The Unsub's basement was dank, dark, and hardly suitable for the storage of boxes yet alone young women. Wading through the wreckage of generations past, Emily's heart sank at the sight of her: a slender female body, translucently pale in the torchlight, shining vibrantly amidst the garbage. A dark red-brown stain marred the dress she had worn to her sister's wedding almost seven days ago—blood long dried.

"Mary-Anne?" Emily called, her voice hitching slightly. "Mary-Anne Walker?"

The hand closest to Emily twitched, considered moving, and a low groan escaped the now trembling figure. "I'm here," came the faltering reply. "'M here…"

Emily broke into a jog, kicking aside upturned boxes in her haste. "JJ, I've got Mary-Anne, I need an ambulance," she spoke into her radio, but only static was heard in response. She repeated the message a couple of times, then gave up in favour of checking the girl over herself. Thankfully, the large blood-stain seemed to be deceptive.

"Mary-Anne, my name is Emily, I'm with the FBI, okay? I'm going to get you out of here."

It took a minute but Mary-Anne insisted on being helped to her feet rather than waiting for the paramedics, adamant that she was able to stand. Within the young woman on her arm, Emily tried again to radio the team upstairs with the same result.

"Can you walk if I help you?"

Mary-Anne nodded firmly, though she winced as she stepped on her right leg.

"Where is everyone?" Emily sighed, but Mary-Anne soon drew her attention again, beginning to cry. "Hey, it's okay. You're safe now. Your mother's been worried out of her mind, she and your sister are waiting at the station."

"My mother wouldn't care if I was dead," Mary-Anne scoffed, a wobble to her tone. "She as good as kicked me out when I told her!"

"When you told her what?" asked Emily uncertainly—the mother hadn't said anything about an argument, but parents rarely did if they could help it.

"Of course she wouldn't tell you. I'm gay."

Nudging a box aside with her foot to clear Mary-Anne's way, Emily feigned disinterest. "Oh? So am I," she replied casually, but the girl's reaction was more extreme than she expected, and Emily almost stumbled as she stopped in her tracks. Regaining her balance, Emily paused to realign herself with the injured girl. "Mary-Anne?"

"You are?" she whispered, although she didn't dare ask any louder.

"Yes, I am," Emily replied, a little disconcerted. "There's a woman right now that I love very much."

"But I've never met another one before!"

Something flared up inside Emily but she suppressed it. "I suppose that's small towns for you," she sighed. "I was raised in a strictly catholic community myself."

"Will you tell me about her?"

Emily shifted uncomfortably and glanced up the stairs—why hadn't anyone followed her down? It was eerily silent, and the radio was still dead. "Keep walking," she told the girl. "I'll tell you a little." Then she winked conspiratorially. "Just don't you tell the lovely blonde woman you'll meet upstairs."

Mary-Anne nodded eagerly and Emily took a deep breath in.

"Her name is Jennifer, JJ… She's gorgeous. Very quirky. She grew up in a small town not far from here, actually."

"Does she… know?"

For the first time in her own living memory, Emily blushed. "I told you, it's a secret."

"Is she…?"

"No." Emily glanced around the large basement. "DuBois kept you down here?" she assumed. Mary-Anne didn't reply, causing Emily to turn her head and give her a concerned look, but the girl continued to hobble with her head down. "Are you okay?"

Mary-Anne shrugged. "I suppose I must be… You do… have the guy, don't you?"

Emily smiled encouragingly. "I wouldn't take you upstairs if we didn't have everything under control."

Mary-Anne continued to fidget. "But you can't contact your team, right…?"

"Probably just a technical issue," Emily replied, albeit a little cautiously. "Would you rather wait down here a minute?"

Mary-Anne nodded silently and Emily helped to lower her so that her back was resting against a fairly solid box, then dropped down beside her, while keeping her hand on her weapon

"Tell me more about Jennifer," Mary-Anne implored, bringing her knees up to her chest smilingly. "You looked happy when you talked about her."

Emily smiled too. "She has that effect on everyone, but she can be damn scary when she wants to be."

"Emily!"

Emily cringed as the door at the top of the stairs was kicked open and she stood slowly, giving her anxious charge a knowing smile. "We're fine," she called up the stairs. "We thought we'd wait to come up until we'd heard from you…" She trailed off as she saw the tears sparkling in JJ's eyes as she rushed over, closely followed by Hotch and Reid. "Jayj…" she murmured wonderingly as the girl she loved flung her arms around her neck and pulled her close.

JJ offered no explanation, apparently beyond words, and Hotch stepped in, his tone brisk and serious as usual. Emily watched him over JJ's shoulder. "DuBois just told Morgan he had a partner waiting in the basement," he glanced around the empty room skeptically. "Bluffing, apparently. But JJ was furious at me for letting you go in alone."

Emily raised an eyebrow at the brief flick of almost-humour in his tone, and gave JJ a quick, appreciative kiss on the cheek before releasing herself and stepping back.

"That's not all he said," JJ added anxiously. "He described how his partner was likely carving up "the female agent in the basement" as we spoke." She shivered. "You should have heard the way the guy was talking. He thought it was funniest thing ever…"

Emily shook her head, a little put out. "But I never saw the guy, how'd he know I was in the basement." She glanced down at Mary-Anne, to see if any response had registered, but she was gone.

"Where's Mary-Anne?" she gasped, whirling around, only to have JJ clamp her fingers tightly around her arm and jerk her around to face behind her.

