I'm back! See, the three week wait wasn't so bad was it? Got a lot written in that time. So this story picks up almost immediately after Second Chances. If you haven't read it, that is okay. The stories do stand on their own. And as always, I will a new chapter every Wednesday. Those who have read my previous story, know I'm a consistent poster.

Now its time for the normal disclaimers. I don't own any of the Criminal Minds characters, I just borrow them. Secondly, I'm not a shipper. There will be no romantic relationship between the characters. So don't waste your valuable time asking, hinting, or wishing that I pair up certain characters. It is never going to happen. Sorry.

That said, now go read and enjoy.

"Which one is he?"

Emily turned to find Derek Morgan standing next to her, hands buried in the pockets of his unzipped jacket. "What are you doing here?" she asked in a voice tinged with annoyance.

He just shrugged. "Just watching a Lacrosse game like you."

Emily let out a snort of disgust. She turned her attention back to the playing field where twenty teen and pre teen boys coursed up and down its length trying to throw, scoop or kick a small rubber ball into the goal. "You following me now?" she accused him.

He gave her a crooked grin. "It wasn't hard. Cab drivers never notice that they are being tailed."

His teasing fell on deaf ears. Emily did not return his smile, obvious upset that he was here. She stared determinedly ahead, jaw clenched, mouth set in a firm line, eyes cold and unreadable. She was dressed similarly to him, in jeans and a jacket to ward off the chill of a cool autumn day. Only hers was zipped all the way up, covering the sling that still supported her right arm. The end of the empty sleeve was tucked into the pocket so that it didn't flap around in the breeze.

Most of Emily's injuries from her second fight with Doyle had healed. She no longer limped except when she was really tired. The splints on her two fingers were gone which she was extremely thankful for. They had been itchy and she could never reach the spots to scratch. The heavy and inflexible brace she had worn on her wrist and hand had been traded in for a lightweight and flexible version. She had regained almost full motion in her shoulder but her slow healing collarbone was hampering its recovery. As a precaution the doctor wanted her to continue wearing the sling during the day for the next two weeks.

"Which one is Declan?" Derek asked again.

"Matthew," she corrected. "Number twenty-nine in the blue jersey. He's on defense and his position is cover point."

"What does that mean?"

She shrugged. "I have no idea. All I know is that Lacrosse reminds me of ice hockey except that it is played on grass."

A shout went up when Declan's team scored the winning goal in the final seconds. As the boys slapped each on the back for a job well done, Emily turned to leave.

"Aren't you going to stay and congratulate him?" he asked, puzzled by her behavior.

"No," she said bluntly, heading for the parking lot and pulling out her phone to call a cab.

Derek hurried to catch up with her. "Why not? I'm sure Declan would be glad to see you."

"Morgan," she warned him in a low voice that he was overstepping his bounds.

He pressed on oblivious to her warning. "You were gone for a long time. He must be wondering why you stopped coming."

Emily whirled around and he stopped dead in his tracks. He could feel the anger radiating off her. "It's none of your damn business, Morgan," she growled. "Just drop it."

Derek held up his hands and took a few steps back. "Okay. Okay. Consider it dropped."

He had no idea that Emily would be this touchy about Declan. He had thought with Doyle dead she would be more open with her relationship with the boy; that they would no longer have to keep their visits a secret. Declan was now safe from his father. Derek was actually looking forward to meeting this boy who was an important part of his partner's life. For now he would drop the subject and wait for her to cool off and judging from how angry Emily was right now, it might be a long time.

She glowered at him for a minute before resuming her trek to the parking lot.

"I'm sorry, Emily. It was not my intention to upset you," he said in apology, matching her stride. When she didn't respond he continued. "Let me make it up to you by driving you home."

Emily glanced sideways at him then let out a deep breath. "Fine."

"Good," he said in relief and gestured to her left. "My truck is parked over there."

She veered in that direction. Derek unlocked the truck by remote and by the time he had the driver's door open, Emily had climbed into the passenger seat. She had the seatbelt buckled and was staring moodily out the windshield. Derek shook his head as he pulled out of the parking space. She was really pissed at him.

They drove in an uneasy silence for several miles before Emily started paying attention to the scenery. She turned to him frowning. "This isn't the way to Rossi's."

"I know but I need to swing by one of my properties real fast. The new roof was installed today. I hope you don't mind."

