The BAU's current case has attracted the attention of DHS and the visiting "agents" are not at all what the team expected. As things progress, Prentiss finds herself on an inexplicable parallel path with someone whose past is just as dark and painful as her own. Will she be able to hold herself and her new relationship with JJ together as a total breakdown for both her and everything they know looms?

At the End of the Night

Prologue:

I cannot stop this. I cannot protect her. Nothing can stop this. At the end of the night the sun rises and the ground is cold and damp with blood and she is gone. I'm alone and I am scared. Nothing I do is ever right. I cannot stop this. It will never end. At the end of the night I am worn and tired and they carry on like nothing ever happened.

Part 1: The Interrogator

Chapter 1: Damaged

"They're here," Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner replaced the phone handset and looked at the two agents in front of him.

"I still don't get what Homeland Security wants with us," Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss glanced at Doctor Reid beside her before turning her gaze full on Hotchner.

"I guess that's what we're going to find out," Hotchner started toward the office door with the other two falling into step behind him. "Let me handle this," he said over his shoulder, "you two just back me up."

BAU technical analyst Penelope Garcia met them in the lower hallway holding a laptop computer under her arm. "I feel dirty already," she said absently.

SSA Jennifer Jareau, the team's media liaison, patted Garcia's arm. "It's just a little interagency co-operation, Garcia."

Garcia gave JJ a weak smile and followed the others down the hall to the big conference room.

JJ heard the elevator doors opening from where she stood at the entrance to her office. The three people who exited and began walking toward her were not at all what she expected; at least not the second two. The leader fixed JJ with a confident, almost arrogant, gaze as she approached; her steps so purposeful that JJ found herself retreating slightly into her office.

"Down the hall and to the right," JJ provided.

The three filed past, the leader nodding ever so slightly. JJ watched them go catching her breath when, just as the three rounded the corner, the last woman cast a look back over her shoulder. In the heartbeat that passed as their eyes met, JJ felt the oddest sensation. It was as if someone stood directly in front of her touching her cheek with a cool hand and staring intently into her eyes. The feeling was gone in the instant it took the three to pass out of sight.

JJ shook herself remembering to breathe again. Quickly, she rounded her desk and reached for her mouse. As she did, a message rose up from the lower right of the taskbar informing her that Garcia was connected to the network and her Office Communicator was logged on.

Clicking on the window JJ typed a short message.

In the conference room, Garcia minimized the message window as she heard the DHS agents enter the room behind her. Hotchner stood from his place at the table but did not have a chance to talk.

"I'm Tergensen, DHS," a badge was flashed and put away just as quickly as the lead agent placed a laptop bag on the table directly across from Hotchner. The Unit Chief had no opportunity to extend his hand in greeting either as Tergensen began unzipping her bag and pulling out her computer not meeting his eye.

"Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner and these are some of my team: Agent Prentiss, Doctor Reid and out technical analyst Penelope Garcia."

Tergensen glanced up only briefly as she plugged a network cable and power cable into the module in the center of the table.

Garcia clicked on the OC message from JJ.

Jareau, Jennifer: You're not on screen yet, are you?

Garcia, Penelope: No, not yet. These DHS people are weird.

Jareau, Jennifer: They are really strange. I expected guys in black.

Garcia let a small laugh escape her at the way she and JJ had been thinking the same thing. Hotchner caught her eye giving her a look that suppressed her immediately. Just to her right, Reid was watching the three women with a look of both interest and slight puzzlement.

Garcia, Penelope: Reid thinks they are fascinating in a Spock kind of way, I think.

Jareau, Jennifer: I wish I could hear what Emily thinks.

Garcia coughed as once again their thoughts went in the same direction.

Garcia, Penelope: Me too. She's evaluating right now.

Prentiss watched as Tergensen plugged in her laptop pointedly failing to introduce her two colleagues. She was clearly the alpha female of the three and was currently engaged in asserting her dominance on the FBI agents in the room as well. Prentiss had seen her type many times before: well tailored black suit just feminine enough to pass the scrutiny of the men she worked with, short, well styled reddish hair, clean, manicured short nails, no rings and the thinnest touch of makeup.

Nothing new there; half the women in the federal government looked like her to some degree or another.

