AN: A quick little warning. The language and some of the scenes in this are a little more graphic than in the last chapter. Hope this particular scene isn't too bad or triggering for anyone.

2 weeks earlier:

4:30 am

Michael McFadden drunkenly stumbles out the near empty doors of McFadden's place and into the sidewalk. Half of his dark green shirt was tucked messily into his khaki the other hung out loose and free exposing a little bit of the beer belly he had developed, thanks to thirty years of hard partying. The balding, red head with a receding hairline, held a vice grip onto the door as he held the door open for the attractive, young brunette behind him. He bows lightly in her direction and as she walks out the door, she turns around and smiles at him in thanks for opening the door for her. He reaches down and then takes a sizable amount of her ass into his heavy palm and squeezes it tightly. When he's done, he lightly swats it for good measure.

She turns around sharply and smacks him in the face so hard, his pale, stinging cheek turned a bright red. He smiles goofily at her retreating form as he lets go of the door.

"See ya next time sweetheart!" he catcalls to her in a hearty yet harsh Irish accent, showing his stained dark yellow teeth in the process. "I like em feisty!"

As she gives him the bird, his laughs grow louder. He closes the door and manages to stumble around the corner into the dark alleyway, leaning against the opposite wall where the local bum usually sleeps. Tonight had been a very goodnight for his business and he spent the night celebrating it with his buddies. A couple of investors were interested in franchising McFadden's place into other big city hubs across America, due to the success of his bars in DC and Boston. They were in the negotiating phase of the deal, merchandising rights and ownership rights. They also discussed how much Michael was going to get out of the deal. So far, it looked like he would be achieving his dream of buying a private island on the coast of Tahiti, where he will retire handsomely with beautiful island maidens at his beck and call, after all. He puts his head on the white brick and smiles dreamily.

Being Ian Doyle's gopher boy actually paid off in the end for the fifty-eight year old. The smarmy bastard managed to keep his word after closes his tired eyes and let's the past play temporary host to his daydreams.

Thirty-years ago, he was a line cook slumming, like most of the population of North Dublin, as a line cook in a dinner when he first met Ian Doyle. He was a young, brash lad who made hell for the McDermott's and took every opportunity possible to rub it in his face. He remember Doyle ordering some corn beef and hash to go with his black coffee, his usual . He had a shiner almost the size of his fist, stretched down to his nostril. It had apparently been a long night for the young upstart. At the time, Michael was very tall and muscular, with biceps that were the size of Ian's head. The waitress had been busy at the time, so she told Michael to deliver Doyle his meal. Their conversation was brief and polite, talking about the latest disappointing rugby game. After a few minutes, Doyle had been ready to go. But before he did with a mischievous gleam in his baby blue eyes, told Michael to go in there, tell his boss to piss off and Michael would never have to work in a shit hole if he didn't want to for the rest of his days. At first, the red head had thought that Doyle had a little too much to drink the night before. But seeing how serious the young brogue looked, he couldn't help but take his offer seriously. He threw his apron to the ground, slapped the ass of the waitress who told him to bring Ian his food and told his boss to piss off and quit. And Ian was right, about that. Probably one of the only things the man was right about.

With Ian and his puppet Liam, they helped make Doyle one of the most feared former arms dealers in the business. In the early days, it was a well oiled, three man operation. Ian came up with the ideas and Liam made sure that they were carried out to the letter. And Michael served as the muscle, or as most people fearfully called him, the enforcer. Whenever McFadden would pay a visit to someone who wasn't loyal to Ian, didn't follow his orders or was a McDermott, it was almost guaranteed that you would not be heard from again. McFadden even came up with the idea of Ian's insignia, the heart shaped four leaf clovers, to let others know that this was Doyle's territory. He took pride in his job and throughly indulged in all of the perks that it provided him with.

But it all ended one day, ten years ago, when he had a heart attack in the middle of a he came to from his bypass, Ian sat faithfully by his bedside and made sure that his longtime friend would be okay. He gave McFadden enough money for his twenty years of loyalty to be comfortable and became a silent investor in McFadden's place for a short time. Ian backed out of McFadden's after operation Valhalla blew up in his face and he was sent to some hellhole prison in Russia. He felt sorry for his old friend's troubles and wished that he could have met the bitch who helped take him down and teach her a lesson himself before he killed her.

One day, about a couple of years ago, McFadden had the chance to do just that. He remembers a brunette with bangs, wearing all black, being dragged into the bar by two overexcited blondes. One of his barkeeps had backed out of his shift at the last moment, so he had to cover for him. All three of the women, who could have been in their mid thirties, sat down at the bar and were egging the brunette on about something. He thought they were all attractive and he was happy to talk to three beautiful women. But there was something about the brunette that seemed vaguely familiar.

With a glass in his hand, he walks over to the lovely ladies and introduces himself. They all smiled politely at him and all ordered the best ale that he had in stock and that it would go on the brunette's tab. The curvy blond with the glasses, wearing every color of the rainbow, told him that it was the brunette's birthday and that they were celebrating. He stares at the brunette again and tells her happy birthday and receives a shy smile as she hands him her black American Express card. He turns around to swipe the card, not plan on charging the ladies extra for their drinks for the night and gets out three clean mugs for the ale. The red head looks over to his wall of photos and his eyes land one of Ian and his last girl, a Lauren Reynolds, taken four years ago before Ian was locked up. Doyle had said that this one might be his last one and they even had plans to marry. Unfortunately, she died the next day in a wreck, along with two Interpol agents as Ian was taken into custody. He remembered Doyle being broken up at the news. McFadden knew that there was no damage that the Russians could inflict upon him that death hadn't already done.

The bar owner takes a hard look at the photograph and then glances over to the brunette at the bar. His green eyes widen and nearly popped out of his head when he realizes that Lauren Reynolds was alive, in the flesh. Not only was she alive, she sat ten feet before him, joking with her friends at the other end of the bar. He could have sworn that the lithe blond hanging on the shoulder of the brunette had called Lauren, Emily. His grip on the lever tightens as he fought to maintain control of his was sitting over there having the time of her life, while Doyle was rotting away the rest of his.

