Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.


In the large circle that the sole spotlight made on the stage, Simon Peter Wycombe stood with a gun raised to the head of his captive. The light off the shiny metal squares of the large star suspended in the air, revolving like a disco ball, reflected eerily on his face. There was no indication of the illness he had demonstrated the day before as his left arm was tight around the woman's neck as his wild eyes surveyed all before him.

Amidst the chaos all around him, standing in the middle of the town square, all Aaron Hotchner could see was Emily Prentiss. He could see that she was fighting to remain calm.

'Why would he want your agent?' asked the sweating sheriff.

Never taking his eyes from her, he answered. 'She's an Aquarian,' said Hotch softly.

'How the hell would he know that?' asked Ted Gilligan, mopping at his brow.

'I don't know,' responded Hotch. 'And I really don't plan to stick around and find out why.'

Removing his jacket, Hotch made a show of removing his gun and placing it on the ground. He called their unsub's attention to him, ignoring the calls of his teammates. He refused to sit back while they debated the pros and cons of what to do. Any other situation, and he'd be leading that discussion, but this wasn't any other situation.

This was Emily. And his child.

He could see Simon Peter noting his slow approach warily, but he stayed in the spotlight. 'I just want to talk,' he said conversationally, taking another careful step. He stopped moving in when Simon Peter raised the gun to Emily's temple. 'You come any closer and I'll shoot her.' Emily's hands clutched at her captor's arm as she struggled to breathe.

He stopped and kept his hands his hands raised. 'I won't come any closer,' he promised, relieved when the man loosened his grip on his woman. Holding still, he tried another tactic. 'What do you need her for?' he asked conversationally. 'How about if you let her go, you and I can have a chat. How does that sound?'

The man shook his head desperately. 'You can't have her. She's mine, not yours.' His voice dropped and Hotch strained to hear what he said. 'I need her.'

'What do you need her for?' he pressed.

His question startled the crazed man. 'I don't need her,' he said confused. 'Dad does. He needs twelve of them,' he babbled. 'Twelve sacrifices for the twelve signs.'

Hotch risked another step forward as Simon Peter turned his attention back to him. 'You can't take her from me. You can't. If you do, I'll... I'll... I'll kill her now. I swear.'

He willed himself to keep his eye on the unsub and off Emily. The less attention he drew to her, the better. 'You don't want to do that really, do you?' he asked carefully. 'Do you, Joshua?'

The man's body became rigid at the mention of his birth name. Without a care for his captive, he marched to the edge of the stage. 'You know nothing about Joshua,' he shouted as Emily struggled for even footing once again. 'Nothing! You know nothing of what he went through.'

'You're right,' agreed Hotch. 'I get it. You hate your father.'

Simon Peter Wycombe – nee Joshua Marcus Noonan – was breathing heavily from his precarious perch on the edge, but he remained silent. Hotch risked another step forward. What he was going to do next was a risk, and he prayed to whichever God was currently on duty that it would work.

'Simon,' he called, making sure to use his new name, 'I'm asking you to not take away my chance to be a father.'

'What are you talking about?' responded the man, his head moving frantically as he looked around wildly.

Hoping that the form currently moving in the shadows at the back of the stage was who he thought it was, Hotch took a deep breath. 'She's pregnant with my child.'

Simon Peter went cold. 'Well, let's spare this child the misery of a father then, shall we?' The determined man pulled Emily back against him and moved back into the spotlight. About to leave the light on the other side, he raised his gun and levelled it on Hotch.

'Don't come after me.'


David Rossi moved silently.

From his position offstage, he could see the back of their unsub and the dark hair of Prentiss. The instant that Hotch had begun to engage with the unsub, he'd slipped from JJ and Imogen Wilder and headed for the back of the stage.

He had to hope that Aaron knew what he was doing, but he was safe in the knowledge that the team would back them up when the time came for it.

His friend's revelation that he was the father of Emily's child had been surprising, but he pushed the news off to the side, focusing on the situation at hand. Whilst making such as statement, and laying a claim on the person he was holding captive, was risky, the unsub was most certainly reacting.

For all his threats of suffering, it was clear that Hotch's words had rattled him.

Rossi ducked further into the shadows as Simon Peter marched by him for the back of the stage. He knew there was a risk that the unsub would start shooting wildly at anyone if he was approached at the wrong moment. Seeing him heading for the ladder at the back of the stage, Rossi took a careful step forward. His foot landed on a small glass star, shattering it.

Crack!

Simon Peter flew around at the loud noise, his captive in front of him once again. His gun left Emily's head and shook as he tried to focus it on Rossi. The older man's grip never wavered as his eyes found Emily's.

'Duck,' he mouthed to her. She reacted immediately and planted the heel of her shoe into the unsub's foot. As the man jerked and howled at the pain, Emily dropped the instant his grip on her loosened.