"Well I don't have much of a choice now, do I?" she groused. "I wish you had told me before I got into your truck. I would have just called that cab."

"I'm sorry," he apologized to her for the second time in less than hour.

Emily stared out the window some more. Since she was now stuck with him she might as well make the most of it. "Where is this property?" she asked, just to be polite.

"Dupont Circle."

Her eyebrows rose. "Nice neighborhood, but pricey."

Derek glanced at her, glad that she was talking to him again. "I know, but it was in bad shape so I got it for a song."

"Nice," she said with a nod. She kept it to herself that she was a little curious about his piece of property. This was the first time he had ever taken her, though unwillingly, to one of his works in progress.

Minutes later they rolled to a stop in front of a sad looking Victorian row house. Emily cringed at the sight of its exterior. Someone had painted over the red brick, which she could see peeking through, with a hideous shade of yellow. Derek laughed at her reaction. "Horrible isn't it? I plan on removing it."

"Good," she said, still staring at the building. Besides the horrid color it did have some charm.

Derek got out of the truck and poked his head back in. "Do you want to wait out here or come in and look around?"

She sighed and opened the door. "I guess I'll come in. I don't want to sit around in the car especially if you are going to be gone a long time."

"Great." He trotted around the truck and waited for Emily by the gate in the wrought iron fence than enclosed the row house's weed choke front garden. "Once the paint comes off, all the architectural design in the brickwork will stand out," he said as he led the way up the cracked sidewalk to the steps that had railings also made from the same material as the fence. At the top was an oak door painted puke green.

"Someone had lousy taste in colors," Emily commented as they mounted the stairs.

Derek chuckled as he unlocked the door. "It doesn't get any better inside."

The oak door groaned ominously as it swung open. Emily found herself standing in a small foyer. Directly in front of them was the stairs leading to the second floor. To the left was a doorway and running along the length of the stairway was a narrow hallway that probably led to the back of the house.

"Feel free to wander around while I check out the new roof," Derek said as he started up the stairs. "Oh. The floors are solid so you don't have to worry about falling though."

Emily nodded. "Good to know," she said and stepped through the doorway. "Must be the parlor," she observed, taking in the Victorian style wallpaper peeling off the walls.

Not bad, she thought. It had a nice alcove in the front with large windows on all three sides. They would probably let in a lot of natural light if they weren't so covered in grim. She looked up at the intricate crown molding encompassing the room and then went over to inspect the fireplace that the previous owner had stuck a space heater into. Emily wondered if the fireplace still worked and if it used wood or gas.

She left the parlor and walked down the hallway, pausing to open the doors along the way. One tucked under the stairs revealed a cramp half bath and the other one led to the dining room. She continued on and stepped into a seventies style kitchen complete with scratched and dented Formica countertops. Yuck was all she could think of to describe it. Emily wandered over to the back door and used her good hand to wipe away the dirt on one pane of glass so that she could look out. The row house had a nice size back garden that was paved with bricks, many of them cracked, and a there was a wooden deck that sloped precariously to one side.

The empty space started to creak and groan. Emily guessed that it was Derek coming back down the stairs. Quickly she made her way back to the front of the building and found her partner leaning against the newel, arms casually crossed, wearing a peculiar look on his face that she had never seen before. He looked like the cat that had just swallowed the canary, feathers and all.

"Well? What do you think?"

Emily gazed around again and shrugged her shoulders noncommittally. "It has potential but it is going to need a lot of work. A lot."

Derek's face broke into a grin. "I was hoping you would say that."

Emily turned to him puzzled. Then he did something out of character for him. He started shifting nervously on his feet. If she didn't know him like she did could have sworn that he looked like he was about to ask her out on a date, which was preposterous. She loved him like a brother and he always treated her like she was one of his many sisters. They were the best of friends.

He cleared his throat. "Emily? I have a confession to make."

Uh oh, she thought.

"This is the reason I followed you to Declan's game. I wanted to show you this place, but you hightailed out of the BAU so fast I didn't get a chance to ask."

Now Emily was totally confused and she said so. "Derek, I don't understand."

"You've been saying that you were having a tough time finding an apartment that felt right to you."

"I have," she agreed, not sure where he was going with this.

"Have you thought of something more permanent? A place of your own where you can put down roots?" he asked.

She stared at him perplexed then it hit her. "You think I should live here?" she asked incredulously.

