt.

He momentarily contemplated whether or not he should speak to either of them before deciding it really wasn't any of his business. He'd just keep an eye on things, and if it started looking too serious, he'd send her out with Morgan and take JJ with him and Harris instead.

As they rode it got progressively colder. Harris paused once, pulling a blanket from behind his saddle and offering it to Prentiss. Hotch estimated they'd have another good hour before reaching Harris's ranch, and the temperature was getting almost painfully low. He fought the urge to suggest they ride faster. They couldn't afford someone getting injured out here. He would see to it that she was given something hot to drink as soon as they reached the ranch. She'd had a bit of a head cold a few days ago—the same one JJ had caught from Henry and brought into the BAU—and he definitely didn't want her coming down with pneumonia. That was the last thing they needed.

He almost thought they'd never arrive back at Harris's ranch. He also couldn't remember a time when he'd been so cold. He was first off his mount, moving quickly to her side. He had his hands up to assist her before he even realized he had moved.

He couldn't see her eyes hidden behind the big bug glasses. But she took his offered help and slid almost gracelessly off the horse. He could feel the shivers racking her frame and he pulled her as close to his side as possible while still keeping a respectable colleague distance between them. Several of Harris's men met them at the barn doors, ready to take the horses and see to their needs. Harris paused a moment to speak with his men.

Hotch kept Emily between him and Dave, and the three of them hurried up the steps into the house. JJ and Garcia met them at the door, blankets in hand and mugs of steaming coffee outstretched. Hotch took one from the younger blonde and held it while Emily removed her coat. Her cheeks were red, chapped from the cold—and made her eyes brighter. He handed her the first mug.

She thanked him before turning back to the two other women.

Hotch was oddly hurt that her focus moved so quickly away from him. Still, he understood it. They were casual work friends—he'd have to remind himself of that. He would. If he did decide to attempt to change that—and at that point he was of two minds—it would take time, probably months.

But he'd always been an impatient man, even though he rarely let it show since joining the BAU. Still, he understood the need for careful planning, for attention to every detail—especially with situations that truly mattered.

So he'd take his time developing a friendship with Prentiss.

JJ and Garcia hurried Prentiss away, the three of them heading quickly toward Prentiss's room. She'd most likely change out of the snow-dampened pants and relax for a few moments with her friends. Then they'd reconvene for dinner, before heading back to the conference room.

They'd go over the compiled evidence, see what the other group had found, and hopefully find something useful. Hotch knew the truth of the matter, profiling was just a compilation of habits and patterns and incomplete data. Predictors, never absolutes. But once you'd seen enough predictions come true like Hotch had, you began to believe in the science.

What type of man—and they all agreed it was a man—could go into someone's home, most likely a neighbor's home, and torture, rape, and kill? What was the trigger, the stressor? What was the similarities between the Jones couple and the Websters? What was it that caught the UNSUB's attention and drew him to those particular families?

What was it, and how could they predict who would be the next target? How could they cut this guy off, prevent him from ripping apart another family?

Hotch just hoped they could do it quickly.