The house that Desi had told Spencer to come to was on the outskirts of DC. He wasn't really surprised when he arrived to find that it was a large bit of property, private, secluded enough to have the privacy one would need when they're holding someone hostage. Tucked up on a hill, hidden by trees, Spencer looked over the place. It was easily a ten million dollar home, maybe more. Just the extravagant sort of thing that an idiot like Desi would buy. A voice in Spencer's head chuckled and pointed out that, under better circumstances, it was a home Remy would've enjoyed too.

The house itself was three stories. Four, if you counted the basement, which Spencer most definitely did. That, he knew, would be his best bet for where Remy would be being held at. In what little he'd been able to dig up on the place—done with just a smart phone and forty minute ride in the back of cab—had given him the general layout. Nowhere near enough to go on if this had been a professional job. But it wasn't. This was, by far and above, the single most important job he was ever going to go on. He had to do this right. If he was caught, if he messed up, it wasn't going to be jail time, and it wasn't going to be his life on the line, either.

So caught up in his plans, Spencer heard the sound almost a second too late. He didn't let himself stop and think, simply reacted on instinct, drawing his weapon and spinning around. The person who materialized from the shadows was the last person that Spencer had expected to see. It was a man, about three inches taller than him, with a fighter's build like Remy, slender and yet strong. He was almost impossible to see at first because he was clothed almost entirely in black. The only bit of his face that was visible was his eyes; he had a hood pulled low and a mask covering the bottom half of his face. He held up his hands in a sign of peace as he stepped out of the shadows. "Calm, M. LeBeau, I mean no harm." The man said. There was just a slight hint of the south to his voice. It was more the sound of someone who wasn't from there, but had lived there long enough to start picking up the sounds. Hearing that sound made Spencer pause, but it was the use of the name 'LeBeau' that really got him.

The man stopped a few feet in front of him, hands still held up peacefully. He moved one hand, and Spencer adjusted his aim in obvious warning. The guy said nothing, just grabbed his hood and pulled it back. Then he caught his muffler and pulled it down until his whole face could be seen. Spencer blew out a soft breath and lowered his gun. He recognized that face. The blond haired, blue eyed man was Rey, one of the Thieves that he'd met the other night. The one that seemed to be in charge of the group of Thieves that Jean-Luc had sent up. "It's Reid, not LeBeau." Spencer said with a sigh. "What are you doing here, Rey?"

"I saw you leave the hospital and followed you here."

"Great. Just, great."

"Don't worry; no one else saw us. I kept your trail clear. I'm assuming that this Desi called you and set this up?"

There was no point in denying anything. Rey had followed him here and the man wasn't just going to leave. He was loyal to Remy, Spencer knew. The head of Remy's personal guard back home, a talented thief who, Belle had told him, would probably one day lead Remy's guard when Remy took over as Guildmaster. There wasn't any real chance that the Thief was going to leave just because Spencer ordered him to. He didn't need to waste time arguing with him about it either. "Yes, Desi set up a meeting, which he requested I come to alone, so I need you to keep from being seen."

"Absolutely." Rey agreed immediately.

"I'm not going to force you to stay behind and I'm not going to force you to come with me." Spencer told him. "But we're going to do things my way. So, you get two choices here. You can come with me, on the condition that you do exactly as I tell you, when I tell you, and that includes once we reach Remy." He tacked on that last bit quickly, wanting to make absolutely sure it was understood. "He may be your boss, but if you come in with me, you listen to me, not him."

In a sign of good intelligence, Rey didn't immediately agree, but instead arched one eyebrow and said "Or?"

Spencer raised his gun again, taking aim at the man's thigh. "Or I shoot you in the leg and you wait here until help arrives. I'll leave you something with which to apply pressure, so you won't bleed out before the ambulance arrives. Painful, but you'll be alive, and you'll heal well."

He could see that he'd surprised Rey with his threat. He could also see something else that looked like respect on his face. The Thief clenched his right hand into a fist and pressed it against his heart before bowing lightly to Spencer. It was a sign of great respect, a sign usually given to a leader, not to the random husband of a soon-to-be Guildmaster. Spencer knew what kind of respect he was being shown here and he didn't treat it lightly. Rey may be coming in to help him of his own free will, but by taking him on, by agreeing to let him come and putting himself in charge, Spencer had just accepted the responsibility for this man. For keeping him safe and getting him out alive. It'd been a long time since he was in charge of anything like that. Trying to push back his unease at being in this position again, he lowered his weapon once more, this time holstering it at his side. "All right. Let's get this figured out and get Remy home, then."