He turns the keg off and walks over to the ladies. McFadden apologized to them and said that he needed to see their ids, just in case they had been lying to him and they were much younger than they were, which earned a laugh from three women. They flashed him their badges, but he paid very close attention to the banged brunette. His suspicions were Reynolds had been Emily Prentiss, a Fed. And thanks to her, Doyle was rotting in a Russian prison.

He gave them their drinks and bid them a lovely evening and made sure to bid miss Reynolds a happy birthday. The brunette flinched and corrected him, to which he apologized and said that she reminded him of someone that he knew long ago. He went into his office and told Riley, his assistant manager, that no one was to disturb him for the rest of the night. McFadden then made a call to a lad named Jeremy, a former fed who had smartened up and agreed to be Doyle's informant for a hefty price. He told Jeremy that he knew that Lauren or Emily as it was, is still alive and that he should tell Doyle that she is living the life in DC as an FBI agent.

A few weeks later, he had gotten word that Doyle escaped and killed that bitch Emily, Lauren or whatever her name was. But not without suffering causalities of his own. His lap dog Liam had been one of those causalities. He may not have liked or agreed with Liam at times, but what a rough way to go.

Two days after receiving word on his old cohort, Doyle showed up at his bar, looking like a broken man. He tells McFadden that his boy is still alive and that he was going to find him. That he wouldn't let Emily take Declan away from him again. The red headed bar owner offered a room in one of his slum apartments downtown, rent free, in the name of their past friendship. His old boss was thankful and offered to repay him whenever he got back on his feet,but McFadden had promptly turned him down. He considered Ian to be like a brother to him, his family and the red head always treated his family well.

For two years, he and Ian would have a good old fashion Irish brunches, fit for kings every Sunday after Mass. McFadden would try to convince the stubborn bastard to grow his hair out into a beard and settle here in DC when he found Declan. But Ian would always say that settling was not an option. He would go on a rant about being a warrior and how warriors did not back down. He was going to get his empire and son back, even if it was the last thing he did in this world. McFadden would shake his head at the old fool and say nothing more about it. They would then go on to talk about rugby and the old neighborhoods of North Dublin, wondering if some of the buildings were still standing.

McFadden opens his eyes when he starts to feel his bladder tingling, time to take a leak. He forces himself off the wall and leans an arm against it when he feels himself began to slip. A little bit of slobber comes out of his mouth as he struggles to get the zipper of his pants undone. He relieves himself on the wall and when he's done, he pulls the zipper of his pants up once more.

The red headed McFadden doesn't see a dark figure approaching him from behind, on the opposite side of the alley. That the figure had been watching him the whole night from a corner booth in the bar. He doesn't notice the thick rope in the gloved hands of the figure, dangling out of their hand. He doesn't know that the last moment of his life will take place while he is in a drunken stupor, peeing in an alley. He doesn't know that this dark figure had already gone through a majority of his old friends and acquaintances while he was with Doyle and whose bodies were now sitting in their respective counties' morgue. He doesn't see the figure stop directly behind his back and wait a couple of moments to make their move.

But McFadden does feel his head being shoved into a wall and the rope being placed around his fat neck. His attacker yanks the rope hard and his head along with it. He can't breathe and his meaty hands struggle against the rope. He uses his weight to back his attacker into the next wall, which works for a few moments. But not long enough for his attacker to let go and allow him to put up a fight. He feels the air rapidly escape from his lungs and his large six foot three frame kneels forward. His skin begins to turn blue and his head feels as light as air. His attacker pulls on the rope one more time, but this time is different. They quickly and effectively pull the rope in opposite direction of his head, breaking his neck in the process. As they had done to three other times before him. Michael McFadden's body, with his green eyes wide open, falls to the ground.

Michael McFadden was no more.

The dark figure places two fingers underneath the man's fat neck to confirm that he was in fact dead. They walk away from the body for only a moment to run down to the other side of the alley and retrieve something out of a black nineteen-sixty-nine restored black Mustang at the end. They get a dark bag, that could almost pass for a dry cleaning bag, and close the door. The figure lightly jogs back over to the body. They turn McFadden onto his back and hesitate for a moment. The figure closes the dead man's eyes in pity, an act of compassion that they were sure the red headed man did not deserve in death. It was more compassion than this man showed to any of his victims the twenty years he spent doing Doyle's dirty work. The figure sets the bag onto the ground and proceeds to carefully place McFadden into the bag.

When they are done, the figure stands up, bends down onto the ground and lifts the part of the bag with the man's upper body, leaving lower body to drag onto the ground. The journey back to the car had been long and tedious, carrying the nearly two hundred and fifty pound man. And as soon as the figure got back to their car and placed McFadden's body into the back seat, they take a moment to lean back onto the classic car and rest. When they were done, they got into the car and drove out of the alley to their next destination, New Orleans. Where there would be an open house for the Flanagan family home that would take place the next day. Or as the dark figure remembered, home of victim number fourteen.

6:30 am

The Lamontagne home:

The morning rays of the New Orleans sunrise shined on the short, dark brown hair of one William Lamontagne, who had his bare arms wrapped tightly around his wife, Gabrielle. His hands wandered down and protectively covered his wife's ever prominent baby bump. In just four months time, Henry would have a little half sister, Lily and he would be a father once again. This time though, he would be a little more prepared for it than he had with his boy.

Two years ago, if anyone would have told him that he would meet the true love of his life, have his job back as a senior detective at the NOLA homicide division, while still be on good terms with his former fiancee and son. That his life would be as close to perfect as one could get, with someone that wasn't JJ, he would have thought you had lost your mind. For a long time, he tried to convinced himself that JJ was the one and even though circumstances brought them together, they were still meant to be. He was sure that his ex had done the same thing with him. But the truth is that they were only trying to make it work so that Henry could have a mother and a father. They hadn't stayed together because they were really in love with one another. Looking back, Will doesn't think that they were ever really in love at all.

They probably would have kept the charade going, had he not saw Gabby waiting in JJ's office while she was still at the BAU. He was coming to surprise JJ for lunch, only to discover that she wasn't there. He goes to Garcia's office, to see if she knew where his fiancee was. Only to have her tell him that she was in the middle of a briefing and headed to Spokane right after.