Prentiss shifted her gaze to the other woman seated at the table. Older than Tergensen by a few years she had an air about her that was far removed from the lead agent. Academic, Prentiss pegged her, with a general sense of education and possibly even sophistication. The wool suit coat, tasteful grey turtleneck sweater, diamond and amethyst earrings and matching necklace only confirmed this. On the ring finger of her left hand was a solid gold band.

She looked up meeting Prentiss' look her expression open and untroubled. Prentiss had no idea why she was here.

The third member of the group was pouring coffee at the sideboard back to everyone at the table. For a moment Prentiss wondered if her assessment of there being three women hadn't been hasty, yet there was something about the hips in the black jeans that made her think female; androgynous female.

Wide brown leather belt with a smartphone and pager attached, light blue oxford shirt the sleeves rolled to just below the elbow, her casual look did not match either of her companions. She turned then, coming back to the table two mugs of coffee and a donut in her hands. Prentiss watched as she placed one of the mugs next to Tergensen's right hand.

Sitting down between the other two, the woman raised her coffee mug to take a sip and met Prentiss' gaze. Her head cocked slightly as if she had caught Prentiss staring, but the look was quizzical, possibly assessing. After a heartbeat Prentiss felt herself freeze as she was literally pinned under the dark green eyes. She felt a presence surround her, curious, and very intimate like a hand across her hip as if someone was slipping by her, their bodies just touching, in a very crowded room.

In another heartbeat Prentiss was hearing the voice of a dead woman in her ear:

Do they know what you are?

It took effort to cut it off, that probing, intrusive curiosity. Another beat and Prentiss found herself back at the table looking across at someone whose presence was invisible and yet took up all the space in the room at the same time. Prentiss dropped her eyes and felt a jolt as she found herself looking at the other's hands. The right hand around the mug was missing the last two fingers.

Eyes snapping up to the face across from her again, Prentiss then noted other damage: a pale scar near the corner of the left eye and, just to the right of the center of her forehead, another one, this one sort of round. The other woman raised a hand to touch the scar on her forehead as if aware of the scrutiny. Her head cocked again as a slight smile played across her lips and into her eyes.

Garcia, Penelope: Whoa

Jareau, Jennifer: Whoa what?

Tergensen sat back opening her laptop and hitting the power switch. As if hearing a voice, she looked at the woman to her right her expression very briefly displaying annoyance. At the same time the woman on the far right also looked at the woman in the middle, but her expression was unreadable.

Glancing just slightly at Tergensen, the woman in the middle shrugged and took a bite of donut. Her eyes roamed around the room then, as if drawn there, settled on Prentiss. Again the slight smile and curious expression played across her features.

From where she sat at the head of the table, Garcia could see both Reid and Prentiss. Reid's brow was furrowed as if he were thinking or analyzing and Prentiss … Garcia's hands halted in mid type as she watched Prentiss sit back in her chair her attitude now cool and in control. Her eyes never leaving the green eyes across from her, she raised her hand and ran her fingers slowly through her dark hair just above her ear.

Garcia typed quickly and smacked the enter key.

Garcia, Penelope: girlfriend's got her mojo on

Jareau, Jennifer: huh?

Garcia, Penelope: I have just been given a lesson but I have no idea what the subject is.

Reid glanced at Garcia his eyebrows rising slightly. Garcia then realized that everything she had just observed had taken place in less than thirty seconds.

Tergensen cleared her throat. "We're here to talk to Jean-Francois Bennett."

JJ looked up as agents Morgan and Rossi appeared at the door to her office. "Where's everybody," Morgan leaned on the door jamb.

"In a meeting," JJ answered distracted by the screen in front of her.

Jareau, Jennifer: Garcia what?

Rossi was looking over Morgan's shoulder, "we're going to have a go at Bennett. Will you tell Hotch?"

Garcia, Penelope: OMG they are here for that guy, Bennett

JJ looked up as Morgan and Rossi started to leave, "Derek, hold on."

Hotchner blinked and looked at the DHS agent across from him. "Bennett is a suspect in the disappearances of four women. We are actively interviewing him," he looked down the table at the tech analyst and nodded.

The pictures of four women appeared on the screen on the wall at the far end of the table with their information below. Garcia had listed names, ages, date of disappearance and last known whereabouts.

