Emily tuned out the calls of her husband as she wrapped her arms as tight as she could around her daughter. After hearing that familiar scream from the front yard when her brother and her would start to fight, the parents had run out into the yard, and their five year old was nowhere to be found. The brunette couple had enlisted the entire town and police force to help them search the neighborhood and others nearby, and the little girl was finally found only a couple hours later hiding in the woods just behind their home.

"Claire? Claire why did you leave?" her father rushed out, falling to his knees beside his two favorite women. "Where did you think you were going, piccola? You know you don't leave the house without your mother or I."

Emily shook her head and looked to her husband with her dark eyes, feeling her daughter cry into her chest. This was not something to discuss at the moment.

"Daddy," Claire rushed out, her big doe eyes looking up from her mother's chest to see the older man looing at her with his worried gaze. "I'm sorry, daddy."

"Claire, why did you go?"

The five year old rushed into her father's arms and cried into his shirt, unaware of her mother on the ground behind her, wiping her tears away. "He was nice, daddy."

David Rossi pulled back. "He? Who's he?"

"The man!"

Emily quickly pulled her daughter to her chest as her husband ran over to the other officers and agents that surrounded their house. "Baby," the brunette woman whispered, kissing her daughter's forehead that was beaded with sweat. "Sweetheart, who was the man?"

The five year old shrugged her shoulders, letting her mother brush away her tears with the sleeve of her dress. "I don't know."

"What did he look like?"

Claire gave that famous face that let her mother know she was doing her best to think of the right answer, and the five year old just shook her head. "He's got dark hair."

Picking up her eldest, Emily carried the sniffling girl to their porch and looked to her husband. "Where's the sketch artist? We need her to give us a good description." No one was going to try and kidnap any of the Prentiss-Rossi children and get away with it.

They picked the wrong family to mess with.

Rossi ran his fingers through the ends of his daughter's long ebony hair and waited for the sketch to finally be completed. His wife was just in the other room, their fifteen month old son bouncing on her hip as she spoke to her mother on the phone. If there was anyone would could help, it was Ambassador Prentiss. They had already put an APB out for the kidnapper, telling all the news and radio stations to look for any dark haired male who was driving a dark blue van that Claire said the man was driving.

"Thank you." Emily quickly hung up her phone and gathered her friends around in the living room. "Alright, my mother sent out a dozen of her finest, and she contacted every department in the state. There are officers at all entrees and exits of the state line so if he hasn't gotten out already, he won't be able to." There had been a series of kidnappings in the area and the D.C police had thought they had caught the offender, but apparently not.

"Em!"

The brunette woman turned, letting her daughter crash into her legs and hug her around her stomach. "What is it?"

Rossi stood from his chair and handed the sketch to his wife, watching as her eyes widened at seeing the face that was drawn. "Look familiar?" he asked softly.

"No," she whispered, her hand shaking as she eyes flickered over every inch of the pencil drawing. "This can't be right."

JJ came up behind the pair and looked at the sketch, anxious to get the piece of paper in her hand and show it to the news trucks and cameras that were stationed outside the mansion. "Guys?"

"Emily, I'm sorry."

Emily shoved the paper in her friend's direction before kneeling on the hardwood floors, quickly taking her daughter into her arms. "You're ok," she whispered fearfully, her eyes stinging with tears as she smoothed her daughters dark curls down. "Mommy and daddy are here for you." Gently pulling back and ignoring the hussle around her, Emily looked into her daughter's eyes. "Why didn't you tell mommy that grandpa tried to take you?"

Claire fidgeted in her mother's hold. "Grandpa scared me, mommy," the five year old whispered.

Hotch looked between his two best friends as Emily stood from the ground, hating the sight of the brunette woman wiping away her tears. "What do you mean 'grandpa'? What's going on here?"

The ambassador's daughter gave her blond friend a nod to let her know she could go and inform the press stationed outside her house, and she folded her arms across her chest. "It's my father," her voice husked, looking to her boss with hard eyes. "He's supposed to be in Belgium, but I guess he thought it would be better to come and give us a visit."

"I thought he was in jail."

Dismissing her friend with a shake of the head, Emily sniffled. "He was convicted and sentenced to twenty years. He got out seven months ago."

Rossi held his wife to his side. "We have a protective order against him," he informed his best friend.

"Which obviously doesn't do shit," Emily hissed, fighting off her husband's arms so she could go and wrangle her kids in the living room. "We're gonna go to bed, ok?"

Claire's bottom lip quivered. "You mad, mommy?"

The brunette hiked both children onto her hips and let her daughter hide her face in her neck. "Not at you, baby," she almost growled, unable to hide her anger as she climbed the stairs to the second floor. "Not at you."