Emily was aggravated. No, that was an understatement. She was pissed, and damn sick of looking at the walls of the conference room. After an hour, a female cop had come in and brought them dinner. Half an hour after that, Declan had to use the bathroom, and when the same cop offered to take him, Emily nearly bit her head off. Cops they may be, but Declan wasn't leaving her sight for anything. It had been an hour and a half at least since then, and it was getting late. Declan had already fallen asleep in her arms, fear wearing him out. His feet hung over her lap, and his head was tucked against her chest.

The door finally opened, and her eyes widened to see none other than Clyde Easter.

"Clyde? What the hell is going on?" She demanded, eyes blazing.

"Relax, Em. Your cover is in tact." He assured, sliding into the seat next to her.

"Good to know, but not what I was referring too. Who do we need protection from? Why are we here?"

"You familiar with a man named Seamus Ronan?"

She nodded. "Yeah, has more money than God, known to be something of a sadist, deals in Doyle's world."

"That's him," Clyde began. He went on to explain about Flynn, and how Doyle wanted to stop him, but was afraid of retaliation from Seamus. Doyle had apparently come to then, offering information so they could arrest Flynn.

Emily sensed he was holding something back though. "Clyde, what aren't you saying?"

He sighed. "In exchange for the information, Doyle requested new identities for himself and his family, one Declan Jones and one Lauren Reynolds."

"Shit."

"Yes, you see how that could be a problem. He's afraid Seamus will come after all of you when he hears the part Doyle played in his brother's capture. Funny, the part that most surprised us was little Declan Jones. We thought he was the housekeeper's boy." His tone was pleasant, but his face was hard, lips pursed.

"Doyle kept him hidden to protect him," she stated.

"So, you did know then."

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Were you planning to inform the rest of your team?" He asked.

"No." Clyde's eyes widened and mouth opened, but Emily held up a hand. "I reveal his paternity, then when we leave, they use him as a pawn. I wasn't about to let that happen, and I won't apologize for it, Clyde."

"You've grown too attached to him, Emily." His eyes drifted to the four year-old curled against her chest.

"Maybe, I have," she said.

Clyde shook his head. "You've gone undercover a dozen times, I've never seen you like this."

"I've been under with Doyle for over 18 months, Clyde. To pull that off, some of it has to be real."

He just shook his head again, like he was disappointed in her.

Ian had spent hours in that room, going over all the information he had on Flynn Ronan. Considering his line of work, the police treated him with more respect and congeniality that he'd expected, but he supposed, even they have to concede the decency of a man who would take such risks to pull a child murderer off the streets.

He'd been informed earlier that Lauren and Declan were safely at the police station, and he'd see them shortly. Easter, the British Interpol agent, had left almost thirty minutes ago, while McAllister stepped out to call their contacts in the States. He was told to sit tight, and wait for them to return. Frankly, all the sitting and the small interrogation room were making him feel a bit claustrophobic. Ian was a man of action, not the type to sit on his ass and let others sort things out for him.

"Mr. Doyle," Easter greeted, pushing the door open, the other agent right behind him. "We're arranging a flight to the States, and expect to leave early tomorrow morning. In the meantime, the locals have found us a house to rent, we'll all stay there overnight."

"You've spoken to those American Marshal people?" He asked.

"We have. After Flynn Ronan has been apprehended, you and your son will be given new identities and monitored by their agents."

"What about Lauren? That was part of the deal." He should have figured he couldn't trust them.

"Ms. Reynolds has elected not to go with you."

"What? Where is she? I need to speak with her." He knew this wasn't an ideal life, or what Lauren had signed up for with him, but it wouldn't be a bad life. How could she say no?

The Brit nodded. "I'll take you to see them now."

He followed the Interpol agents down the hall, and through another hall that went past the bullpen filled with desks and busy cops. They rounded a corner and took only a few more steps to arrive at a doorway. Then Clyde stepped aside and gestured him into the room. Ian opened the door with little fanfare, and found Lauren in the far corner, Declan curled up on her lap. He was getting a bit big to be doing that, but Lauren didn't seem to mind. She smiled when she saw him, and Ian felt the smallest bit of relief at seeing it.

"So, you're helping the cops now?" She asked.

He walked over to her, sat in one of the chairs and moved close to her. "This man, Flynn, he hurts children. I've let it go on too long, it's time to stop it."

"They told me." She reached out a hand then, and squeezed his when he offered it. "I'm proud of you. Surprised, but proud."

