"Why don't I got holes, mommy?"

Emily looked down to young girl in her lap, finishing up the braid that the four year old had so desperately asked her to put into her caramel colored hair right after they had had breakfast that morning. "What do you mean holes, baby?"

The little girl waited until her mother had finished her braid before jumping off of her lap and turning around. "These," she grinned, pointing to her cheeks.

"Oh, dimples."

Madeline hastily nodded her head, poking her fingers into the holes that had appeared when the mother of two smiled down to her. "Why don't I have those? You and daddy do."

Emily gave a shrug. "Not everyone gets dimples, baby."

The four year old tilted her head to the side, hearing her brother and father back in the kitchen a few feet away as she stared up to the woman she called her mom. "Mommy?"

Emily nodded, taking the small hands of the brunette girl in hers and rubbing the pads of her fingers over Madeline's soft skin. "What is it, baby?"

"I gots another question."

"Well you go right ahead and ask it," the mother of two smiled, doing her best to not show her amusement at the quiz she was being given by her daughter.

Madeline stepped closer to the older brunette and gestured for her to come closer, and she set her mouth right beside her mother's ear when she leaned down to her. "Why don't I look like you and daddy?"

Emily's eyes softened, knowing she and her husband had hoped for these questions to come later in life. "You don't think you look like daddy or me?" she whispered back to her, her fingers fixing the band she had put into her daughter's hair.

"Not really."

"Honey," the dark eyed woman sighed, leaning her forehead against the four year old's. "Why don't you go get your daddy and then meet me up in your room?"

Madeline grinned. "Ok!"

Waiting until the clueless little girl ran off to find her father, Emily let her head fall into her hands, letting out a breath when she realized that they wouldn't be getting out of this one. It had been four lovely years with their little girl, gracing Jack with the little sister he had wanted, and there had been no questions.

But now they had to come clean.

Emily stood from the couch and made her way up to the second floor of their home, smiling to her husband when he met her at their daughter's bedroom door and kissed her cheek. "Hey."

"So what's going on?" the older man laughed. "Maddy dragged me up the stairs without a word and is now playing with her dolls without giving me a single word."

The brunette woman folded her arms over her chest and shook her head, whispering, "Maddy asked me why she doesn't look like the rest of us."

Hotch's face immediately fell. "Oh." He turned, holding onto his wife's already sweating hand and leading her to their daughter's princess bed. "Madeline honey, will you come sit with me and your mother?"

Madeline quickly set down all of her dolls before racing over to her parents, jumping onto her father's lap when he reached down to hug her. "Hi daddy," she giggled breathily.

"Your mommy told me that you think you don't look like us."

The four year old's hair swayed back and forth behind her as she shook her head. "I don't look like Jack neither," she shrugged. "Why?"

Emily's hands wrapped around her husband's bicep. "Sweetheart, we need to tell you something. We're not the people who conceived you."

Madeline frowned.

"Ok, I'll word it differently," the mother of two chuckled. "Your daddy and I couldn't have kids of our own, so two very special and generous people gave us you."

The brunette girl's face contorted, and her parents could tell that it was hard for her to understand exactly what they were saying. "What does that mean?"

Emily ran her fingers down her daughter's apple cheek. "That means I didn't give birth to you, baby. But none of this means that you aren't ours any less than Jack is."

"Is Jack your baby?"

"Jack's mommy isn't your mommy," Hotch piped up. "He has a different mommy who went up to heaven just like grandpa."

Madeline played with her father's tie, her eyes averted from her parents. "So your not my daddy?"

"Of course I'm your daddy, sweetheart. Just because I didn't help make you doesn't mean that I'm not your daddy." Hotch looked seriously into the little girl's blue eyes. "You still sleep in our house don't you? You eat our food and we have our playtime together and we love you just the same as Jack, right?"

A laugh escaped the little girl.

"The people who gave you to us were just like you too," Emily grinned, loving the fact that her daughter was taking this so well. "You look just like Albert, that's your biological daddy's name. They couldn't afford to keep you and we really wanted a baby, and so you came to us."

Madeline frowned as she thought, never noticing her parents smiling as she tried her best to process the information. "Ok."

Hotch's eyes widened in surprise. "Ok?" That was it?

"Can I go back down now? I wanna play."

The two adults watched as the four year old immediately went back to her dollhouse, and the couple shared a kiss, smiling to their daughter from their spot on her bed with Emily's head on her husband's shoulder.