Rey straightened up from his bow and nodded. He moved up to Spencer's side and stood so that he, too, could view the house ahead.

Standing there, Spencer laid out the plan that he'd built so far, adjusting it accordingly as he spoke to accommodate the new person in the mix. It made a few things simpler and a few options available that wouldn't have been before. He was pleased when Rey didn't just accept his words at face value, or dismiss them outright. The Thief listened, nodding here and there, and offering a suggestion or two. By the time they had their plan laid out, the two were both much more relaxed than before. They shared a soft smile, nodding at each in silent understanding, bonded in that moment under a joint cause.

Spencer shed the sweater and baseball cap before they went anywhere. He adjusted his gun too, making sure it was secure to his hip. Then he cast a curious and hopeful look Rey's direction. "You wouldn't happen to have a ponytail, would you?"

In lieu of words, Rey simply pulled a leather strip from his pocket. He didn't hand it over, though, but moved to stand behind Spencer, gathering his hair up with quick, agile fingers. "I've done this for Remy many times." The Thief told him when he felt Spencer tense.

A little embarrassed at having someone braid his hair for him, Spencer flushed and stammered out his thanks. "Well, um, thank you."

"Mm. Of course." Rey said. His fingers moved nimbly through Spencer's hair, braiding quickly and efficiently. He was almost done when he suddenly said "May I ask a question?"

"Go ahead."

There was only a small hesitation before Rey asked his question. "Would you really have shot me?"

Oh, that. Flushing a little more, and blessing the dark, Spencer gave a small shake of his head. "Absolutely not." Sneaking a look up as Rey tied off the end of his braid, he flashed a brief smile. "But you thought I would and that was all that mattered."

Laughter flashed in Rey's blue eyes. "Remy said you were a sneaky one."

"Let's see just how sneaky we can be." They were ready. Time to get this show on the road. Spencer drew in a deep breath and sought that inner calm that Remy had taught him to find all those years ago. That place inside that helped shut off all the worries and fears and allowed you to focus totally on the job ahead. When he opened his eyes again, Spencer smiled. "Let's go bring Remy home."

Getting into the house took some skills that Spencer hadn't used for a long time. While he was in charge of this little mission, he had no qualms about letting Rey come to the front and help direct them in. The Thief was good at what he did and he had a ton more experience than Spencer did. The two had no trouble using the trees and other foliage to slip up to the side of the house near what Spencer's research had told him was the servants' quarters. There, he ceded the lead over to Rey, and within moments the Thief had them inside.

Now, these quarters or the basement were their best bet on finding Remy. Spencer was betting on the basement but that didn't mean that he was going to just ignore these quarters as they passed through them. He and Rey moved quickly and carefully down the hall, testing and checking doors, listening for any sounds of life. They stopped at one hall, just barely catching sight of a camera before it would've caught them. The camera was guarding the entrance to the basement—the only entrance. There were windows down in the basement, but getting in or out a window would set off an alarm, he was sure of that. He didn't have to know the specs of Desi's alarm system to know he'd have sensors on his windows, especially around wherever Remy was being held. It had all been factored in to Spencer's plan, even if Spencer hadn't quite shared all those details with Rey. There was a reason he'd gotten Rey's promise to obey anything he told him to do.

A hand gesture showed Rey what Spencer wanted him to do. Getting a short nod in return, he braced himself and prepared to move. As soon as they got in front of that camera, they'd be on the clock.

At Spencer's silent signal, they moved.

It took them only fifteen seconds to emerge into the hall and get through the basement door. The fact that the door wasn't locked was worrisome but not something that Spencer hadn't anticipated. He knew what it meant and was already prepared to handle it. They shut the door behind themselves and Spencer left Rey to try and wedge the door shut, granting them just a little more time, while Spencer made his way down the stairs.