Tergensen did not even look her attention was on her laptop. "I'm forwarding you our federal warrant. It will be in your inbox when you get back to your desk, Agent Hotchner."

Before Hotchner could reply Prentiss began, "You think he's going to talk to you?" she leaned forward elbows on the table. "He hasn't said a damn thing to us since we've had him except to tell us to fuck off."

Hotchner flinched slightly at the profanity.

"In three languages," Prentiss completed.

"Is that the Deputy Director's daughter?" Tergensen looked at Prentiss. "The last one? The blonde?"

Although Prentiss' jaw tightened, she did not reply.

"What is your interest in him?" Hotchner asked his tone level.

Tergensen took a drink from her coffee mug and watched him as if gauging how much information to give. For a long moment she did nothing, looking from Hotchner to the women on the screen. Then she seemed to come to a conclusion, reached into her pants pocket and retrieved a USB flash drive. She placed it on the table in front of the woman to her right.

Everyone at the table watched as the three fingered hand slowly turned it twice on the polished surface of the table and then with a flick sent it skidding towards Garcia.

The tech analyst slapped her palm on it as it bounced off the side of her laptop computer. She looked down the table at Hotch who nodded. Garcia inserted the storage device in a port and blanked her screen. Just because she felt like it, she ran a scan on the contents of the drive as she typed to JJ.

Garcia, Penelope: this just gets stranger and stranger

There were four files on the drive. Garcia brought up each of the JPEG images sizing them to fit equally on the screen. She then activated the projector again.

Each of the four missing women was in a frame of the pictures. The settings were different; some inside, some outside, of four different fitness clubs. The constant in each was the suspect JF Bennett. He appeared to be talking to each of the women.

Prentiss drew in a breath, looked at the screen and looked at Hotch. "You had surveillance on him!"

"Not us," Tergensen snapped. "There was a joint investigation with Interpol."

"I think you need to tell us what's going on," Hotchner's tone was still calm and level.

"I don't have to tell you anything."

The woman in the wool suit coat sighed. Prentiss looked from her to Tergensen to the odd woman in the middle who was smirking as she looked sideways at the lead DHS agent. There was another moment as something seemed to pass between them, and again Tergensen seemed to come to a decision.

"Our interest in him is not related to yours."

"Not related?" Prentiss was clearly annoyed. "Do elaborate, please."

Under the table Hotchner reached out with his left foot until he found Prentiss' right shoe. He put his foot over her toes and pressed down.

"I will," Tergensen began, "unless you'd rather continue this pissing match."

Garcia slapped function F6 and killed the output to the overhead projector.

Garcia, Penelope: the alpha girls are going at it toe to toe. This is too much

Jareau, Jennifer: Emily and that chick from DHS?

Garcia, Penelope: yeah and I think Hotch just kicked her under the table by the way she just looked at him

"Our interest is a matter of national security."

"I was wondering when that was going to come out!" Prentiss waved one hand absently as she sat back.

Garcia bit her lip watching Reid as he rubbed his nose trying hard not to laugh.

Hotchner looked slowly around the table pausing the longest on Prentiss seated beside him. He seemed about to say something when Tergensen began again.

"A container ship left Rotterdam last week bound for a port on the eastern seaboard, probably Baltimore. We need to know what ship and what container because what is on that ship cannot be allowed to get to its destination."

"He's not talking," Hotch said slowly, "about anything."

Tergensen snapped her laptop shut, began pulling the cables. "He will talk to us," she glanced sideways at her companions. "We will get what we need," she paused and leaned forward hands flat on the table as she looked from Hotchner to Prentiss to Reid. "And maybe we will get what you need."

"You don't even know…" Prentiss started.

"Would you like to sit in, Agent Prentiss?" Tergensen stared the other woman down.

"I would," Prentiss met the stare.

"Me too," Reid chipped in.

The three DHS agents stood up. Tergensen paused as she swung her bag over her shoulder. "What you are going to see is highly classified. I hope you will respect that."

Prentiss just rolled her eyes.

Outside the conference room Hotchner watched the three women get on the elevator before turning to Prentiss. "Emily…"

"Hotch, she dismissed us as soon as they came into the room," Reid said cutting off both Hotchner and Prentiss. He looked at Prentiss, "Is that what women used to feel like in a boardroom with men?"

Prentiss just shook her head and started toward the elevators.

