Disclaimer: If only… *sigh*

A/N: Sorry it's taken a bit to get this updated. I was on a roll and then real life had to have a case of the hiccups. And yes… I did change the character pairings to JJ and Hotch, for more reasons than just the very obvious. I do have a plan, you know, despite what it may seem like. *grin* Outside of all of that, here we go! Hope you like it…

8. Feelings, Secrets, & Hostilities

Aaron Hotchner sat in the dim light of his living room as he processed the events of the evening. The last thing he wanted to do was to go back into the office and open a case file. Especially on what appeared to be was going to be the team. This wasn't just some hoax as he'd wanted to think, nor was it an isolated incident.

After Will's frantic call regarding a letter that was eerily a carbon copy of the letter he had received, Hotch had immediately placed an urgent call to JJ knowing that she had not been home when Will had phoned. And while Hotch had historically not had a problem with William LaMontagne Jr. in a broad sense of it all, it had irked him that the other man had requested that he keep JJ from knowing what was going on. Will had wanted him to 'take care of this' without causing JJ any unnecessary alarm. But what Will hadn't known was that the very same letter he was asking Hotch to 'fix' was also sitting on Hotch's own kitchen table. Just that connection alone said that this went far beyond any sort of jurisdiction – legal or otherwise – of Will LaMontagne.

His team was his team. And JJ would always be a part of his team, no matter where she went, who she was with, or how long she was gone. After talking with her, knowing that she was furious with Will's decision to call him without her knowledge and the demand that Hotch keep it between the two men grounded him in some strange way. It reassured him that JJ still wanted to be a part of the team. Despite the limited time they usually had between cases, Hotch was still trying with everything he had to get her back to the BAU. He would keep trying every channel, every avenue, and every connection until it worked or she told him to stop. When he'd brought her back to assist with Emily's case… it reinforced everyone's belief that JJ was meant for the BAU. With Emily's "death", the team needed her more than ever. He even when so far as to say that maybe he needed her more than ever. Being one of only less than a handful of people that knew Emily Prentiss was actually alive was a lot more to bear than he'd anticipated. Especially being the one to conduct the team's assessments. But knowing that JJ held that secret too helped ease the burden somewhat.

They'd ended their phone conversation with JJ telling him she would try to stop by the BAU in the morning, her own letter in tow so they could compare. At this point, with no leads and no end game in sight, anything was worth looking at a couple times with a couple of different perspectives.

It was only moments after hanging up with her that his phone started ringing again. First had been Morgan, panicking about postcards with death threats. Then there had been Garcia leaving a long, rambling message while he'd talked to Morgan about a letter that had been awaiting her at home. Reid had called a few minutes after he'd hung up with Morgan to let him know that he, too, had received a strange postcard… as well as his mother in Las Vegas.

Suddenly, small, isolated and hopefully easily-solvable had become large, worrisome and potentially time-consuming. Not to mention even more dangerous. There would have to be a call to Strauss and on most days he'd rather walk into traffic than make that call. Hotch rubbed a hand over his weary face. This had the potential makings of something worse than what George Foyet had inflicted on them all only a few years ago, and that's what scared him. This felt personal. And he knew that people making it "personal" with the BAU came along with the job. They were all extremely visible in high profile cases. It was a sacrifice they all made and tried to live with and shove to the back of their minds as best they could.

Unfortunately, a feeling wasn't going to get him anywhere. And he had nowhere to start until he got the team together. It was with that thought that his cell phone rang again. He picked it up and braced for more.

"Hotchner," he answered, fully expecting to hear Dave's sardonic voice or Seaver's immediate questioning. They were the only agents Hotch hadn't heard from yet and he'd received no answer when he'd tried to call both of them.

"Aaron," a voice greeted. Even after years of not speaking, Hotch would know that voice anywhere.

