Erin Strauss listened carefully. She didn't really want the details of what George Foyet had done to Agent Hotchner. She didn't want the details at all. Her lips tightened, her fingers closed on the phone. Was there no one who could do a proper job? If you couldn't trust a serial killer to kill, who could you trust?

That was her first time. The second time, the second time Agent Hotchner had killed George. It wasn't the outcome she had hoped for, but it might be helpful. Initially there had been the hearing, then she had offered Aaron Hotchner leave, after that retirement, following that she had seen him off to Pakistan, finally she had watched over their internal inquisition, but nothing. Not only was Aaron Hotchner still here, and he seemed to be warning up to her.

George had failed her, but worse she had failed herself, and Erin Strauss didn't fail. Now there was Blake, Alex Blake, if Erin had chosen anyone to not have on that team it would be Alex, or maybe, two birds with one stone? Something did, finally, have to be done—done right.

Erin Strauss surveyed the bull pen, looking at that team—seemingly innocent, playing of all things, talking, smiling. She needed someone who knew them, each and everyone of them, someone who knew where they were, what they did, how they did it, someone who was close, but invisible. She looked over the bull pen again, seeing Anderson struggling under a load of files, she did feel just a little bad for him. He had been overlooked for a much sought after promotion, he had been blamed when Elle had been assaulted, he was treated virtually as a coffee boy, in spite of his qualifications, his hard work, his attention to detail, his knowledge of the BAU.

Anderson answered his phone, yes he could, whatever she needed, he would certainly be in her office in the moment.