Interview Room

When Prentiss and Reid entered the observation room Tergensen and the woman in the wool coat were both setting up laptops on a table under the mirrored window. The other woman was absent.

"Doctor Spencer Reid?"

Surprised, Reid turned at the sound of his name.

"I'm Doctor Micheline Robichaud."

Robichaud placed her jacket over the back of a chair, pushed up her sleeves and extended a hand to Reid.

Reid shook hands finding himself returning the woman's warm smile. "I've read some of your papers, Doctor. Your work in psychology is extremely cutting edge. How did you get involved with Homeland Security?"

The door swung open at that moment and the third woman strode in unbuttoning her shirt. "Can we get this party started?" she tossed her shirt over a chair and turned toward the mirror. "That's him?"

No one bothered to reply as the answer was obvious. In the interview room on the other side of the mirror, a tall, broad shouldered man sat slumped in a metal chair. His hands were cuffed and attached by a chain to a belt around his waist and then to a loop on the floor. He would have been handsome were it not for his expression and his posture. The man radiated pure malice.

"Es tu prête?"Robichaud stepped up behind the woman at the mirror pulling her tank top away from her back. She dropped a small black device with trailing wires down her back and affixed it just under her waist band at the small of her back.

Prentiss watched with interest noting several lines of pale scars crossed the woman's shoulders and disappeared under her shirt. She exchanged a look with Reid and they both watched curiously as Robichaud attached the wires under a tiny flap of skin behind each of the other woman's ears. Next a small cuff was wrapped around her right bicep its wire going up her arm to join the others at the nape of her neck. Robichaud secured them there with a piece of tape adding another at her back where the three wires converged on the device.

Sitting at the table beside Tergensen, Robichaud touched the spacebar on her laptop. The screen came to life with what appeared to be a multicoloured representation of a human brain. The graphic flickered and rotated with several scrolling windows of information underneath.

Reid looked at it with surprise and a little bit of awe. "How did you…"

"She has a sort of neural net implanted just under the skin of her skull," Robichaud explained. "It was not a painful procedure."

"Not for you, you mean," this from the woman with the wires linking her to the computer.

Robichaud ignored the remark holding out a sweatshirt, "Met ca, Guerin."

The other woman pulled on the sweatshirt over her undershirt and all the wires. "Je suis prete; j`y vais," she took a step toward the door stopping when Tergensen spoke.

"Get what you need and get out of there, G."

Guerin flashed a lopsided grin at the three women and Reid before exiting through the door.

"She does not know what she's getting into," Prentiss remarked to no one in particular.

"Actually she knows all too well," Tergensen said staring through the mirrored window.

When the door opened on the other side Prentiss noticed immediately that the woman who walked into the room was not the same woman who had just left them. She was identical in appearance, yet her entire demeanor had changed. Her face was tight, determined, and a little bit angry. She strode directly toward the man in the room and stopped in front of the table.

"Who the fuck are you? Another fucking bitch FBI agent?" he jerked at his restraints.

Guerin crossed her arms over her chest staring at him over the table that separated them.

"Yuck!" Robichaud commented without a trace of her usual French accent.

"Send that pointy nosed bitch back in. Me and my dick want to get to know her better," he sneered.

"I can see you made a good impression, Prentiss," Tergensen glanced over her shoulder.

"You ugly dyke, c…"

Guerin raised her left hand and pointed at him.

"That's enough of that!"

Bennett was cut off immediately. His jaw worked as he struggled to speak. His eyes were wide and remained fixated on the hand in front of him as Guerin slowly rounded the table. She sat on the edge of the table directly in front of him one foot on his chair between his thighs. Still she seemed to hold him tight without touching him, her hand now barely an inch from his nose. Cocking her head she gazed into his eyes her expression souring.

"He's everything they think he is," stated Robichaud, "all that and even more. Total yuck."

Prentiss tore her eyes from the scene in the interview room to look at Robichaud. She was watching her laptop screen intently occasionally touching a key. Reid caught her eye then and shrugged.

"Just get the info, G." Tergensen stood and leaned on the table.

Bennett went totally still his face going pale. Lowering her hand ever so slowly, Guerin settled herself in front of him her eyes locked on his.