"Then why won't you come with us, Lauren?"

She looked down at Declan, then up again. "I just can't, Ian."

"That isn't a reason. I can't let you leave us without a reason," he said. When she didn't speak, he tried to offer one. "Are you afraid to go back to the States? Is someone looking for you there? Because, if that's it we can fix it, I swear."

"No, it's nothing like that."

"Then what? Tell me, and we can figure it out."

She shook her head. "I don't want a new identity. I don't want to uproot my life, and start all over again."

"You wouldn't be alone, Lauren," he insisted. "You, me and Declan, we can make a new life together."

"That sounds really nice, Ian, but…do you think our relationship can survive that?" The look in her eyes said she wasn't so sure, and that felt like a knife to the gut.

"If I'd any doubts, I'd never have given you that ring." He point to the gimmel hanging on the gold chain around her neck.

"Well, I do have doubts," she said.

Ian kissed her fingers. "We'll have our share of problems, Lauren. Everyone does, but we'll get through 'em."

She bit her lip and sighed. "You aren't going to take no for an answer, are you?"

"No."

Lauren turned away, and seemed to zone out in thought for a few moments. When she turned back to face him, something was different about her. He couldn't place his finger on it, but something had changed, in her body language and her eyes, he could see the difference. "Ian, I need you to listen to me. I can not go with you. You have to accept that."

"I won't."

Jaw tight with tension, she began to nod, and pulled a cell phone that definitely wasn't hers from a pocket and sent a text message. After a few oppressively silent minutes, the two Interpol agents came in. The Brit looked annoyed, but waved a hand for her to continue.

Lauren inhaled. "I can't go with you, Ian, because I'm an undercover Interpol agent."

He'd never be certain which emotion rolled over him first. It felt like everything came and hit him all at once, like a tsunami wave crashing over his head, taking everything from him in its fury. Anger rushed through his body, leaving him hot and tense. Pain twisted in his stomach, like a knife digging around, finding new crevices to explore. Grief swarmed in his head, left him feeling fuzzy and unsure. Shock made his muscles seize, leaving him unable to move for several solid minutes.

When he finally did manage to speak, it was all but useless. "What?"

"When we started this, I didn't think much how it would affect you," she said. "Now though, I am sorry for hurting you." She sighed, and nodded toward the child still sleeping in her arms. "And for hurting Declan."

Suddenly realizing that it wasn't his beloved Lauren cradling his boy, but a conniving seductress who betrayed him, Ian felt his rage boil over every other feeling. He stood up so quickly, the chair went rolling backward, and yanked Declan from her arms. The boy woke with a whimper, looking around in confusion and panic. When he found his father's face, he seemed to relax a bit. Then he turned to look around and found Lauren. He held his arms out toward her and wiggled them. "Lauren."

"She's not Lauren, Declan."

The little boy shook his head, and pointed back at her. "I want Lauren."

"She's gone Declan. There's no more Lauren."

"But, I—"

"No!" Ian admonished. Declan's face grew red, and his lips quivered, as he looked between them. Then he began to cry.

Ian looked toward the Brit and Scotsman. "The house. We're ready to go."

He didn't wait for them to respond, and walked out of the conference and away from the woman that used to be Lauren. The woman who'd essentially taken his heart and blasted it to pieces with a shotgun. And broken his son's heart as well. The boy cried halfway to the house, and that's only because Ian wouldn't tolerate the tears any longer. Declan knew better. He was getting too old for hysterics.

Ian was further annoyed to find that Lauren—now he'd learned her name to be Emily—was staying in the house with them. He wasn't terribly surprised, but he hoped the glare he shot her was enough to tell her to keep the hell away from them. Getting Declan into pajamas and then bed had been a battle, and getting his thumb out of his mouth had been even worse. In the end, Doyle had to soothe him with the same Gaelic lullaby he'd used when Declan was a baby. It wasn't often that he'd put his infant son to bed, but the nights he did were some of the most peaceful of his life. He'd cradled baby Declan, and sang the lullaby his mother had taught him years ago. It had never failed, and tonight he found that it still worked.

With Declan asleep, Ian Doyle sunk heavily into the mattress, his elbows on his knees and head in his hands. His hopes for the future, his plans for getting through his mess, they'd all gone straight to hell with one sentence from her mouth. It was supposed to have been the two of them together. They'd lose everything they'd both worked for, they'd have to hide, but when it was safe, they'd leave witness protection and rebuild. They'd eventually reach a comprise with regards to parenting, and she'd become Declan's mother.