"I do," he said with a nod. "You can buy it from me at the price I originally paid or if that doesn't work for you, we could set up some sort of payment system. I would still get to fix it up. You would get free labor and only have to pay for supplies."

Emily was at a loss for words. "Why?" she finally got out.

Derek sobered and looked down at the scarred pine floor. "You remember when I first mentioned my properties? That I needed to rip up floors and tear down walls to feel like I am accomplishing something?"

"I do," she said softly.

"I needed that feeling more than even after you died." Guilt flashed across her face. "About a month after your funeral I stumbled across this place. I took one look and it screamed at me: you. So I bought it and planned to fix it up in the way you would have liked. It was going to be a tribute to my best friend, a labor of love. Now I have a chance to do it for real."

"Oh, Derek. I don't know what to say." Emily shifted uncomfortably. "I really appreciate the offer but I just can't buy a house at the drop of a hat. It's something that needs to be considered carefully."

"Emily, I don't expect you to give me an answer right now. I just want you to think about it. Would you?"

"I will," she agreed, gazing back around.

Derek smiled to himself. He could tell already that his friend was looking at the place in a whole different light.

The two friends were in the basement discussing if there was a fireplace hidden behind a wall when one of their phones went off.

"Damn," Derek swore, pulling his off his belt and reading the text message. "Hotch wants me back at the BAU. Goodbye weekend."

Emily checked her phone to see if she was included. Since returning to work two weeks ago she had been restricted to desk duty until she was cleared to return to the field. She had a feeling that it wasn't going to happen anytime soon. In the meantime she would continue to sit in on the case reviews and help the team from the conference room when they were away. She sighed when she saw there wasn't a message waiting for her.

"Guess it is just you," she said, shoving the phone back into the jacket's pocket.

"I can drop you off at Rossi's on my way back," he offered.

"That would be out of your way," she said with a shake of her head. "I'll just ride back with you."

"You sure? Hotch can wait while I take you home."

"Positive." Emily shrugged. "It's not like I have a hot date lined up for this evening."

Derek chuckled. "Why don't I be your hot date? Let me take you out to dinner as an apology for pissing you off earlier about Declan."

Emily pretended to give him the once over as they exited the row house and walked back to the truck. "I guess you'll have to do in a pinch."

He grinned as he held open the passenger door. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes," she said as she climbed in. Emily waited for Derek to hop into the driver's seat. "At least until a hotter guy comes along and then you're history," she teased, snapping her fingers.

Derek winked at her. "That ain't going to happen, sweet cheeks. There is no one hotter than me." He laughed and Emily groaned as he put the truck into gear and pointed it to the BAU.

Emily settled at her desk while Derek continued on to the Unit Chief's office. He paused to rap his knuckles on the open door. "You wanted to see me, Hotch?"

"I did," Hotch said, looking up from his paperwork. He gestured to the chairs arranged in front of his desk. "Have a seat."

The black agent dropped into the nearest chair and looked expectantly at his boss. Hotch pushed a file over the surface of the desk. Derek picked it up and started flipping through its pages.

"St. Paul, Minnesota," Hotch began, "is in the process of neighborhood revitalization by tearing down abandoned houses. Workers yesterday found this in the attic of one of the homes they were prepping for demolition." He produced a picture of a body wrapped in plastic.

"They're calling us for one body?" Derek asked with a frown.

"No," he answered. "They're calling us in for these." He spread more photos over the desk. "The body count is up to six."

Derek's eyebrows rose as he studied the photographs. "They were hidden all over the place. In the attic, the basement, the walls, and buried in the yard." He leaned back in the chair and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Does the coroner know yet how long the bodies have been there?"

Hotch shook his head. "No. Preliminary findings show that some have been there for several years. They won't know for sure until the official autopsies are started."

"What do they want us to do?"

Hotch collected the pictures back into a tidy pile. "This is basically a consultation. Go and view the bodies and the crime scene. Interview the victim's families and build a profile that the locals can use to find the killer."

Derek sighed. "That's a lot for me to do alone," he pointed out.

"Take Prentiss with you."

He blinked at that and glanced out over the bullpen where his partner sat with her feet up on her desk reading. Emily had slipped her arm out of the sling to make holding the book easier, exposing the black lace-up brace on her wrist. "Has she been…" he started to ask.

"Yes. The paperwork came through after everyone had left," Hotch said.