Reid took a step back from the window and looked at the computer screen in front of Robichaud. The screen was a mix of reds and oranges and as he watched the numbers in the lower left for heart rate and blood pressure jumped significantly.

"Got him," Robichaud whispered.

In the interview room Guerin leaned forward both feet now on Bennett's chair. "The ship coming from Europe," she put her elbows on her knees rested her chin on her hands, "what is it called?"

"Maersk Atlantic Courier," Bennett said no emotion in his voice.

Tergensen practically jumped behind her computer, began typing rapidly.

"The container number?"

Bennett recited a long alpha numeric identifier as if he were reading it from a blackboard at the front of a classroom.

"Verifying," Tergensen said excitement now colouring her voice. She paused, read the information on the screen and grunted with satisfaction. "That's it." Taking out her cell phone she dialed a number and when it was answered repeated the information.

Everyone seemed to pause for a moment after Tergensen completed her call. Prentiss was watching the two people in the interview room, and Reid was watching the screen in front of Robichaud who sat quietly.

Robichaud broke the stillness sighing deeply. "Mon dieu, this is awful," she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

There was another long moment of silence when absolutely nothing seemed to happen. Tergensen looked at Robichaud questioningly. The psychologist sighed again and gave a noncommittal shrug of her shoulders. They both then looked through the glass into the interview room.

Bennett's face was a mask of utter blank, but the woman in front of him was the complete opposite; she was seething, her face dark with rage and contempt. As the observers watched she gave a sharp gesture at Bennett who, though he was not contacted, reacted as if he had been slapped. Launching herself off the table, she stormed to the door throwing it open with such force that it banged back hard against the wall cracking the plaster. Bennett regained himself then, shaking his head and looking around confused and afraid.

"Where is she going?" Prentiss demanded.

"To the bathroom to throw up," Tergensen snapped her laptop shut and stood up.

Prentiss was in front of her immediately blocking her path. "What is going on here?" she stared at the other woman. "You come in here all full of attitude and put on some sort of show expecting us to…"

"Get out of my face, Prentiss!" Tergensen snapped her temper flaring. "You don't know a damn thing!" She gazed at Prentiss her face changing from anger to profound pain. "You have no idea what she just went through to get your information."

"What information?" Prentiss glanced at Reid.

"I believe we just witnessed a sort of hypnotic coercion," Reid looked uncomfortable. The screen in front of Robichaud suddenly went blank as all input was terminated. Slowly Robichaud closed the computer and laid her chin on her arms on top of it.

Tergensen pushed past the FBI agent and went to the psychologist. "It's OK, it's OK," with one hand she squeezed Robichaud's shoulder. Her other hand gently, intimately, touched the other woman's hair at the back of her neck. Robichaud reached up and grasped Tergensen's hand where it rested on her shoulder.

"When she comes back she will tell you what she knows."

Prentiss didn't wait. Without a word she left the room striding aggressively down the hall to the women's washroom. She pushed open the door with a slap of her hand. She had expected some sort of reaction to her sudden appearance but there was none.

The strange black device with the wires and the blood pressure cuff were discarded on the countertop, the sweatshirt cast into a corner. Guerin splashed water on her face, spit in the sink.

"I feel so dirty," Guerin grimaced, looked as if she were about to vomit again.

"You're bleeding."

Blood had trickled from behind her right ear down her jaw and was dripping into the basin. She swiped at it absently with the back of her hand finally looking up to meet Prentiss' eyes in the mirror. As they stared at each other, Prentiss could feel the pain and resignation in the other woman as well as a lingering grief that lurked just behind the green eyes. For just a moment a tingle of understanding passed between them then was gone.

"Fucking nice job you got. Dealing with that shit all day." Guerin splashed more water on her face and through her hair. Reaching for the paper towel she wobbled slightly on her feet.

"Are you alright?"

There was no answer; the other woman just leaned heavily against the wall breathing slowly her face pale. Eventually, just as Prentiss took a step toward her, she straightened, wiped the paper towel over her face, hair and under her arms then blew her nose into it.

"Let's go," scooping up the sweatshirt, BP cuff and wired device, she exited the washroom Prentiss trailing behind. In the corridor they met Tergensen, Robichaud and Reid. Robichaud exchanged the sweatshirt for the blue oxford shirt and put away the monitoring devices in her laptop bag.