"Jason?" he asked, shocked. There was a small chuckle from the other end, and if Hotch hadn't already been shocked, he'd have been at that somewhat lighthearted sound. Apparently the time away had done Jason Gideon well.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to skip the pleasantries, Aaron. I think there might be a situation," the other man said, his voice as serious as it ever had been in knowing him. Hotch frowned.

"Let me guess. A letter?" he asked. There was silence on the other end for a moment.

"I'd ask if you were really that good of a profiler if you could guess that over the phone, but I'll just assume that means there have been more letters?" Jason asked. Hotch rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I received one earlier today," he said. Then he took a breath. "And so did JJ. As well as Garcia. And Morgan and Reid each received postcards, along with their loved ones out of state."

Silence fell over the phone again, and Hotch knew very well that meant Jason was deep into his pondering over what it all meant. If anyone could put abstract pieces back together again better than Spencer Reid, it was definitely Jason Gideon.

"I thought that JJ was no longer part of the team," Jason said finally. Hotch's eyes widened at that fairly recent bit of news.

"You've kept up to date," he said, only barely hiding his surprise. Jason chuckled again.

"Only in the last 12 or so hours. Spencer monopolized my post office box," he admitted. Hotch smiled for a moment, but then frowned in thought.

"Do you think the connection is one of your cases, Jason?" he asked, his mind back on the 'personal' angle. Jason was quiet for a second.

"I can't think of anything else. I'm no longer part of the team either, Aaron. Why would I get a letter after all this time? Postmarked just a few days ago, no less. It has to be one of our cases. One where JJ was still with the BAU as well," he concluded. Hotch continued to frown. It just didn't feel right, but he knew it was the only connection at this point. And Dave not calling him, along with Seaver – at least at this point – supported that theory. At least it was a finite timeline they could research for the moment. The crossover of Jason and JJ's tenures at the BAU was relatively short.

"That gives us a start. But you've got a significant connection to Spencer too," Hotch reminded the other man as he threw out other possibilities that could connect their former unit leader to this situation. Jason sighed.

"But I didn't open that post office box until yesterday, Aaron. I've been out of touch with anything FBI or BAU for over four years now. I haven't spoken to Spencer since before then," he said with a touch of regret. He'd hated leaving just a note for the young man that he'd often looked upon as a son. And there was still so much he had to read yet in all of Spencer's writings. So much to catch up on.

"If the person who sent you the letter knew all of that…" Hotch started, an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach. Profiler instincts didn't allow for a whole lot of sleep at night.

"That meant he knew when to send the letter," Jason finished. The two men let that sink in for a moment.

"Jason, we're being watched. Closely."

"I know. But who is doing the watching?"

That really was the question.

Jennifer Jareau tried very hard to not slam the door as she walked into her home. Henry was dozing on her shoulder and the last thing she wanted was to disturb him. He hadn't been feeling well and sleep was kind of at a premium these past few days.

She spotted Will's shield and identification on one of the end tables. She knew his gun was locked in the drawer below it. It meant that he was home, which was good because she didn't want to have the conversation they were going to have over the phone. JJ quickly ascended the stairs to where her son's room was located. As she tucked him into his blankets and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead, she sensed Will's presence at the door.

When she turned to look at him, he was leaning against the door frame, watching his sleeping son. It took her a few moments to gather her thoughts and make sure she didn't start anything in this neutral zone.

"You're home," Will said quietly. JJ nodded.

"Henry dropped off in the car on the way back. I didn't want to wake him," she answered before slipping by her boyfriend and heading back downstairs.

"You alright, chere?" Will asked as he followed her. JJ knew she wasn't exactly the best at hiding her emotions. And right now, she was pretty sure her anger was telegraphing itself at alarming rates. When she turned to look at Will again, he was watching her with that Southern nonchalance that belied his alertness.

"I received an interesting phone call on my way home, Will," she said, her voice clipped. Her meaning was very clear. He didn't react for a long moment before he finally wiped a hand over his face.

"I told him not to involve you," he muttered, anger apparent in his soft voice. JJ just stared at him.

