A/N: WHOOOO 2 Chapters 2 Days in a ROW? Madness right? :D

Emily sat down, cup of black triple espresso in her hand, and began to wait. Her mother was notorious for being late to everything. Meetings, weddings, parties, hell the woman would probably be late to her own funeral. Emily picked at her fingernails looking out the window to the drizzly humid day in Manhattan. She missed her kids terribly, she hadn't been away from them for more than a few hours since the day they'd been born. She never thought she'd miss the day when all she wanted was to be back in Indiana. Playing with Landen and Lauren on a blanket in the backyard, or throwing a football to Declan, or sitting on the porch swing with Ian watching the sun go down.

She was about to give up and go home, thinking her mother's flight had been delayed, or something had come up and she hadn't been able to leave Italy, when a tall man wearing a suit and shiny black hair strode in. Emily's heart began to race.

Hotch.

What the fuck was he doing here, in Manhattan? How did he know where she was? More importantly, did he know where she'd come from? The latter was unlikely. When she'd left Indiana she had gone completely out of her way to come up from the south and hugged the east coast. It had taken 2 days of extra driving, but she could never be too cautious, and thank god she had.

Hotch walked over to her table and she held her breath. She was scared, uncertain of what would happen, if her family that she'd finally become comfortable with would be torn to shreds.

"Emily." Was all he said.

"Hotch," she answered coolly.

"How are you?" He asked with an expression, cold as ice.

She gave a wry smile, "How about we cut the bullshit and you tell me what the hell you're doing here?"

"Fine. We've been unofficially tracking your mother, looking to see if you'd contacted her or seen her. We saw she was making an unofficial, sudden, unplanned trip to Manhattan, completely out of the blue. We thought she might be meeting you. We were right." He said flatly.

"Ohh, that's really interesting. Well I'll be sure to let her know she's being stalked by the BAU and I'm sure she knows someone up in the hierarchy that will put a stop to your god-complex." Emily said snidely.

"Emily, where is Ian?"

"Ian is dead." She said monotone.

"Emily, I can't help you if you won't cooperate." Hotch said warningly.

"Help me? Looks like you're the one who needs help. You can't find a dead man."

"Emily, you and I both know that is a lie. Ian is not dead, he never was. I can help you though, if you tell us where he is, I can make sure that you don't go to prison, that you get to keep custody of all three children, including Declan. But I can't do any of that without your help." Hotch said.

Emily sucked in a breath as she pretended to take a drink of espresso. Her heart gave a hurtful pang when he mentioned her babies.

"I won't turn in the father of my kids, Hotch. You're out of your mind to think I would." She said sharply.

"Emily, look at what he's done! Do you remember the Fagan's? Jeremy and Tsia? Sean McAllister? Samuel Cosenza, the child he murdered in cold blood?" Hotch said angrily.

Emily bit her lip. Yes, she remembered, of course she did. Those deaths were caused because of her. Because of the lie that she'd manufactured to keep Declan from his father. Ian had a mental break when the North Korean's had showed him those photos of his dead son, with her as the murderer. She might as well have pulled the trigger herself, and she would never forget that. Not that Ian hadn't done some horrible things in his life, no, she didn't deny that. But—she interrupted her own thoughts.

"You don't know him like I do." She said defensively.

"While you're sitting there trying to justify what he's done, consider what he's done to you. He beat you to within an inch of your life. He stabbed you, and left you for dead, Emily. He doesn't care about you. He never did."

Emily again looked out the window. Again her thoughts were interrupted.

"Emily, don't you have any self-respect? Any glimmer of morality? Why would you stay with him, why keep his ring for 8 years? Why lie—"

"Because I love him, goddamit!" She yelled. The words came out of her mouth before she even had thought them. Word vomit. She paused looking around, nobody was paying much attention to them. She got a fluttery feeling in her stomach. She loved him. Love was insanity, irrational. Deep down no matter how she'd tried to move on, bury her clouded judgment and murky feelings for Ian, she'd never been able to. That's why she'd never gotten rid of his ring until she'd had no choice. It sounded insane and even more so when she'd said it out loud.

"Hotch, listen to me. Love makes people do crazy things, things they would never in a million years do otherwise. What if Foyet had taken Jack and then sent you pictures of him being shot to death. Your innocent, precious, beautiful son. What would you do? You would do everything in your physical power to get to Foyet, no matter who you had to go through to get to him. Ian was IN that position. We all had your back when you killed Foyet, you beat him to death with your own two hands. We all stood by you, because we knew you'd done what was necessary to avenge and protect your family."

"He killed my wife, Emily!" Hotch yelled, face contorted in misery at the mention of Jack and Haley. "Don't you dare compare me to that son of a bitch!"

"I'm not comparing you. I'm stating the facts. You did what you had to, you had a lapse in mental capacity and we ALL had your back." Emily said. "Hotch, I've never been one to make threats, but I won't let you destroy my family. And you can take that to the damn bank."

"Emily, I swear to god, if you don't tell me where Doyle is, I will arrest you for obstruction of justice in a federal investigation." Hotch said, fuming internally.

Emily laughed. "What investigation? Hotch, there is no investigation, this is a personal vendetta. To the government, Ian never had a twin. Ian Doyle was shot on that tarmac by his crazy ex girlfriend. Ian Doyle is dead." She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms in front of her. Looking and feeling quite superior, in her control of her emotions; while Hotch was slowly and quietly losing it. She gave a smug smile as he abruptly stood up and without another word walked out of the coffee shop, door slamming behind him.

A/N: TBC!