"A tu besoin quelque chose?" she asked, her eyes searching Guerin's face concerned.

"No. Let's just get this over with," pulling on the shirt she started toward the elevator. Once on the elevator, the four women and Reid rode in silence up to the sixth floor.

JJ looked up in surprise as the strange DHS woman strode past her office her shirt undone and the tails billowing behind her. Prentiss met JJ's eyes as she trailed the group toward the conference room. With her eyes and a shrug of her shoulders, she communicated her confusion.

In the conference room, Robichaud was dabbing at the blood behind Guerin's ear as the other woman downed a bottle of orange juice. "Are you sure you're OK?" the psychologist asked softly.

The only answer was a quick nod as Guerin took another bottle from the small refrigerator, scooped up a croissant and a muffin and sat back in her same seat at the table.

Reid and Prentiss turned toward JJ as she entered the room. "Hotch and Garcia…" she didn't finish. Looking past Prentiss she was surprised, if not downright amazed, to see the gruff DHS agent standing behind the seated woman her hands kneading her shoulders, touching her damp hair. JJ felt her eyes widen as Tergensen laid her hand flat, fingers splayed, on the other woman's chest.

Robichaud joined the other two blocking JJ's view. JJ looked a question at Prentiss but it was Reid who answered. "The nonverbal communication is fascinating," he shot a look over his shoulder at the three women in a close knot at the table, "and that level of intimacy is usually only seen…"

"Reid!" Prentiss cut him off. Hotchner and Garcia entered the room then. "Stay," Prentiss said in an undertone to JJ patting the chair next to where Garcia was setting up.

Hotchner noticed the change in the three women as soon as he sat down. It was especially surprising in Tergensen. To him she appeared to have lost all her bravado and looked simply tired. The other two were even worse.

"We have information for you," Tergensen began, "and you are not going to understand how we know what we know. I cannot explain." She met Hotchner's gaze directly, glanced at Prentiss and Reid. "I know there's a lot of pressure on you because of the deputy director's daughter being one of the missing."

"She's dead."

Every eye in the room turned to the disheveled woman next to Tergensen. "And there were more than four," her face scrunched in displeasure, eyes blinking rapidly, "he…"

"He's a sexual sadist," Robichaud took over her voice low and clinical, "and an especially vile one, I suspect, even for you." She looked steadily at the three profilers across the table from her. "An anger excitation rapist, he tortures women and strangles them to death with his bare hands."

No one said anything for a long moment until Reid started hesitantly, "Hotch, this is Doctor Micheline Robichaud," he looked down the table at the Unit Chief. "She has PhDs in Cognitive and Developmental Psychology."

Robichaud inclined her head politely to Reid. "Abnormal psychology of the sort you deal with, Doctor Reid, agents," she smiled slightly at Hotchner, "is not my specialty. My field is much more theoretical."

"Bennett told you this?" Hotchner tried to temper the tone of incredulity in his voice.

"He didn't say a thing about the missing women," Prentiss didn't look at Hotchner, her eyes were on Tergensen.

"Again," Tergensen drew out the word. "We can't explain how we know, you have to trust us. If you don't want to go that far," she looked pointedly at Prentiss, "I suggest you call Deputy Director Morrison and tell him you have information on his daughter and it comes from Devin Tergensen."

There was another moment of silence broken when Guerin stood and looked down the table directly at Garcia. "Can you bring up a map of northern Virginia, please?"

Garcia started slightly at being addressed, but recovered quickly, "Yes, ma'am. "

"Highway 522 north of Highway 211," Guerin moved to the front of the table stood directly in front of the screen.

The map appeared and everyone turned to look. Guerin studied it for a moment her head inclined to one side. "Do you have topographical or satellite? Satellite would be best, like from the NSA."

"NSA? Garcia questioned. "Our flavor of alphabet soup is FBI, not NSA," Garcia worked her keyboard and another map appeared on the screen. "Here's topo."

"There's a diner here," the damaged hand pointed to an intersection. "It's north of that," she turned leaning on the table canting her hip and sighing audibly. "He hasn't been there very often. There's another guy that dumps the bodies. I can find it though."