Disappointed, he was about to turn around and leave. But he stopped when this beautiful brunette with crystal blue eyes and a nice tan approaches him, introducing herself as Gabrielle Cormier and asked where Agent Jareau's office was. He immediately picked up on her thick, Cajun accent right away and asked her what part of the Bayou state she was from. She told him that she was originally from New Orleans, but was currently living in Baton Rouge, as a US district attorney for the Middle District. She was here trying a capital case for the next few weeks or so before she would be going back to Baton Rouge. She was also visiting her boyfriend who worked primarily in DC.

They ended up in a ten minute long conversation about their hometown before Gabby gave him her card and said that they should meet up again sometime, as friends, if he ever felt a little homesick. They met up for coffee a few times before she went back to Baton Rouge and it was nice for him to have someone that knew where he was coming from.

Over the next year or so, his friendship with Gabby grew stronger as his relationship with JJ deteriorated. When JJ took the job with State Department, he thought that all of the fights, mainly about her traveling with the BAU, would end. He, JJ and Henry would be a happy family once again now that JJ was working a nine to five. Unfortunately, it hadn't worked out that way. One of their fights had gotten so bad, that he decided to go home to New Orleans for a couple of weeks to clear his head and cool his temper.

To his surprise, he bumped into Gabby at a dive bar he used to go to on his first night back. She tells him about missing home and deciding to take a job with the District Attorney's office here. The whole time that he was there, they hung out and went bar hopping together with his old friends from the was the only time in the last three years that Will truly felt happy and at home, like his old self again. The whole that had grown within him since he moved to DC to be with JJ and Henry, had filled.

On his last night there, he and Gabby had gotten a bit caught up in the hanging lights and romantic scenery all around them, he took her hand in his. By the end of the night, she invited him back over to her new place for a couple of night caps before he would go back to his hotel room. He never made it back to his room that night. The next morning, he found himself wrapped around the naked attorney and ended up taking a later flight back to DC. Gabby saw him off and for he first time since JJ three years ago, he was sorry to see her go.

Will never told JJ about what happened when he came back to DC. Subconsciously, he thinks that the blond already knew. JJ had known about Gabby being a good friend of his and she said she had been okay with it. That it was nice for him to have a little reminder of home, if that was what he needed.

JJ started working more hours at the State Department and coming home later. Sometimes when he would wake up in the morning to an empty bed, he would find her sprawled out on the couch with her work files all over the place. He would kiss the top of her head and put the files in a stack for her before making breakfast for the three of them in the morning. When she wasn't working late, JJ would spend most of her free time entertaining Henry. The conversations that they would have together were short and casual. They didn't really talk about anything anymore unless it pertained to Henry. He continued to get to know Gabby, even though he knew it was wrong to do this to JJ. But as far as he was concerned, their relationship was over.

He realized that things were not going to work out with JJ. It was only a matter of time before one of them wised up to that fact and had the courage to end it for good.

That time came one afternoon, when JJ stormed into the house without so much as a glance to Henry or himself. She made a sprint for the stairs and hurried into their room. By the time he was able to catch up to her, their room looked like a tornado had blown through it. He tried asking her what was wrong, only to receive a clipped reply saying that Emily was in trouble. When Will tried to get her to explain more, that maybe he could have done something to help, JJ just kept asking about a long bright orange envelope that she left on the dresser. He told her that he put in it the drawer, not wanting her to lose it when she left for work this morning. The blond then threw open the drawer and ran downstairs. And after a quick goodbye to Henry, she sped out of the door. But not before telling him that she would be at the BAU for the next couple of days, helping them with a case.

Will had known that Emily and JJ were close. The brunette agent had even stopped by while he was in New Orleans and saw her for a couple of hours, according to was going on with his fiancee's former coworker must have been real bad if it got JJ in a frenzy like this. But he was also curious as to why JJ would lose her cool in the way that she had.

For as long as he had known his fiancee, JJ was always cool, composed and seemingly fearless in the face of the horrors she saw day in and day out. Most times, he wondered how she could do what she did every day and not want to eat her gun. Today, when he briefly looked into the blond's eyes, he terror was one of the things that he saw there. He also saw sorrow and regret, as well as something else. Something that he would not understand for another few weeks, when JJ returned from her assignment in London.

Three days later, he understood the terror in JJ's eyes as he watched the Nightly News report segment on the death of Emily Prentiss, FBI Agent and daughter of Ambassador Elizabeth Prentiss. At the hands of Ian Doyle, who had escaped the FBI raid on one of his warehouses. It happened to be playing when JJ walked back through the door with slumped shoulders and darken red rimmed eyes. She only got a couple of steps through the door before he rushed over and caught her slumping form before she hit the floor. He held her as tightly as his arms would allow as she fell apart in his arms. Will had been thankful that Henry was a deep sleeper and could not hear his mother's cries.

The week after she returned home, JJ insisted on going to Emily's funeral alone. She said that she wanted Henry to only have happy memories of his Aunt Emily and that it wasn't necessary for him to see her in a casket. He tried to argue that it would be good for him to get closure and understand that his Aunt wasn't coming back. But JJ had told him about the facial injuries that Emily had sustained She didn't want to upset Henry with it, so that was why it was best for them to stay here. When the blond came back hours later, she grabbed Henry out of his lap and took him upstairs and cuddled with him in their bed. Will slept on the couch and talked to Gabby all night about JJ. And how he was worried about her. Gabby assured her that she'll get better with a little time and he told her that he hoped so.

The next morning, JJ tells him that she has to go to London for some State Department assignment and that she wouldn't be back until next week. He didn't quite believe her, but knew that they were both too physically and emotionally spent to question it. He nods at her and watches as she walks out the door. He doesn't know what prompted him to do it, but Will ended up going to the attic, grabbed a few of his suitcases and started to pack his things. He called Gabby and told him that he would be back home permanently as soon as JJ came back from her assignment. It was time for him to leave and let JJ have the life that she wanted to have. A life that obviously wouldn't include him in it.