A whisper of movement off to the side, just a slight displacement of air, was all the warning he got. Instinct had him ducking down and just narrowly avoiding what would've been a solid blow to the head. He didn't let himself hesitate at all. Even as he went down low to avoid the hit, he was twisting and turning himself, leg snaking outwards in a quick sweep. His reaction surprised the guard and the man tumbled down. Spencer was moving, quick and light, remembering everything Remy had taught him about close-quarters fighting. "Y'r smaller dan most people, cher, an light, too. Y' aint gonna win in a fight of strength. So y' gotta use y'r size to y'r advantage, and y' gotta use y'r brain." That was what he did. He moved quickly, twisting past the guard's attempt at a hit, and in a flash he was up by his head with his gun out of its holster and pressed against the man's temple. No one had said he had to fight fair. The other guy wasn't firing, sure, but Spencer would use every advantage he had.

The guard froze underneath him at the first touch of the gun. Holding still, Spencer stared down at him, and he let all the anger and rage that he'd built up flash over his eyes, giving him a dangerous look. Then he asked one simple question "Where is he?"

With the dig of the gun into his temple, this guy obviously believed his life was at stake here, just as Spencer wanted. In a choice between giving up a prisoner that he probably hated guarding, and pissing off an employer that it would appear he held no serious loyalty to, or dying, the guard made the only choice. He lifted one hand and pointed down towards the far end of the room. "In there. But you aint gonna get far. They'll be on you before you can ever get outta here."

Without even bothering to answer, Spencer twisted his grip on the gun and, lighting fast, brought it up and slammed the butt of it back down, knocking the guy out. He was just pushing up to his feet as Rey came over to him. The Thief looked down at the unconscious guard and then up at Spencer, giving an approving nod. "I'll secure the guard." He promised.

That freed Spencer. He didn't wait another second; grabbing the key ring off the guards belt, he turned and darted towards the far end of the room, gun still held at the ready.

What he found when he broke into the room had him wanting to cry out.

Remy—his gorgeous, wonderful, amazing Remy. He was there, alive, and Spencer hadn't been able to completely stop the fear that he'd get here and find that Remy was dead, that Desi had killed him already, and seeing that it wasn't true, being able to actually see the rise and fall of the Cajun's chest, filled him with so much relief his legs almost gave out underneath him. At the same time, he wanted to scream, to cry, at what had been done to him. Remy was standing against the wall of this little room that had been turned into some horror show of a cell. He was being held against the wall by solid looking metal shackles that were attached directly to the wall, without a chain. It pinned his wrists in place on either side of his head and, oh sweet God, there was one around his throat as well, a hard metal collar that kept his head firmly in place. How long had they kept him like this? How long had he been forced to stand here, to keep pressed against the wall this way? Had he been like this for the full month? The thought was devastating.

It was obvious his time here hadn't treated him well. His hair hung greasy and loose around his head, jagged uneven bits lying over his face. What little of his face that Spencer could see showed bruising around his eyes, his jaw, and a bloody split on his lip. The rest of his body wasn't any better. Clad only in jeans and a dirty tank, he was a mess of blood and bruises. Each one that Spencer saw only sent his guilt and anger higher and higher. Desi hadn't just kept him here. He'd hurt him. There was blood on Remy's wrists to show where he'd struggled against his bonds, blood staining part of his shirt and hell if Spencer wasn't terrified to find out what had caused that.

He'd been standing there staring for too long and he might've stayed there even longer if Remy hadn't suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse and biting, though his eyes never opened. "Y'r awfully quiet today. Enjoy staring at y'r handy work, y' connard?"

The sound of Remy's voice was like a punch right to Spencer's gut and he couldn't stop the pained sound he made.

Remy's eyes snapped open at that sound and they shot directly to Spencer, brighter and more coherent than he'd expected the injured Cajun to be. When they landed on him, they went wide with shock and Remy's mouth actually dropped open. "Bon Dieu….Spencer?"

That was finally enough to get Spencer moving again. Hearing Remy say his name broke through the paralysis that had overcome him and had him darting forward. Every part of him wanted to cup Remy's face, to touch that skin and feel him, know that he really was alive. His whole body ached for it. But he had to settle for simply cupping one hand against Remy's cheek and leaning in, just briefly, to press their foreheads together, their noses brushing against one another. "Remy." He murmured, his voice a soft whisper between them.

"How…how'd y'…"

"Shh." Spencer murmured. As much as it pained him, he pulled back. They were on a time limit and he'd already wasted so much of that time. Lifting shaky hands, he tried to force them steady as he sifted through the key ring to try and find the key that would set his husband free. "We don't have a lot of time." Ah! There. That was the only key that looked small enough to fit these locks. Somewhere outside their room came the sounds of thuds and thumps, someone trying to get in through the blocked door, and it brought home just how little their time was. His hands were steadier now as he unhooked Remy's wrist. He winched sympathetically at the hiss Remy gave when the metal released. The bruised and bleeding flesh that was revealed underneath was enough to push his rage up a little higher.