"You call Hotch with a threat to our family and expected him to not call me? He may be one of the best profilers in the world, Will, but he needs all of the pieces to actually put things together. I happen to be one of those pieces," she hissed. "And what did you think not telling me would do for you, Will? I'm not stupid. You wouldn't think I would know something was going on?"

"I don't think you're stupid," Will countered. "That wasn't why I wanted him to not tell you." JJ tilted her head to one side as she crossed her arms. Well, this was taking an interesting turn.

"Give me one good reason. Just one…" she told him, knowing full well there really was no good reason to keep this from her. His hesitation told her that Will either didn't know one… or he didn't want to tell her his reason. Either way, it wasn't good enough. "Tell me Will!"

"I didn't want you involved with the BAU again, JJ!" he answered forcefully. She blinked. Her eyes couldn't focus on any one thing as she looked around the room, thinking over the implications of that statement. In the flash of a few moments, his attitude over the past few years toward her working were suddenly so sharp and in focus. She'd always thought he just had a thing against the BAU and the hours it required. Every so often, she'd even thought maybe it was a little jealousy over her close connection with the team. But now…

"You didn't want the little woman getting involved again," she said, resigned. She shook her head as she looked at the man she had been so sure loved her.

"I want us to be a family, chere. We can't do that when you aren't here to have one," he said, extending a hand as if pleading with her. "I thought things were getting better when you went to the Pentagon. The hours were better, you were home more often than not. But what I just realized these last couple of weeks is that you are just as invested with them. The only difference is that even though you are here this time physically, your mind is always there. Never here with us."

JJ stared at him. The secret of Emily's real life in Europe sat bitterly on her tongue. Her mind would always be on her friend – her welfare, her travels, and what it was that JJ could do to help her when she could. But Will couldn't know that truth. No one could. And even if she could tell him, she suddenly and fiercely didn't want to tell him.

"You make it sound like I think you and Henry are only a pastime. A hobby," she said with a twist to her lip. He hesitated for only a second, but it was enough to validate her thought. It hurt.

"No, chere. That's not what I mean."

"Yes, it is." She could see that lie all over him. JJ hadn't been with a team of profilers for years and not picked up a thing or two.

Will was silent again as he watched her just as warily as she him. "We could work this out, Jaje, if you would only meet me half-way."

"Half-way," she repeated. JJ shook her head. "What you want isn't half-way." Will reached out and took her hand in his. JJ resisted the urge to pull away. She used to be comforted by his touch. Any arguments they'd had in the past could easily be calmed just by simple contact. But JJ knew that this discussion would leave things changed. What they had wouldn't be the same as soon as conversation stopped. And it saddened her.

"I just want us to be together, chere. A family. Is that really so bad?" he asked, his accent getting heavier as emotion got more clouded. This time, she did pull her hand away from his.

"What is your definition of family, Will?" she asked. "What is it you're looking for from me that isn't fitting your picture?"

"I want you to be here," he said softly. JJ shook her head.

"I am here, Will. I come home to you every day, I haven't missed anything having to do with Henry… we do the typical family things together. What doesn't fit for you?" she asked. She could see on his face how uncomfortable he was. And part of her knew the answer already. He wanted marriage. He wanted to be able to come home to a wife that didn't have an often times secretive and sometimes dangerous job… home-cooked meals and more kids running under foot.

"I thought we were getting there, JJ," he said with a shake of his head. Silence fell as they both realized just how deep this chasm was between them.

"You've been manipulating me, Will." she said quietly in realization. The words could have been yelled with all of the anger behind them. "All these years… playing these little games thinking you could eventually convince me to do what you want."

"No…" Will started. Her blue eyes were like icy fire.