Will spent the next week with his boy, knowing that this would be one of the last times he would be able to do so for a while. He treasured that time with Henry and made sure that the week was the happiest for his son. They went to the zoo, took him on his first go cart. And they spent the weekend in their underwear watching cartoons and eating cereal When Monday came, he kissed the top of Henry's long blond hair and told him he loved him no matter what happened. To which the boy happily nodded as he fell asleep by his daddy's side.

When JJ returned, she seemed more hollow and empty than she had before she left. He knew that she would not tell him what was wrong if he asked and would go on, pretending to be fine. She didn't even looked surprised when she walked in to find the suitcases. Will told her he was going back home and JJ nodded in understanding. She even told him to send her best to Gabby and to thank her for the flowers she sent for Emily's funeral. Will turned around and hugged JJ, who tried to give his ring back to him. He politely declined and told her that it was a gift, that he didn't want it back. He kissed her temple and looked around their former home together. And before he walked out of the door, Will advised a tearful JJ that she should find her bliss and do what makes her happy. Even if she couldn't be with the person who made her happy anymore. Even if the possibility of being with Emily wasn't an option anymore.

That evening, he left for New Orleans and Gabby was happily waiting for him at the airport. They kissed and headed back to her place to start their new lives together. He got his job back with the NOLA police department after promising to buy around of drinks for the boys. A few months later, he proposed to Gabby in the spring. The following summer, they were married in front of their friends, family, Henry as the ring bearer along with JJ. And surprisingly enough, every member of the BAU. Agent Rossi even offered up one of his vacation homes in Cape Cod as a honeymoon present.

Nearly a year later, they found out they were expecting a child of their own. The first of many, he secretly hoped, not that he would ever tell Gabby that. She had told him that she refused to be a baby making machine for the detective and he was just fine with that. They moved out of her apartment and found a nice four bedroom house in a quiet neighborhood a couple of months ago. Luckily for them, the BAU happened to be working a case around the area and they offered to help them move in. They told them the news of their pregnancy and everyone seemed thrilled for them.

Even JJ gave him a bright smile with a fond congratulations to both of them and ended it with a crack about how fertile he was. Garcia offered to come down there a couple of months ago to help decorate the nursery. She had a color scheme for the room picked out and ready to go for when she got there. Last week, she sent Gabby the color scheme and the brunette urged him to take a few days off to work on the nursery with her and beat Garcia to the punch. He laughed at his wife's suggestion, but suddenly stopped when he realized that the brunette was not kidding around. Knowing Garcia, he knew that the scheme would be as out there as its creator. So he relented and managed to talk his boss into using a few weeks out of his vacation time that he had saved up.

For the next week, he would be at Gabby's beck and call, hopefully for other things that have nothing to do with painting as well. At least that was what the detective was hoping for.

Unfortunately for Will, his job had other plans.

The french horns blare from the dresser, where his phone currently sat. He opened his eyes dug his head deeper into Gabby's brunette locks, doing his best to ignore the noise. Whoever was calling would just have to wait a couple of hours. After four rings, the horns stop and Will closed his eyes once again.

The horns started up again and the detective reluctantly lets his wife go. His left arm reaches out for the white Iphone. Through his sleep filled eyes, he tries to look at the caller id.

"Answer that damn thing, mari." Gabby tiredly tells him, her voice thick with sleep. He leaves a lingering kiss on her cheek and rolls over onto his back, placing the phone to his ear.

"Lamontagne." he croaks out, his accent a little more thicker than usual.

"Will, I need you down here now. We got a situation." his partner Beau urgently tells him.

"Dammit Beau, you know that I'm s'ppose to on vacation for the next couple of weeks." Will said, turning over to the side facing his dresser. "Why can't you find someone else to go with you."

" I know that but this is important, it's about the Flanagan case. Another body turned up at the house."

Will sits up looking quizzically at the new information his partner had just told him. A few months ago, they received a nine-one-one call from the Flanagan residence. His wife, Shelly Flanagan, woke up to find that her husband had not gone to bed that night. She immediately heads to his study in the basement, not thinking anything of it at the time. According to her, Duncan's study was practically his second home. She hears the sound of one of his Tom Waits records blasting throughout the study. When she walks in there to turn the music off. She shrieks in horror to find her husband tied to his chair, with a ball gag in his mouth and a gunshot wound to the temple. As well as one other on his thigh and another to the abdomen. According to the medical examiner, Duncan Flanagan had been dead since nine pm the previous night. Will noticed that there was a four leaf clover that had apparently been branded onto his chest. When he asked Shelly about it, she said that to her knowledge, her husband had never branded himself.

Duncan's murderer left nothing behind that would help them locate them. They were smart enough to wear gloves and take any shell casings and the bullets that were lodged into Duncan with them. They couldn't even find a finger print anywhere in the crime scene or a footprint outside the basement door. When they talked to the neighbors, none of them had seen anyone but Duncan and his family go in and out of the house. One neighbor did hear the sounds of a car engine rumbling, but assumed that it was just someone passing through the neighborhood. They asked them to give a clear description of the car, the only thing this neighbor could say was that the car was black.

Will and his partner spent weeks trying to find some sort of break in this case. He was determined to find this son of a bitch and bring him in, if only for his own piece of mind. He lived four blocks from where the murder occurred and he was concerned about the safety of his growing family.

Unfortunately after a couple of months, the case grew cold. There were a couple of times when the southern detective was tempted to give JJ a call and see if there were any other bodies with the clover branding in the FBI's Vicap database. But hedecided against it. At the time, they weren't dealing with a serial murder,so there was no need to bring the BAU into his case.

Will runs a hand through his hair and sighs. "Have you looked at the body yet?"

"Briefly, but it was kind of difficult to look at the poor son of a bitch from where I was standing."

"What do you mean by that?"

"The realtor came in about an hour ago, to do some last minute touch ups for the house before the presentation. She came into the living room and found the unidentified man hanging from the staircase bannister. There were no traces of blood or footprints and like the Flanagan murder, no one saw the perp enter the house."

Will sighs in frustration then turned his head to look at his wife and brushed back a strand of her dark locks behind her ear. It looks like their baby vacation would have to wait a little while longer.