He was unhooking Remy's neck next when Rey poked his head in the door. "They're almost through. Three and a half, tops."

"Rey?" Remy croaked. His throat was free now and he was leaning heavily on Spencer, a little more heavily than Spencer liked. It made him worry more. Shifting a knee to rest between Remy's, he allowed the man to rest against him and reached for his next wrist.

Rey flashed a quick grin at Remy, looking both relieved and pleased to see him. "Good to see you, boss-man." The teasing title brought a hint of a smile to Remy's lips.

A particularly loud thud sounded just as Spencer unhooked Remy's other wrist. He caught his husband as Remy's weight dropped down on him. With a little grunt of effort, Spencer held him up, but his eyes turned to Rey. "Did you find what we need?"

"Right outside the door." Rey said, all playfulness vanishing from his voice.

"Good." Turning back to Remy, Spencer lifted one hand and cupped the side of his face, tipping his head up. He couldn't help himself—he had to indulge, just a little. Just a brief rub of nose against nose, a light ghost of a kiss. There was so much he wanted to say right then, so many things that were aching to come out, and no time for any of it. Shivering, he drew back a little, met Remy's wide, confused eyes and tried to smile at him. "Be safe." He said softly. Then, before Remy could protest, Spencer was turning and he gestured to Rey, who immediately came forward. Remy's confusion grew as Rey helped brace him up, taking his weight from Spencer. "What're y' doing?" Remy demanded lowly, one hand trying and failing to grasp at Spencer's shirt.

Spencer took a breath and then met Rey's eyes. "Get him out of here."

The two ignored the raspy protests that fell from Remy's lips. Weak as he was, the Cajun couldn't put up any real fight as Rey practically carried him out of the room and over to a section of wall that housed the only window down here that might be big enough to get them out. "There'll be guards out there." Spencer reminded the Thief, speaking overtop Remy's continued protests. "He'll have backup."

Never stopping, Rey nodded. "Once we're out in open space, we'll handle them." To back up that point, he pulled something from his pocket and pressed it into Remy's hands; it was a deck of cards. Then he winked at Spencer. "Besides, so do I."

That drew a startled laugh from Spencer. He should've figured. Even if the other Thieves hadn't showed up with Rey, he should've figured they would at some point. "You might've mentioned that earlier. We could've used the help."

"They're doing good where they are."

There was another solid thud on the door. Whatever Rey had done wouldn't hold much longer. They'd be through any minute. Spencer and Rey both quickened their movements. The window was high up and with Remy injured the way he was, it was going to be tricky to get him up there. Rey broke the glass and was out the window first and then reached back in, arms outstretched for the Cajun. Just as Spencer was preparing to help lift Remy up, the man managed to make one of his hands move enough to weakly grab hold of Spencer's chin. Then he leaned in and gave Spencer a firm kiss that tasted of dirt, blood, sweat, and Remy. When they broke apart, Spencer gaped at him—they'd shared a kiss here and there when Remy had come to see him over the years when he'd be in the hospital, but never something so strong, so passionate, and never with that much lust to it—while Remy glared. "If y' get y'rself killed b'fore we get to have life-affirming sex, I'm gonna be pissed." He snarled.

Spencer let out a startled laugh. "I'll try to keep that in mind."

With a bit of grunts and groans and a lot of pain, he got Remy up to the window, and Rey did the rest, pulling him through. Not a moment too soon, either. Remy was still only halfway out when the door finally broke open.

Spencer lifted his gun and took aim, only to watch as Desi came alone down the stairs. Not a single guard came with him. Spencer arched an eyebrow at that but said nothing as Desi made his way towards him. The room was silent as the man stopped a good six feet away from Spencer. There were no more noises from behind him, telling Spencer that Remy was out the window, and there were no noises from upstairs, telling him that the guards weren't doing anything up there. Tipping his head a little, Spencer looked over the man he hadn't seen face to face in twelve years, a man who had tried his damndest to ruin his life all because of some deranged urge to own him. "Hello, Desi."

A wide smile stretched over Desi's face. "Hello, Spencer. It's a pleasure to see you again."