"Don't… Don't you dare lie to me, Will LaMontagne," she spat. "When you gave me your badge in New York when we found out I was pregnant, I thought you were different. I really did. I thought that you accepted who I was and what I did and were willing to love me with all of that in the picture. Look at how we met, after all." JJ rubbed a hand over her weary eyes. He'd given up his badge to convince her to stay together and be a family. But she often forgot how quickly he'd picked up that very badge again when the opportunity arose.

"I want to marry you, Jaje," Will said softly, hoping that his earnest plea would be heard. She looked up at him again.

"No, Will. You want to marry Jennifer Jareau, housewife. That's not who I am." There'd been little red flags all over the place, she realized. She should have seen the inevitable outcome. Jennifer Jareau was just not made for William LaMontagne. She couldn't be what he really wanted and be happy with herself. It was just not possible. It was no more possible than it was for him to change what he wanted.

"I love you," he said plainly, his blue eyes locked on her face. She nodded.

"I love you too," she said back. It was true. She did. But that didn't change anything. Not really. But that was to be another conversation for another time. There was a bigger issue at hand here.

"Where is the letter, Will?" she asked, realizing that he hadn't once indicated where it was after the conversation headed down a completely different road. It took him a moment of internal deliberation before he walked over to the drawer where he kept his gun. JJ knew he would have kept this a secret from her forever if it had meant keeping her away from what he constituted a threat to his happy vision of a home. And that made her sad, too.

"Here," he said, taking the letter out of the envelope addressed to the both of them and setting it on the kitchen table.

She didn't say anything, needing a moment to gather her thoughts again. And when it became apparent that she wasn't going to say anything, Will shifted uncomfortably on his feet, his eyes darting around the room. Anywhere but at her.

"I'm sorry, JJ," he said sadly before heading up to their bedroom. She stayed behind, of course, because the small moment she thought she'd needed was turning into a larger moment. Her eyes kept getting caught on the troublesome piece of paper sitting on the kitchen table.

JJ crossed the room slowly and those big black letters became even bigger and bolder as she looked down at it. From her conversation with Hotch, it was likely someone was after the team. And just like it had been with Frank Breitkopf and with George Foyet, this person was more than willing to work their way into the agents' personal lives. It made her just as uneasy as she knew Hotch was. She let out the breath that she had unconsciously been holding.

This could get very ugly if they didn't get a handle on it soon.

The place really hadn't changed at all. It was the first thought that hit him as he poured a cup of the BAU's notoriously strong coffee from its pot with a smile. With the hours they pulled, the stronger the better. And even after years away he could still smell the quality of the coffee at ten paces.

"Jason Gideon," a steely voice greeted. He looked over his shoulder to see the predictably unfriendly face of Section Chief Erin Strauss watching him as if he were an ant on the floor. Jason just smiled a small smile. It was too early to try to match the woman's seemingly natural hostility.

"Chief Strauss," he greeted before turning back to put his two sugars into his beverage.

"I'd heard the rumblings, but I knew I wouldn't believe it until I saw it," she clipped out, staring heavily at his borrowed 'visitor' badge when he turned to face her. Jason smiled again.

"That's always been your problem, Erin," he commented lightly. He paused for a moment as he took a quick sip of the steamy beverage and leaned back against the counter. "You doubt too much and you trust too little." If anything, her already steely glare became even more so.

"I assume you are here for a reason?" she asked pointedly, crossing her arms. The last thing she apparently wanted was to have Jason Gideon in this building. He would have thought she had bigger fish to fry…

"Not everyone is here just to annoy the piss out of you like I am, Erin," David Rossi's voice said from behind her. There was a cough of a laugh as Derek Morgan walked by the group to enter the bullpen. Strauss just glared at the Italian man before letting out a huff of a breath and stalking off.

"You always made annoying people an art form, Dave. Good to see that it hasn't changed," Jason greeted with a small smile before reaching out to shake the other man's hand. Rossi just grinned.

"Yeah, well, she just makes it way too easy and who am I to pass up the opportunity," he answered. "It's good to see you, Jason. Didn't expect to see your face walking in these doors this morning."