Rossi's shot hit Simon Peter in the shoulder, but it made no difference.

The crazed man threw his gun off to the side and grabbed the bottom rung of the ladder. He left a blood trail as he leaped up the rungs.

Rossi dashed over to his pregnant colleague, but she waved him on. 'I'm fine, go catch him.' He saw Aaron vaulting the front of the stage and dashed for the stairs.

Reaching the top, he saw Simon Peter walking along the struts for lights and other assorted props without a care in the world. Following at a much slower pace, the distance to fall at the forefront of his mind, Rossi gripped all available holds. 'I'm too old for this shit.'

Reaching the thick beam that ran the length of the front of the stage, he could see Morgan, JJ and the newly arrived Reid on the town square below, guns following the man who now stood front and centre looking out over the town. Morgan was talking, but their unsub wasn't in the mood for listening.

Instead, he began to rip of his clothes, not caring that with each movement, his balance on the beam became more precarious. As the clothes floated down, Rossi could hear the girl he'd spent the worst part of the last two hours watching crying and screaming hysterically.

Disregarding his own safety, Rossi began to make his way over to the stark naked man. He had a feeling that he was about to do something very stupid.

Sure enough, Simon Peter looked up at the stars and stretched his arms wide open. 'Look at me Dad!' he shouted. 'Starlight!'

Rossi lunged but it was too late. The angry son of Starlight's founder fell over the edge.

In a sickening twist, the huge revolving disco star pierced the body that fell in the air. The metal and human combination swung before the weight became too much. The attachment snapped and the star dropped.

Falling to the stage below, it smashed mere inches from Hotch and Emily.

At the sight, Emily promptly turned and threw up on the bottom of Imogen Wilder's dress.


Later that night, JJ shook her head as she looked at a number of her teammates around the table. 'The small-town mentality just never goes away,' she complained.

Reid shrugged his shoulders. 'I guess they're hoping the fact that they had a murderer in their midst will just go away.'

'Did you know that they're actually going to order a DNA test to see if Simon Peter, or Joshua, or whatever his bloody name is, is actually the son of Peter Noonan?' asked JJ incredulously.

'God forbid if their precious founder's name should be tarnished unnecessarily,' muttered Rossi as Morgan snorted.

Emily caught the end of the conversation as she made her way over. 'Hi guys.'

'Emily!' they clamoured. 'How is everything?' 'Are you okay?' 'Are you both okay?' The last question came from Reid.

'I'm fine,' she reassured them, easing carefully into the chair, some muscles sore. 'We're both fine.'

Placing her water bottle on the table, she saw all eyes still on her. There was a sense of lightness amongst them, a welcome relief to the darkness of the events just past. 'So Hotch huh?' said JJ, leaning in toward her friend.

'I thought you were all a crack team of profilers,' teased Emily as she rubbed her swell. Morgan in particular laughed outright at that.

'What?' asked Reid in confusion. The explanation for the young genius had to wait a little longer as Aaron Hotchner arrived. He ignored the rest of the team, his eyes only for the dark haired woman. 'Emily,' he asked stiffly. 'A word?'

'Sure,' replied Emily slipping from her seat once again. She smiled in apology to her teammates as she allowed Hotch to escort her over to the other side of the room. She wasn't entirely sure what he had planned, but she was startled when the hand firmly on her back shifted and she was pulled back against his chest. His fingers twined together and rested on her bump as he pulled her tight to him. He burrowed his head into her neck as he released a shaky breath.

Oblivious to the stares and chatter at the table in the far corner, she covered his hands with her own, speaking softly. 'Near miss.'

'Too close,' replied the tense man darkly.

'I'm okay Aaron,' she reassured him, tracing one hand along his exposed lower arm. 'Baby Hotchner's okay too.'

'I'm not.'

Grinning at the short response, she tilted her head to look into his face. But her smile faded at the shuttered look on his face. He was thoroughly rattled. Not caring where she was and who was watching, she turned in his arms. His grip on her never lessened as she clasped his face and drew him in for a kiss.

She felt the desperation in his kiss as he responded.

'Why can't life be simple?' murmured Hotch when they parted, his eyes scanning her features.

'What fun would it be then?' she replied jovially, but there was a shaky quality to her tone.

Hotch raised one hand to brush hair from his partner's face. He looked into her eyes intently before he spoke. 'You have a meeting with Strauss next week.'

'Aaron...' she warned, easing back from him, but he refused to let her go.

'I don't care if you tell her about me or not,' he said, dismissing her response, 'but she needs to know you're pregnant.'

She released a heavy sigh. 'Fine. You're just lucky I l...' She never finished the sentence as Hotch's hand slipped to the nape of her neck and he covered her lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she deepened the kiss.

It was hard to miss Morgan's wolf whistle then.


Next chapter: Facing the Ice Queen.