"Okay. Did you find anything else, B?" Will asks, moving his legs to the side of the bed.

"The body had a four leaf clover branded onto his chest like Flanagan. Except it's on the right side of his chest."

"Alright. I'll be at the house in a few. Make sure to leave the body as is and don't have the ME cut em down until I can get a good look at em." he orders his partner.

"See you soon. And sorry about the vacation Will.I know you was looking forward to it."

"That's alright Beau. Like my ex used to say, psychopaths nevah sleep or take a holiday."

Will hangs up the phone and sets it back down on the dresser. He sits down with his head hung low in thought. He hated that this son of a bitch could slip in and out without being caught. What was he, Spiderman or something? They could look at this new body, but he knew they wouldn't find a damn thing that would help them. And the guy was probably long gone by now and out of their jurisdiction.

Maybe he should give JJ that call after all.

His thoughts cease when he feels a kiss on his bare shoulder. Two arms wrap around his neck from behind and he feels his wife's swollen belly on his spine.

"Call her, Mari. You know that she and the team will be happy to help." she says kissing along the inside of his neck.

"Was planning on it, cherie." he said, turning his head, kissing her. When they pull apart, he cups her cheek. "You know I don't wanna go right?"

Gabby nods. "But it'll drive you crazy not to know who did this and why. A crazy, brooding Will is not exactly the kind I or our little girl want to have to deal with. So go."

She kisses him once again, this time lingering on his lips longer than the last. When they break the kiss, he leans in further and rubs his nose into hers. "How in the hell does a son of a bitch like get lucky to have someone like you in his life?"

"Luck of the Lamontagnes I guess." Gabby jokes and he laughs lightly along with her. She slaps him on the back and playfully shoves him out of the bed.

Will makes his way to the bathroom, hoping upon hope that Beau had a steaming, extra large mug of coffee and a few donuts waiting for him at the scene.

9:30 am

FBI headquarters, Quantico Virginia

Penelope Garcia's lair

The normally bubbly and effervescent technical analyst, Penelope Garcia, sat slumped over one of her babies. She had spent a majority of the night before skyping with mister wonderful. After nearly two weeks of missed calls and promises to catch up each other, he finally managed to catch her on the video calling program. He didn't go into detail about his latest assignment, since it was technically classified information. But he did tell her about his close call the other day with an IED exploding a few yards away from his convoy. His bosses gave him the rest of the day off and he wanted to spend it with his girlfriend, which made the blond secretly swoon.

She caught him up on everything that was going on at the office and excitedly told him about how she was teaching Rossi how to make a vegan friendly version of a fettuccine dish. He came into her office a couple of days ago, asking for some information and stole a bit of the fettuccine that she made last night in for lunch, while she went to print out his stuff. When she came back into the room, he had a mouthful of noddles in his mouth and some sauce on his beard. He asked her what it was and she told him it was a vegan fettuccine. He reluctantly conceded that this was the best he's had in a while and convinced her to come to over to his place and give him the recipe. When they were done, they kicked back with their food, a nice malt and Louis Armstrong serenading them with his trumpet. He also tried to get her to tell him who this mystery guy is. Mr. Wonderful laughed heartily and got a real kick out of the older agent's antics.

Garcia couldn't believe how well things were going so well with this guy. He was her complete and total opposite in every way, especially personality wise. But for some reason, they managed to make it work. They spent the rest of the night talking and telling each other how much they missed each other. When Penelope felt herself get tired, he stayed on the line until he was called out by one of his bosses on the assignment. She only managed to get about forty-five minutes of sleep before she found herself quickly throwing an outfit on with mismatched socks and running out of the door.

The blond has had three cups of coffee and a blueberry muffin, yet that hadn't done anything to give her the energy that she desperately needed for the morning. She hadn't even bothered to go into the bullpen to see the boys and Blake because she didn't have the energy to come up with her usual witty barbs and comebacks. So she went straight to her office and booted up her babies. She closed her eyes when the first screen came to life and was snoring by the time the main monitor sprung to life.

Garcia didn't hear the click-clacking of the liaison's black heels of her best friend entering into her domain.

Wearing her dark navy blue shirt, black work slacks and one of Emily's old black and silver watch turned on the inside, JJ walked into the door way of the Garcia's office. The blond liaison had been there since seven thirty this morning, getting back to various detectives who wanted consultations on their cases. She had gotten through a majority of the cases on her desk, with profiles on the guys that they were looking for and politely telling them that they would not need the BAU's assistance. There were a couple of interesting cases on her desk that seemed promising, a string of abductions and murders of female college students in Albuquerque. And a possible serial killer in Sacramento. She was going to hand Morgan and Rossi both files to see if they should give the detectives there the green light.

Every morning at exactly eight-thirty, Garcia would burst into her office and spend nearly an hour gossiping, talking about her mystery guy and talk about JJ's lack of a love life. Trying to convince her to go out on a few dates with her single men and women friends. The quirky technical analyst even managed to get Blake to not so subtly set her up with a few of her older graduate and PHD students. No matter how many times JJ tried to tell both women that she was happy focusing on her jobs and Henry. That she wasn't actively looking for anyone at the moment. Luckily Hotch, Morgan or Rossi would come in and save the day, by telling them that they had a case.

But this morning when she looked up from her file at eight thirty, expecting her loud daily hello sugar plum greeting, JJ became concerned. Either Pen wasn't here today or she was caught up at the office. Wanting to check and see, JJ grabbed the two cups of coffee that she had gotten fro herself and her best friend this morning and made her way down to the office. Along the way, the blond ran into Andersen, who told her that he saw Pen, sleeping in her office.

A predatory smirk appears on the blond's lips as she thanks the agent for the tip and makes her way to technical analyst's lair. When she gets to the doorway, JJ makes sure to take smaller steps being careful not to disturb the other sleeping blond. She steps behind her big black chair, listening as Pen turns her head into the opposite direction and snorts. The liaison shakes her head at her best friend and maneuvers her arm around the chair, setting the coffee away from the analyst's precious computers.

A chorus of snores suddenly erupts from the chair and JJ has to do everything within her power to not bust out laughing. She takes her free hand and brushes it lightly against the analyst's neck.