"You'd have known if you'd answered your phone, Dave," Hotch greeted the two as he arrived as well. "We have a situation. Everyone's on their way in." Rossi looked between Hotch and Jason.

"I assumed as much when I read your text this morning. And I might have to add to the caseload, myself," he said.

"Letter," both Hotch and Jason said together. Rossi just nodded, looking between the two.

"I'd wondered about that," he muttered before following them into the bullpen to where Morgan sat. The four men eyed each other uneasily for a moment, none of them much for idle conversation at 7 o'clock in the morning, before Morgan sat back in his chair and looked to Jason.

"So… you leave without a goodbye and show up again without a hello?" he asked. Hotch leveled the other man with a warning glare, knowing how the younger man could get.

"Morgan," he grumbled. Jason just smiled.

"Hello, Derek," he responded. The other man grinned before holding out a hand.

"Now that's more like it," Morgan said. "Good to see you again, Gideon." Before anyone could say anything else Penelope Garcia announced her presence.

"Four men standing around a cubicle this early in the morning… That means there's either porn or you're comparing things that Garcia doesn't want to see compared in a professional work environment. Put 'em away, boys, or I'll be forced to pull out the camera," she called out teasingly, holding a magazine up to block them from her view.

"Ah, Penelope Garcia, the Queen of All Things Inappropriate," Rossi said with a hint of exasperated affection.

"Don't you know it, buster," she confirmed, pointing her feather topped pen in his general direction before lowering the magazine.

"You're lucky that Strauss isn't in here anymore," Hotch scolded her lightly. She just shrugged as she tucked her pen into her magazine. Then she looked up with a frown as she realized one of the four faces wasn't actually Spencer Reid. As soon as it registered who it actually was, she let out a loud screech of surprise and before he knew it, Jason had his arms full of one super-excited and babbling Penelope Garcia.

"Ohmygodohmygod, oh… my… GOD!" she exclaimed hugging him even tighter. "You're here!"

"Baby girl, the man has got to breathe," Morgan warned, tapping the technical analyst on her back. It took another few seconds before that got through her head and the blonde quickly let him go, stepping back.

"I'm sorry! I just… it's just… you… you're back!" she said, clapping her hands together happily.

"It's good to see you too, Penelope," Jason choked out, rubbing his neck slightly.

Garcia opened her mouth to say something, but Morgan quickly stood and covered her mouth with his hand. "No, baby girl. You are not going to give this man your version of 20 questions, alright? It's early, he just got here, we've got things to be doing, and from first glance he's doing just fine. Alright?"

Everyone, even Hotch, cracked a smile as the blonde pigtails bobbed when she nodded her agreement. Morgan leveled her with one more 'I'm serious' look before dropping his hand. Garcia's lips were pursed in her attempt to stem the flow of questions, but after a moment she let out a calming breath.

"Okay. So, we've got all of the fearless leaders in one place. That's good, that's confidence-inducing… now tell me there's a reason we can all be fearless. Tell me that Gideon's sudden appearance isn't a sign that the apocalypse is nigh," she ended on the plea. When the guys all looked at each other with uncertainty, Garcia let out another breath. "Oh, jinkies. I'm sensing some bad joo-joo." She clasped her laptop closer to her chest as if trying to ward off said joo-joo.

"I'm sorry I'm…" Reid broke the tense silence as he rushed to where everyone was standing. He paused heavily as he saw Gideon among them. "… late." The last word was pretty much exhaled on a heavy breath. Everyone was smiling at him in greeting, but he just frowned. Rather than say anything Reid went to his desk and proceeded to take off his coat and set his briefcase down, all under the watchful eye of his team.

Knowing that there was some air that needed to be cleared before things could even resemble the word functional, Hotch nodded his head to Jason and then turned to the three others on the team.

"Let's head up to the conference room, we'll talk more there. Jason and Reid will join us when they're ready," he said, leading the way. Rossi, Morgan and Garcia followed, but not without throwing curious glances back.