Mary-Anne was standing at full height, barely wincing at the pain of her injuries, and holding a small, powerful handgun pointed right at her. "Put your— Put your hands up. All of you."

She didn't ask them to remove the guns from their holsters, Emily doubted she even thought about it. The look in her eyes was desperate, wild. She wasn't thinking.

"I didn't want to kill them, I had to. I had to!" she cried, begging them with her eyes to just understand her, the way that no one else ever had. "They made me feel dirty for it. But it wasn't dirty! There was nothing wrong with our love!"

"Of course there wasn't," Emily agreed slowly. "You know that, now they do too."

"I did the right thing! So me and Lucy could live happily! I had to get rid of the obstacles, didn't I? And DuBois, he showed me how. The best way to get rid of them so no one would ever— ever—"

"Of course, Mary-Anne. You did the right thing," Emily appeased her. "We're not here to hurt you."

Mary-Anne made a skeptical noise that was almost a sob. "Not you. Not you! You're too ashamed to tell the one you love that you love her! You're just like Lucy! It's not wrong, damn it!"

Hotch glanced at Emily, whose face had gone pale. "Why don't you come with us," he suggested to Mary-Anne mildly. "Then Emily can tell the one she loves. You're in control here—"

"She— She has to do it now," Mary-Anne whimpered, waving the gun slightly. Then, addressing Emily: "You have to prove to me you're not ashamed! Otherwise you're just like everyone else, just words!"

Hotch spoke as though explaining to a small child: "Emily can't do anything down here; there's no reception. Why don't we all go upstairs?"

"N-No. Now!" Mary-Anne insisted, and Emily had to fight not to look away, bow her head, or show any sign of embarrassment.

"I'm not ashamed," she said, more to herself than Mary-Anne. "It was never because I was ashamed. And Lucy wasn't either, Mary-Anne— It was just… too hard. Nobody would have understood."

"They'd understand a hell of a lot better where you come from!" Mary-Anne exclaimed, brandishing the gun unnecessarily. "You have no right to pretend like you understand! It's not the same for you as for me! You live in the city, it's not the same! Just do it!"

"Tell her what you want her to do," JJ begged. "Do you want us to go upstairs so she can use the phone—?"

"No! Emily! I'll count to ten!"

"For God's sake, Mary-Anne—!"

"Jayj, don't," Emily sighed, but JJ's voice was increasingly shrill.

"Emily, this is insane! How can you possibly—?"

"It's you, JJ. I love you."

JJ's eyes widened slowly, her lips forming a round 'o', but she quickly regained herself and leaned over to give Emily a quick, cautious peck on the lips before turning back to Mary-Anne. "Are you happy?" she asked heavily.

In those few moments Mary-Anne had crumpled to the ground and Hotch was on top of her, ridding her of her weapon. When he had her in handcuffs he nodded sympathetically at the two women. "I'll have the local cops wait a minute before coming in if you two want to find some common ground," he suggested solemnly, and although Emily refused at first, she allowed JJ to catch her arm and hold her back.

Tears began to fall the moment the basement door closed.

"I'm not ashamed," Emily repeated quietly. "It's nothing to be ashamed about…"

"Of course it's not," JJ agreed, her voice reminiscent of the exchange between Emily and Mary-Anne only minutes ago. "So look me in the eye if you're not ashamed."

Reluctantly, Emily dragged her head up a little.

"Do you really love me?" JJ asked, almost a whisper.

"It was stupid of me to say that to her, but she was the victim, and she was alone and confused," Emily tried to explain. "I didn't know—"

"That's not what I asked you," JJ interrupted, causing Emily's breath to catch in her throat.

"Yes, I love you," she replied, looking down again.

JJ's hand caught her chin and held her head up. "Good," she said firmly, looking Emily directly in the eye. "I'm glad you do."

Emily swallowed hard. "Do you…?"

A short, happy laugh bubbled from JJ as she nodded her head.

"Do you… really?"

"I do love you, Em," JJ stated wonderingly, moving the hand on Emily's chin up to cup her cheek, and running the pad of her thumb across it affectionately before letting it fall. Emily couldn't reply, awestruck, and JJ smiled widely. "We should go back up. The police won't like to wait much longer to trample over their crime scene."

Emily nodded wordlessly and followed JJ up the stairs, where Morgan met them. "Here're the girls of the hour," he said cheerily. "Everything settled between you two? Hotch filled me in on what happened down there."

JJ blushed lightly. "Everything's fine," she said honestly.

"Emily?" Morgan pressed.

"Fine," Emily barely choked out.

"Happy tears? Sad tears?"

"Happy," JJ replied, taking Emily's hand reassuringly and bringing it up to her mouth to kiss it. "Really happy."

Morgan grinned widely. "Glad to hear it," he chuckled, and then added as he turned to walk away, "Garcia was afraid that you two would never get together, but I wasn't worried." He winked boyishly. "I always knew you'd come out right."

"How did you—?" Emily began, only to be cut off by another laugh: Reid's.

"Last Christmas JJ had a mad drunken rant about your obliviousness," he volunteered, "And how much she wished she could be sure you 'swung that way,' even though we assured her you did."

Neither Reid nor Morgan could help but laugh at the look on the girls' faces.

"You thought you could hide it?" Morgan asked. "I've never seen two people more obviously in love than you two."

"Which is good," came Hotch's voice from behind them both. "Mary-Anne had a suicide note on her person. She was going to kill herself and take as many 'intolerant bigots' with her as possible." He smiled secretively before turning away. "Good luck, girls."