"AHHH!" the technical analyst screams as she jolts awake.

The liaison watches as her best friend suddenly jumps out of her seat and hits JJ's coffee with her purple sweater clad arm. The coffee tumbles all over her dark shirt and Penelope manages to knock her own mug onto the floor. Even though the profiler hadn't anticipated her own coffee being spilled, Garcia's reaction had made it worth it. She smiles and laughs wildly at her best friend's over reaction.

The technical analyst turns around, scowling at her best friend, which causes JJ to laugh harder.

"Not funny Jareau! Especially not after the last case with that creepazoid!" Garcia remands the snorting blond. She reaches over to her desk drawer and pulls out a medium sized hand towel. She shoves it into her best friend's hands and turns her chair around to face the media liaison.

"Sorry Pen. Just couldn't help myself." JJ says, after she manages to calm down a little. She wipes the coffee off of her shirt and throws the towel back, with it landing in Garcia's lap. "I take it you had a long night with the mysterious stranger."

"Only to you sugarplum and yes, it was amazing." Garcia tells her with a dreamy smile and gaze on face. "He was amazing as well. And dreamy."

"Aww, did the oracle of Quantico experiment with 'skype sex' last night." JJ said, wiggling her eyebrows only to have the towel thrown back in her face.

"No way my dirty bird. Get that pretty little head of yours out of the gutter." Garcia leans further back into the chair. "Besides, there were way too many people around him to even think about 'skyping'. I am a lot of things, but unfortunately for you, exhibitionist is not one of them."

"That's a shame because I so was looking forward to living vicariously through you." JJ says cheekily as she walks over to the other chair and sits down in it. She lies back and turns it to face Garcia.

"You wouldn't have to live vicariously through me, if you would stop being so damn picky." JJ shrugs her suggestion off. JJ knew that at some point and time, she would have to accept the fact that Emily was gone and move on already. She just wasn't sure if she was ready to do it right now. It was easy for everyone to tell her to move on with her life, it's all the blond has heard since her relatively amicable split with Will. If only the team knew the real reason why dating someone was not an option. JJ couldn't help but think that for being some of the best team of profilers on the country, they really did suck when it came to understanding each other's romantic entanglements.

The media liaison felt silly pining over someone that she never actually had the chance to date but for some reason, she couldn't help herself. She looks down at the minute hand of the watch to avoid Garcia's concerned gaze.

The technical analyst scoots her chair closer to her best friend and puts a comforting hand on her shoulder and before she could voice her concerns, the media liaison's phone chirped. She looks down at the Iphone and sees that it's a text message with the name Cajun highlighted. Will

Are you busy? Can you voice conference wit me right now? Its an emergency- Will.

JJ scrunches her eyebrows in concern, wondering what was going on. It couldn't possibly have anything to do with Henry, since he was fine when she dropped him off this morning. Maybe Gabby was in trouble. Whatever it was, it must have been important enough for him to text her on his week off.

Yeah sure. Whenever you're ready-JJ

She exits out of the messenger and taps the on video conferencing application. She sits back and waits for her ex to appear on the screen.

"Is there something going on with Will?" Garcia asks worriedly.

"I don't yet. He said it was an emergency and that he needed to conference with me ASAP." JJ replies as she is lifting the phone high enough for the technical analyst to see.

"I hope everything's alright with Gabby's alright and not having any complications or anything."

"Me too, Garcia. The fifth month is always the hardest." JJ said sympathetically. She remembers wanting anyone to use the jaws of life to get Henry out of her by the fifth mont of her pregnancy. The doctor had wanted to place her on bed rest for the duration of it, but JJ and Will both agreed that would not work at all.

Before she had a chance to think about her pregnancy any longer, the stubbly face of her ex fiance appears on the screen. He gives her a warm smile, which he returns.

"Hey dawling." Will greets in a drawl.

"Hey you." JJ said, leaning back into the chair. She notices that his eyes are red and he looked a bit hungover. "Long night with the wife?"

Will chuckles. " I wish sunshine. My morning's been longer than my evening ever was. What about you? Looking good as usual."

"Thank you kindly, sir." JJ mocks, mimicking his accent but failing miserably as he shakes his head at her. "I didn't get in until about two. Your son wanted to see the midnight showing of Captain America:The Winter Solider last night with his Uncle Derek and Uncle I couldn't say no or get out of it."

"Sucks for you, Jareau. Being around all that testosterone that is." he chuckles. "Did he have a good time, at least?"

"He should have. He fell asleep in my lap as soon as that camp in New Jersey blew up. He didn't wake up again until the last twenty minutes or so of the movie."

"Aww, our little man isn't quite ready to appreciate a boys night out yet." Will says, adjusting the web cam a little.

"Thank god. I'd be in real trouble then."JJ replies a little relieved.

"As much as I'm enjoying this cute little banter going on right, I'd like to be a part of it." Garcia says impatiently, standing up and leaning over the arm of JJ's seat.

Will tilts his head, getting a better look at the technical analyst. He bows his head at the other blond and smiles.

"I apologize for my rudeness oh great Oracle of Quantico. How are ya hun?"

"All is forgiven my Cajun prince." Garcia says with a grin. "How are our Cajun princesses doing? Is everything alright with them?"

Will sighs. "Other than being mildly annoyed with this case that I'm currently working interfering with my vacation, they're doing just fine. Lily started kicking the other day and I'm starting to think we got another soccer player in the family." he finishes, winking at JJ, causing the media liaison to laugh.

"That's good to know." JJ tells him earnestly. She was happy that Will had found what he wanted and that can still be friends. "So, what's the emergency about? Why did you need a conference right now?"

Will sighs deeply, thinking that it was now or never. Running a hand through his hair, he stares into the camera with a solemn look in his eyes.

"A few months ago, there was a murder about four blocks south of Gabby and I's home. The man's name was Dustin Flanagan, retired from a successful shipping company."

"That's terrible." Garcia says, receiving a nod from Will in response.