Jason waited until the conference room door was closed before he turned back to the younger man. It didn't take a profiler to see that Spencer Reid was upset at this new development. "I got your letters."

"I didn't get any of yours," Reid retorted sarcastically, still not looking up as he took a couple of files out of his briefcase and set them on his desk. There was a heavy silence before Reid finally looked at Jason. "I thought you would come back…"

Jason let out a sigh as he leaned against the other desk. "It wasn't a question of coming back or not, Spencer. I needed to find myself again…"

Reid cleared his throat uncomfortably, his eyes not able to focus on one thing. "And did you? Find yourself?"

This time Jason had to look away. "I'd like to think I've started to. I'll be honest, Spencer. It's been a long, hard road. And a lonely one…"

"It didn't have to be," Reid said quickly, making his point known. Jason nodded with a small smile.

"I know that, Spencer. But sometimes, the lonely road is the only road. No one else could put me back together. Only I could do that," he said. "I just got back to the DC area a couple of days ago. It's been a kind of test for me. There are so many memories here that I had to know that being back here wouldn't bring back all of the bad."

"Picked a hell of a time to come back," Reid shrugged. Jason blew out a breath.

"Yeah. There's a part of me that likes to forget that I'd spent a good chunk of years in the FBI. It doesn't just all go away," he said. Reid frowned again.

"No. We don't just go away," he gritted out, anger apparent in his visage once more. Jason hadn't meant his statement to sound like he'd wanted to forget everything and everyone associated with the FBI. But that was definitely the way the young man had taken it. He opened his mouth to respond.

"Gideon? Spence?" a soft voice interjected before he could begin to apologize. Jason looked over to see a familiar blonde woman frowning in confusion.

"JJ," he said, blinking at her presence. He knew that she was no longer part of the team, and the similar visitor's badge on her lapel confirmed that, but it was still a bit of a shock to see her. Apparently it was to Reid, too, as the young man rushed to her and quickly enveloped her in a hug. Part of it was happiness to see her, but Jason also knew that the other part of it was to escape the uncomfortable conversation.

Jason gave JJ a tight smile before excusing himself, pointing up to the conference room to confirm where he was going. JJ gave him a quick nod before turning her attention back to Reid.

He quickly ascended the stairs and walked the very familiar hallway down to where the rest of the team waited for him. Jason opened the door to see all pairs of eyes dart in his direction. He closed the door behind him.

"Reid?" Rossi asked with a raised eyebrow.

"He's with JJ," Jason said with a sad smile as he sat down in one of the empty chairs. "And he's angry with me." The rest of the team nodded in sympathetic understanding.

"He'll come around. Reid's always been a little more cerebral than the rest of us when it comes to emotion," Garcia waved it off. Then her eyes widened as she caught on to the rest of the information. "Buttercup? Buttercup's here?" The analyst stood up to peek out of the window to confirm that information. There, indeed, was a blonde head standing in the bullpen. Morgan frowned.

"Why would JJ…" he started, but then his brain made the connection. So did everyone else's.

"She got a letter too," Rossi concluded for everyone. Hotch's stern face only confirmed it. Garcia let out a sigh.

"Oh boy… this just gets better and better," she said, sitting down again with a huff.

"Shit," Morgan groaned in agreement as he sat back in his chair.

"Speaking of the letters," Hotch cleared his throat. "Has anyone heard from Seaver?"

Rossi frowned. "She mentioned that she was going to use the days off and go out of town with a few friends…" Hotch nodded.

"It's possible she hasn't gotten my call then. I just want to be sure we're not missing anything," he said. Rossi nodded slowly.

"Possible…" he said the pivotal word again, looking around at everyone else. For some reason, even knowing Ashley's plans for the group's supposed days off, the word hung in the air. It wasn't comfortable for any of them.

Jason sat back in his chair. He didn't know Ashley Seaver, but he knew that until they heard from her anything was possible.

To be continued…