The scary part was, he looked like he meant it, too. Like he was honestly pleased to be standing in this dark basement with him. Like Spencer standing there glaring, pointing a gun at him was just no big deal.

"I can't exactly say the same." Adjusting his stance, Spencer snuck a look over towards the door again, then back to Desi. "You came down here alone?"

"My men have gone to join the others. They were waiting in the yard for your friends, I hope you know. We've been watching you from the minute you unlocked the door."

"I know." Spencer said. Amusement lit Desi's eyes. Seeing it, Spencer chuckled. "What? You think I didn't know? You knew I was coming, just as you knew I'd try something. Of course you were going to be watching out for me. But I knew you wouldn't stop me. That's too simple. You wanted to toy with me first. Play your little game. You let me come down here, let me think that I'd won, because that would make your subsequent victory all the sweeter. Am I right?"

Desi lifted his hands and gave Spencer a slow clap. "Well done, my dear. Well done. You are as bright as I remembered."

"But you miscalculated on a few things, Desi."

"Is that so?"

"You came down here without your guards. That was your first mistake."

The man let out another of those low laughs of his, the ones that sent a shiver down Spencer's spine, and not the good kind. "Why? You will not hurt me. And my men were so looking forward to bringing back their favorite guest."

A spark of rage flashed through Spencer. He had to remind himself that he hadn't heard any sounds of trouble through the window and that Rey would make sure Remy was safe. He had backup out there. Backup that Spencer hadn't even known about. He had to believe that they would be okay. But listening to Desi casually make his threats… "That was your second mistake."

"What?" Desi asked, looking at him curiously.

"Assuming I'm not a threat."

The horror of this past month flashed through Spencer's mind, the pain and the anger, the fear, the gut-wrenching terror of it all. Images of that package he'd received, of what Remy had looked like when he'd found him in here, of the pain written all over him, and the solid weight of their rings resting against his chest. All of that flashed through Spencer's mind. Without a single qualm, he lowered his hand and pulled the trigger, sending the bullet ripping through Desi's thigh. In later days, it would worry him to remember just how much pleasure he got out of watching the man go down, hearing him scream as he clutched at the wound in his leg. At the time, he was too busy enjoying it, thinking that this was nothing compared to what he had been able to see had been done to Remy.

Moving forward, Spencer stopped just a foot away, and he adjusted his aim once more until it was pointing right at Desi's head. He waited for the pained sounds to die down before he spoke. "You took away the single most important person in my world, Desi. You took him and you hurt him. Just because you seem to think, for some reason, that you own me. That I'm yours. That was your biggest mistake—taking him. I will do anything, anything, to protect those I love."

"You are mine!" Desi spat at him. He was clutching his leg, staring up at Spencer with a stunned look on his face, like he still couldn't quite believe that Spencer had actually shot him. "He's just got you blinded with that power of his! If it wasn't for that Cajun bastard, we could be together. I could give you such a better life!"

"All of the money in the world couldn't make me want to be with you. I'm not yours, Desi, and I never was. I'm his. I always have been and I always will be. And you hurt him." The threat in Spencer's voice was obvious there, his fury leaking through.

Desi's eyes widened just slightly before he got himself under control once more. The dynamic here had shifted so much from what he'd planned. This was nothing like what he thought it would be. "You can't kill me. You're a federal agent."

"I'm not here as an agent."

It was true. He wasn't here as SSA Reid. Hence why he'd come without his team. A team which, if his calculations were right, would be here soon. It wouldn't have taken long for Penelope to track his phone once they realized he was gone. The team would follow. It was why he'd left his phone on, after all. But he needed this done before they got here.

Some of his thoughts must've showed on his face because Desi abruptly switched tones, his voice turning pleading. "Come, Spencer. Think about this."

"I have thought about this." Spencer said softly. "Since the minute I found out you were behind all of this, I've been thinking about this very moment in the back of my mind. Building scenarios, trying to figure out how things would go, what would happen. If I let them take you to jail, would you even be prosecuted? Would you even see the inside of a cell? If I let you walk, how long would it take before you tried again? I thought this out in every way possible. And do you know what conclusion I came to?" Spencer tipped his head just slightly to the side and shifted his stance, raising his gun once more. "Short of killing you, there is absolutely nothing stopping you from coming back and trying this again. And next time, what's to stop you from trying to hurt someone else I love? My mother, my friends, my Godson? I can't let that happen. I won't."

"You won't make it out of here alive."

"I'll take my chances."