"Emily will be happy to hear that. She's been itching to get back out in the field with us though she won't admit it if asked."

Hotch folded his hands on top of the desk blotter. "Morgan, in addition to delivering the profile, I will need you to evaluate Prentiss' performance during the consultation."

The black agent leaned forward in his chair. "Why? She seems to be doing just fine."

Hotch nodded in agreement. "Yes she is here in the office, but I need to know if Prentiss is physically and mentally ready for the field. If not, I will keep her here for a few more weeks and then try again."

Derek sighed. He didn't like the idea of spying on his friend and partner but he could see where Hotch was coming from. If one member was not fit for duty then the whole team could be put in jeopardy. "I understand and I'll do it."

"Good," Hotch said with a nod.

He fully understood that he had put Morgan in a difficult position. If he had tried to observe Emily in the field, she would have sensed it and would have become guarded in her words and actions. She didn't trust him at the moment. With Morgan, she would be more relaxed and less vigilant, allowing him to get a better read.

"Prentiss will have a few restrictions," Hotch informed him and the two men spent the next several minutes going over them. When done he said, "I'll call her and give her the good news."

Derek smiled and jerked his head at the door. "Actually you don't have to. Emily's out in the bullpen."

The Unit Chief turned to looked out the office window and was surprised to see her there, fully engrossed in her book. "Well, that does make it easier. Morgan, can you send her in?"

"Sure," Derek said. He hopped to his feet and made his way back to Emily's desk. He tapped her boots with one hand. She jumped slightly and gave him a dirty look. He ignored it and said, "The boss man wants to see you."

Emily dropped her feet to the floor and warily looked at Hotch's office. "What for?" she asked.

He shrugged noncommittally. "You'll just have to go in and find out for yourself," he answered cryptically. "I'll be in my office picking up a few things. Have fun."

She shot another dirty look at his departing back before turning her attention back to Hotch. "What does he want to see me for?" she mused aloud.

Had she somehow managed to get into trouble for something at work when she wasn't at work? Or was he going to attempt to justify his decision to take away her life without her consent again? At that thought she felt her indignation rise. He knew the subject was off limits, that she never wanted to talk about it or hear his excuses.

When Hotch appeared in the window of his office looking for her, she knew she couldn't put off talking to him any longer. Emily slipped her arm back into its sling and clamped down on the anger simmering just below the surface. Dropping the mask of indifference over her face, she mounted the steps and stopped just inside of his door. "Morgan said you wanted to talk to me?"

He turned from the window. "I did. Please come in."

"I'm fine where I am."

He glanced sharply at her. Why was she on edge? A moment ago she had been relaxed. Now she looked like she was armed and bristling for battle. Then it occurred to him that Emily must have thought he wanted to discuss his actions seven months ago. Well, what he had to tell her should put her in a more comfortable frame of mind. Hotch stepped over to his desk and casually leaned against it, hoping it would put her at ease.

"I've received your medical report from your doctor. You'll be pleased to know that Dr. Barrett has cleared you for flying and limited field duty," he informed her.

Emily kept a straight face but the tension in her shoulders eased now that she knew the conservation was work related. "That is good to hear."

"Tomorrow Morgan is flying to St. Paul, Minnesota on a consultation and you will be accompanying him. But as I said before it is limited field duty so there will be a few restrictions. You will be unable to participate in any takedowns of the unsub, you must have one of us with you at all times, and you haven't been cleared to drive. Otherwise you can conduct interviews, visit the crime scene, and view the bodies at the morgue. Do you agree to these terms?"

"Absolutely." Right now she would agree to almost anything to get back in the field.

Hotch pushed off the desk and went over to her. He smiled and touched her lightly on the sling-supported elbow. "It's good to have you back full time."

She returned his smile. "Thanks, Hotch."

He went back around his desk and sat down. "Have a safe flight and try to stay out of trouble," he said with a straight face.

"Will do," she said with a grin.

Keeping her emotions in check, Emily walked sedately to her desk, scooping up her jacket. She headed out of the BAU in search of her ride home. Once through the doors she glanced up and down the hallway to see that she was alone. Only then she let her joy out and did an enthusiastic arm pump. "Yes!"

There you go! The first chapter. Hope you all enjoyed it. Now don't forget to tell me what you think. Until next week.

Oh, there are only a few days left to vote for your favorite stories nominated for this years Profilers Choice Awards. Go check it out, there are a lot of good stories there.