Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the recognisable characters in this story.

A/N: This is my first story. I recently got properly into Criminal Minds and this idea won't leave me alone. If people enjoy it, I have some ideas to make it multi-chapter and it would probably turn into JJ/Will fluff + team, so let me know if you fancy it! Set early season 3.

The Perfect Daughter?

Morgan's foot slammed into the door, breaking it open easily and allowing the BAU to flood into the room. The 5 remaining field agents trained their guns on the UNSUB who was holding their blonde teammate against him, pressing a gun to her head. JJ's body was limp in his arms, though her blue eyes did flicker in recognition as her team crashed in.

"Drop it Andrew, it's over," Morgan barked as he shifted restlessly, trying to find an angle to take a shot.

"It looks like it is. What a shame. Me and Jenny were just reminiscing wonderfully, weren't we?" he mocked lightly, tightening his grip around JJ's tiny waist as he spoke. She gasped in pain, squeezing her eyes closed and biting her lip, hard.

"Andrew…" Hotch tried to warn.

"I had it all planned out you see," Andrew began, cutting straight through Hotch. "We were going to go through all 29 years of Jenny's life and I was going to help her understand how hurt I felt each and every time our parents brushed me aside to praise her. We started with the chest, cause that's where the heart is and it hurt the worst. Unfortunately, I've only just finished the right arm, the one Dad always used to hold her by." He looked relatively perturbed by this problem, heaving a sigh and casting his eyes briefly to the floor. "3 more limbs to go, we'd only just reached your 7th birthday, eh Jenny. The year they rented the soft play centre for you, but didn't let me have a 16th cause I was doing drugs or some shitty excuse like that." His jaw ticked furiously at the memory.

"Andrew," Emily tried this time. "I know what it's like, having to live in the shadow of the wonderful JJ." As much as it pained her to turn against her best friend in this way, especially considering the torture she had obviously suffered over the past 24 hours, she knew somebody had to try and talk Andrew down and the men of her team were clearly too angry to even fake empathy towards 38 year old Andrew Jareau.

He slowly turned his eyes to her. "You have no, fucking, idea!"

"I do Andrew, I do. Every day I put in at least twice as much effort as she does. I contribute far more to our cases than the bloody Media Liaison, I mean, who even needs one of them? She prances around in nice blouses and skirts, flirts with the Detectives and the Press and flutters her eyelashes at dumbass over there," she jerks her head briefly towards Hotch, "and everyone eats it right up. And don't even get me started on when she tries to console the families. Nine times out of ten she fucks that up too and I end up covering her ass. But do I get any gratitude, oh no. She's too busy lapping up the praise and enjoying the attention."

"She's a self-absorbed little bitch, isn't she," Andrew smiled, clearly starting to believe he and Prentiss shared a hatred of JJ.

"Exactly. It's about time somebody else noticed it too!" Emily agreed. She hoped against hope that the difficulty she was feeling in telling this lie was not showing on her face.

"So, do you think you can hold your team off long enough for me to put a bullet in her head?"

Emily's eyes instinctively widened in horror. "No, no, no." The flash of anger on his face was enough to remind her to salvage the situation. "I mean, you haven't even finished making her pay yet. You've still got another 22 years to go through…" she paused to stare intently at JJ, willing the blonde to make eye contact and have enough strength to play out her plan. When the exhausted, pained blue eyes met hers she knew they were a go. The thought of what she was about to do made her want to throw up, but JJ's weak imitation of her usual bright smile reminded her exactly why she was doing this.

Taking a deep breath, Prentiss lowered her gun, took several steps towards Andrew and turned, levelling her gun at her teammates. She could almost see the wheels turning and prayed they had understood her thinking or she was about to get a bullet in the head. "Andrew, get her out the door and into the first SUV, I'll hold them back till you get out than I'll come join you. I know a place we can go where we can finish this together." A near imperceptible nod from Hotch told her he'd figured it out.

Reid's brow furrowed as he tried to work out exactly what was going on. He'd never been great at emotions, but he'd always figured Emily and JJ got on quite well. Certainly, there had never been anything to suggest Emily detested JJ to the extent her speech had implied. Out the corner of his eye, he caught Hotch's nod and suddenly everything made sense. Shifting his body slightly out the way of the door he watched closely as Andrew paused to consider Emily's suggestion. After a tense 5 seconds he grinned sadistically and began to move towards the door, hauling JJ with him.

The second step was what JJ had been waiting for. She let her legs drag at an angle so as to get caught-up in Andrews. Their tangled legs caused Andrew to stumble, bringing the gun away from her temple as they both began to go down. She heard herself cry out as he crushed her left ankle, the bone snapping audibly as he struggled to stay upright. It was a losing battle and, as they toppled towards the floor, JJ realised she had mere seconds before Andrew would instinctively pull the trigger. Reaching up with her right arm, determinedly ignoring the white-hot burst of agony that shot up it, she removed the clip from his gun, milliseconds before the hollow click of an empty barrel sounded.

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