"It was. His wife, Shelly Flanagan, found him tied up with a ball gag in his mouth, in his basement study. His record player blasting music from the night before, loud enough to wake the neighbors. Unfortunately for him, Duncan and his wife had the basement sound proofed when they moved into the house twenty years ago for that reason. Flanagan took a gunshot to the thigh, one to the abdomen and a kill shot to the temple. He had been there since nine pm last night, the last time his wife saw him alive."

"Did the unsub use a silencer?" JJ asks.

"Think so. It woulda been the only way they could kill em without his family hearing the gun go off. Problem is, we couldn't run a ballistics test to find out."

The media liaison looks on in confusion. " And why couldn't you run ballistics."

"Because, the unsub as y'all call it, didn't leave anything behind. No bullets, no shell casings. They took those wit them when they left."

JJ and Garcia share a quizzical gaze before turning back into the tiny camera of the Iphone.

" You mean to tell me that there were no finger prints, no DNA anywhere in the basement?" JJ asks skeptically.

"That's exactly what I'm saying. Crime scene unit dusted that basement and the perimeter around it from top to bottom and didn't find a damn thing." Will said frustrated.

"Did you speak with the neighbors?" JJ asks.

"Every single one of em. None of them saw anyone outside of Duncan, his wife and two daughters enter the house. The one neighbor who did notice anything only heard the sound of a car engine and said that the car was black, from what they could see from behind."

"We worked the case for a couple more months until my boss told me to mark it cold for now. The Flanagans moved out of that neighborhood soon after and his wife put the house up for sale. There was s'ppose to be an open house this afternoon but something else happened."

The profiler nods. "Which is why you wanted the conference call."

Will smiles a little, in spite of the way this conversation had gone. " You know me so well, sugah."

The serious expression reappears on his face. "This mornin, at around 5:30, the realtor stops by the house to do some last minute preparations for the open house presentation. Imagine her surprise when she discovers the body of a fifty eight year old overweight man hangin from the bannister of the stairs. She called my partner Beau, who was getting ready to go home after the night shift and reports the body. B called me and told me that I needed to get down to the house to examine the body."

The two women sit back and absorb the information.

"Was this guy shot too?" JJ asks.

" No. According to the ME's preliminary report, the second man was strangled about two days ago. His body had gone into rigor. I'll fax over the reports and crime scene photos to you when we're done."

"What makes you think that these two cases are related?" Garcia asks.

"Are you in a position to open your email, Penelope?" Will asks, with his drawl getting thicker. "I'll send you what we found."

"Give me a couple of seconds my Cajun stallion." Garcia said at the same time she turns her chair away from them and onto her main monitor. She starts typing an address into the browser for the FBI's personnel site and inserts her credentials.

"On Flanagan, we found what we initially thought was a tattoo on his chest." Will explains as Garcia gets into her email and opens the email from Will. "The medical examiner said that it wasn't a tattoo, but some kind of branding. Cecilia believes that it was done post-mortem."

Garcia clicks on the photos and enlarges them. "The first one, the tanned looking one, belongs to Flanagan. The pale one I took this morning from our unidentified man."

" Both of these were done post postmortem?" JJ asks.

"Yeah." They watch a younger detective tap Will on the shoulder and hand him a file. He skims through it before closing it again.

"Looks like our unidentified fella has a name after all. Michael McFadden of Georgetown DC."

Garcia's eyes perk up in recognition. "Wait a minute, owner of McFadden's place?"

Will nods at them and JJ's eyes look down at the watch.

"We took Emily there for her last birthday. Before Doyle." JJ notes quietly. She manages to put a little bite into Doyle's name as she says it.

"What was he doing in New Orleans?" Garcia asks, diverting the conversation for her best friend's sake.

"No idea. Maybe a last minute trip or something. Hard partying going horribly wrong." he suggests. "Tends to happen a lot here."

JJ turns away from the tiny camera and over to the technical analyst.

"Garcia, can you run a background check on our two victims. See if they have anything connecting them at all? And can you run the clovers through Vicap, in case there are other bodies matching the branding?"

"You got it my liege. Give me a few minutes to work my magic. And you'll have everything you need." Garcia said as she begins running her background check. JJ nods and turns back to Will.

"Why are you telling us about this case just now?" JJ asks curiously.

"Cause, I thought we'd get a break or something before we involved the BAU. But so far, we got nada."

Will's partner Beau walks up to him and he turns his back to the camera. They talk for a couple of moments before Will faces the camera once again.

"Sorry to cut this call short, Jajaye, but my wife is here with breakfast." Will said apologetically."But I'm coming up there this weekend to hand you all the physical evidence personally, in case y'all decide to take the case."

"I'll talk to Morgan and see if we'll work this case or not. It's his turn to wear Hotch's big boy pants for the next two weeks." JJ cracks. "I can't guarantee that he'll go for it though."

"Those are some pretty big pants to fill. Don't envy the poor guy at all. " Will chuckles. "Whateveah help you can give me on this case is appreciated. Take care, dawling and send Henry my love."

"I will. Later Will." JJ says before she disconnects the call and sets the phone down on the desk. She narrows her eyes to examine the brandings on the screen. They were definitely the same symbol, a four leaf clover, but the profiler noticed a few subtle differences to the brandings that Will might not have picked up on at first glance.

On Flanagan's, it looked like his branding was applied precisely. The lines were done perfect and the unsub didn't make any mistakes. It probably didn't take the unsub much, if any time at all to apply it and if Duncan had been alive, it wouldn't have hurt as much to put it on.

McFadden's clover was a different story though. The same precision that the unsub applied to Flanagan's clover remained the same. But it looks like the unsub took their time applying McFadden's and repeatedly went over it over and over again, until McFadden's looks more like a burn than a tattoo.

Whoever did this must have been pretty pissed off with McFadden.

"Garcia, can you blow these up and print them off for me?" JJ asks, not taking her eyes off of the screen.

"Sure." Garcia said as she completes JJ's request while the media liaison stands up and goes to the printer. As she's doing that, the flatscreen on her left starts beeping, where she was running a search through Vicap. She moves over to the left and pulls up the results. Reading through the results, Garcia's eyes widen and a gasp escapes from her lips.

"Oh dear. This is not going to be pretty."