She looked up then her eyes travelling down the table and finding JJ. For a moment the two stared at each other until JJ looked away uncomfortable under the scrutiny. Seeking reassurance, JJ looked across the table to Prentiss. The woman at the head of the table also looked at Prentiss but only for a moment. She gave a soft laugh stepping back from the table, raising her hands for just a beat before dropping them to her sides.

Tergensen gave a loud sniff. "Alright; make the call," she looked at Hotchner. "We will meet you at that diner at 07:30 tomorrow morning. Email me confirmation."

With that the three filed out of the room.

Later

Prentiss entered Garcia's control room and shut the door carefully behind her. JJ was seated beside Garcia nibbling her knuckle. "Reid and I are going."

"Lucky you," JJ extended a hand to Prentiss who moved closer, touched the blonde's shoulder, then ran her hand through her hair.

"What was that right at the end?" Garcia asked watching her two friends closely. They were rarely affectionate with each other when around other people except for instances like now in the privacy of Garcia's lair.

"She was checking me out," JJ put an arm around Prentiss' waist pulled her closer resting her head against her lover's hip. "Emily smacked her, so to speak."

Garcia laughed. "There's some weird mojo going on between those three. That little circle has three points if you know what I mean." Garcia traced a triangle in the air.

"What?" JJ asked surprised. "Doctor what's–her-name had a wedding ring on!"

Garcia just snorted.

"Garcia's GayDar has a supernatural setting," Prentiss explained to JJ.

The three friends shared a laugh then fell quickly silent. Garcia looked away typing something into an Office Communicator window on her workstation. "Reid's all excited. He's going on about parapsychology."

"What happened downstairs in the interview?" JJ looked up at Prentiss. She felt the taller woman stiffen.

Prentiss was replaying the interrogation in her mind: the odd interaction between the two in the interview room, Robichaud speaking in a voice that seemed to belong to someone else, Tergensen talking to the woman in the interview room as if she could be heard through the wall, and, lastly, the look of pain she had seen in Tergensen's eyes as she said 'You have no idea what she just went through…'

"I don't know," Prentiss evaded. "Bennett told them what they wanted to know about the ship and the container."

"He just told them?" JJ asked. "You spent how long with him this morning and he never told you anything about anything?"

"Weapons grade plutonium," Garcia stated out of nowhere.

"What?" Prentiss and JJ said at the same time.

"I bet that's what's in the container," Garcia elaborated. She paused, looking at her screen. "Reid thinks they are CIA; Project Stargate. Dude's going all X-Files on me."

"Tell me what you think, Em." JJ squeezed Prentiss harder. Prentiss just frowned. Garcia had turned her full attention to her conversation with Reid. JJ stood up pressing her body close to Prentiss her hand moving down to grasp her firm buttock.

"I don't know," Prentiss returned her lover's embrace. It was like she looked right through me, she thought but didn't say.

The words do they know what you are echoed in her mind and she increased her hold on JJ as unwanted feelings flooded into her making her feel exposed and vulnerable. She fought hard to keep the shiver she felt from rising up from her core.

JJ pulled back and touched Prentiss' cheek softly. "I wish I could come home with you tonight," she whispered. "Maybe if my parents will take Henry; they said they would at the end of the week."

"Yeah, that would be nice. We spend so little time together."

JJ looked away not wanting to engage in the familiar refrain.

Evening of the Same Day, Guerin's Washington Safe-house

Robichaud smiled when Guerin wrapped her arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck.

"That dark haired girl has you rather aroused," she touched the hands that held her, her own wet from the kitchen sink.

"It is better to think about her than the other thing."

Robichaud felt the cold shadow that passed between them and shuddered slightly. She felt Guerin's grip tighten as a soft kiss touched her neck.

"Ma belle fille; I so worry for your soul sometimes. How badly you wanted to crush him." Robichaud felt Guerin huff in her ear; felt the other woman's hands move down her thighs.

"She's interesting, don't you think? FBI profiler and all that."

"Oui," Robichaud turned still in Guerin's grip. "I did not know how much you liked dark and intense women. Be careful though," her arms went around her neck, pulled her into a kiss.

Guerin broke the kiss, "The blonde? Yes, I know. There is love there. It was nice to feel something like that for once. Still, girl is totally hot!"

Robichaud laughed touched Guerin's lips with the tip of her finger. "You are my beautiful, incorrigible girl. Let me take you upstairs and I will make you feel human again."