Now, he was alone to raise his boy and rebuild his business. It was stark and painful, and he missed her already.

The next morning, Emily took one of the rentals and drove to the airport early, having volunteered to check on everything with the pilots. It was an MI-6 jet, courtesy of some of Sean's contacts, who were evidently tickled at the idea of getting rid of their Ian Doyle problem. She just wanted to keep busy. She'd barely slept last night, her mind working at a slightly insane pace, and her body no longer accustomed to so much extra room in the bed. If she was completely honest with herself, it wasn't only her body that missed him.

Emily parked in the lot, chatted with the pilots, and gratefully hopped on the small jet. It had padded leather seats, couches, tables to eat at, a small kitchenette, and a bathroom that was a little bigger than that of your average commercial airliner. She parked herself at an open section of chairs that faced the front of the plane, and formed and 'L' with a sofa, and tossed her bag on the floor next to her. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally, and her nerves weren't fairing very well.

That may have been why her eyes started to drift shut. It was most certainly why she nearly jumped out of her skin when someone plopped into the seat next to her. Emily's eyes flew open, and her hand was on her weapon before she even processed the identity of her new companion.

"Tsia," she said with a sigh. The woman smiled, and Emily glanced over to see her partner-in-crime leaning on a chair across from them. "Hello, Jeremy."

"You've gotten a bit jumpy, haven't you Emily?" He asked.

"She's been undercover for over a year, she's allowed to be jumpy, Jeremy," Tsia shot back. They were always piping back and forth at each other, Emily considered it their own personal brand of flirting.

"Well, either way, it's good to see you in one piece."

Emily nodded. "Thanks. It's good to be me for a bit."

Tsia hugged her then, tightly, like she hadn't seen her in ages. They hadn't actually spoken or been within twenty feet of each other in over a year. "God, it's good to see you. You know it's rough being the only one on the team without a penis."

Jeremy scoffed. "Well, it's not as if we take them out and measure them."

"Really? Because there've been a few times when you and Sean nearly came to blows, and I thought that might happen. Of course, Clyde always managed to show up and glare you both into behaving."

"Exactly what did I miss?" Emily asked, eyeing her teammates.

They didn't get to answer. Feet sounded on the steps leading into the plane and they all turned to see their teammates and Doyle and Declan climbing into the airplane's cabin. Declan saw her, and ran around the guys toward her. "Lauren!"

Emily stood up, and caught him in her arms, hugging him tightly. Ian wasn't the only one who she'd missed.

"Declan," Ian called, voice gruff and unhappy.

"I love you," the little boy's voice was soft, and his words nearly broke her heart.

"I love you too, sweetie. But you better go back to your father." She turned him around, and sent him back to a glowering Ian.

He pulled Declan up to sit beside him, and turned away from her. But she still heard his admonishment to the boy. "Stay away from her."

When Emily turned away from them, she found her entire team shooting her the same look. Dubious mixed with 'what the hell are you thinking?' and 'what did you get yourself into'. "Not one word," she said. "Or you don't survive until we get to the states."

Sean held up empty hands in surrender and went to find a seat, while Clyde only rolled his eyes before he did the same. Tsia looked at Jeremy. "Scat," she said, "we need to have girl talk."

"Oh, no we don't. Stay Jeremy."

He chuckled. "I'm partnered with her more, she wins." He pointed to Tsia and walked away.

"Traitor," Emily mumbled under her breath.

Tsia smirked. "So, tell me what's been going on with the surprisingly sexy hunk of rugged Irishman."

"You always thought he was creepy in pictures."

"Well, up close, in person, and playing Daddy to a cute little boy, he's far less creepy."

"Yes, he is," Emily sighed.

Tsia was silent several seconds before saying, "A cute little boy who clearly thinks of you as Mommy."

"Please leave it alone, Tsia. I just can't do this right now."

Emily expected her to continue pressing, but instead her friend settled for giving her hand a comforting squeeze. "It isn't your fault, Em."

Sorry for the delay on this, I got a bit sidetracked with an unexpected project. Two notes. Yes, I basically described the BAU jet; I figure most private jets are fairly similar. The other thing, I think this might be the most dialogue Jeremy gets in a scene. It's hard to be objective and positive about him, when I know he sold his team out.

Thank you to everyone who read, and especially, to those who review!