JJ sits back down with the photos in hand. "Are homicides ever really pretty, Garcia?"

"No, but this looks like a hot damn mess." Garcia focuses her attention on one result in particular. Dated March 4,2011. "There were approximately sixteen bodies with four leaf clover seared on post postmortem, like our two gentleman in New Orleans. Three in New York, six in Boston, two in LA and four right here in DC."

"Great, we're dealing with a possible serial killer whose mobile. Those are always fun." JJ said sarcastically.

"It's gets more fun from there sugar." Garcia says solemnly. "One of the bodies, it wasn't actually seared on. It was a tattoo." JJ looks at her inquisitively and starts to ask her what that's about.

Only to be interrupted when the technical analyst turns in her chair to face her.

"Do you remember the name Byron Delaney?"

JJ frowns. "Vaguely, but remind me does he have to with this case?"

"While you were working in the State Department, we got a case involving the murders of two families. One looked like a murder-suicide, while the other was a gas leak. Turns out we had it wrong and they were cover ups. Later on, we found out that the victims worked for some secret international security organization. Specifically, the one that was responsible for Ian Doyle's capture and imprisonment." Garcia said quietly. "Delaney was the handler for JTF-12."

Blue eyes widen in shock and disbelief. It couldn't be, not after two years of nothing but the occasional unconfirmed sightings and dead ends.

"The group Prentiss worked with before she came to the BAU." the media liaison says quietly.

"Precisely doll." Garcia said sadly. " Hotch sent Morgan and Prentiss to interview Delaney, only to be ambushed by Doyle and his men when they got there. Emily managed to shoot one of his henchmen in the knee, taking him down. Doyle managed to finish him off but not before shooting off his managed to recreate it from parts left on his skin. It was a four leaf clover." She pulls up the unidentified man's tattoo for JJ to see it.

"This looks exactly like the ones branded onto our victims in New Orleans." JJ points out.

The blonds sit in silence for a few moments, mulling over the possibility that Doyle has returned and what it could mean for them and for Declan. Would he try to finish what he started with Prentiss and come after the rest of the members of the BAU and the people that they loved? Would he come after the people that they loved, like he had with the JTF-12 until he got what he wanted, Declan?

Jareau, you can't think like that. This could still all be a coincidence. The media liaison takes a deep breath and quickly composes herself. She stands up and makes her way to the door.

"Garcia I need everything that you can find on our New Orleans victims in my office ASAP and don't work anything else until you do. If they have any possible connection to Doyle at all,I want to know about it. This is our priority right now." JJ orders."I'm going to talk to Derek about this ."

"You got it." Garcia says turning around and starts working on the other victims while the background searches continue to run for McFadden and Flanagan. The media liaison walks out of the office but stops as she remembers something.

"Garcia."

The technical analyst turns around and glances at JJ. "Yeah?"

"Don't tell the others yet. Let's keep this between the two of us and Morgan." JJ requests quietly.

Garcia nods, understanding exactly where her friend was coming from and goes back to work. While secretly hoping that this will be the break that they were looking for. If this in fact Doyle announcing that he is back and ready for round two, the team would be better prepared to face him than they had the last time.

10:30 am

Unknown hotel room

The dark figure stands motionless in front of the mirror gazing at their reflection. They hadn't bothered to take off the mask after McFadden. They were too ashamed to look at themselves after the red head was killed.

The figure hadn't meant to strangle him in the manner that they had, but something inside of them just snapped when he saw the way that he treated that girl. Suddenly any remorse that the figure may have had for what was about to happen to McFadden evaporated. He felt no remorse for what he had done to that girl. And the figure was sure that he felt that way about anything else he may have done to the people he killed. The many families who received their presumably missing loved ones dismembered in bags or disposed of in dumpsters. All for what, making a deal with the devil? But why should he feel guilt or remorse? McFadden was living the good life on the blood spilt of others. As far as he was concerned, he was living his happily ever after and he was foolish enough to think of himself as invincible. At least until he met me that is.

Their boss is not going to like the fact that they had showed a moment of weakness and lost control. The figure was expecting a call from the burner charging into the wall at any time saying as much and probably more. The dark figure gazes into the mirror like all the times they had before, and found that as each day passes, it was getting that much harder to look at the mask staring back at them. They didn't know how much longer they could keep this up without coming completely unhinged. They needed to end this soon and the figure knew that they could not wait on their bosses' say so to do it.

It was why they took Flanagan back to New Orleans and hung him in their last victim's home. The figure hoped that someone in the New Orleans homicide would be smart enough to connect the dots and link the murders together. That would definitely piss the bosses off for sure.

The dark figure looks over to the picture that is taped on the bathroom mirror. It was a little blond boy, dressed in a Captain America costume, sprawled tiredly across his beautiful mother's shoulder. He had seen them in the movie theater and waved happily in their direction. The mother and the two men who were with her, a scrawny man wearing a sweater vest and a blazer. And a tall, muscular, good looking black man cleanly shaven. They probably wrote off the wave as excitement for the upcoming movie. He had told the figure, during one of their night visits, that he was excited to go see it with his mommy, Uncle Derek and Uncle Reid. Then he proceeded to pretend to be the superhero while the figure watched from the chair. The figure watched the boy playing happily and felt something other than the pain, anger and sorrow their job brought them, joy. Whenever the dark figure could, they would visit the boy and watch him play. Sometimes, they would quietly join the boy in his roleplaying.

The dark figure strokes the picture tenderly, suddenly renewed with purpose and commitment to what they have to do, even if it did rip a piece of them in two every time. The figure was filled with hope that they would get to see the young boy in the light of day instead of the shadows of the night and everything would be out in the open in due time.

The phone buzzes and then rings with a familiar standard ringtone, causing the figure to sorrowfully step away from the mirror and the picture.

Time to go to work. Again.

AN: Wow, thank you all for the responses to this was a lot more than I was expecting and it means a lot to me that you enjoy it. Hope you enjoyed reading this installment of the story and that you stick around for more. Next time JJ talks to Morgan and discuss what is going to happen next. There may or may not be a little more information on our dark figure revealed next chapter.