A/N: You know those times where you stress over writing something for a couple of weeks and then in under a day it goes from like 300 words about 3.5k+ words without your noticing? Or is that just a me thing? Anyway, it was so hard to time things right...never again will I try to make 3 different things happen at about the same time and converge. Yeah, I say that now... It's late, I'm tired, and I'm hoping I wasn't too delirious when I wrote the end. I just figured you guys have waited long enough...so here you go :)

Natalie shrieked as the door strained under the stranger's assault on the other side of it, and stumbled backward as she desperately looked around in vain for some avenue of escape. The window, but would the door hold up long enough for her to get clear of it? She was scared to risk it.

THUMP!

She realized she was on the verge of hyperventilating and forced herself to slow down. She needed help.

THUMP!

She patted her empty, perfectly flat pockets. No cell. Frantic blue eyes landed on the nightstand and filled with relieved tears.

THUMP!

She couldn't let him get into the room. She had to buy time. Desperation drove out any feels of chipped nails as she started pushing and shoving the dresser along the carpeted floor. Her heels were making her clumsy, slowing her down, and she kicked them off. As the thumping continued, she managed to position the dresser, both nightstands, the armchair that was in the corner, and a floor lamp in front of the door. It was the floor lamp that made her realize that, at that point, she was either good. On that note, she lunged for the phone, which was, by then, sitting on the bed, and dialed 9-1-1. "Please…please…I need help! There's a man in the house and his trying to get in the room and…and…I don't hear him anymore."

On the other side of the door, Kirby Zimmerman had come to the conclusion that he wasn't getting through the door. This wasn't how the hit was supposed to go down. He was supposed to be in the house waiting for the right moment to pounce when she got home, but instead she'd beaten him there. Now he had to end it fast and get out of dodge.

A quick jog brought him to the rear end of the non-descript black sedan he'd left parked across the street. He popped the trunk, pulled out the false bottom, grabbed the modified Uzi that was revealed.

He'd been trying for subtlety, but he knew the end justified the means as far as Emily was concerned. Even if this did manage to blowback on her, which was unlikely since she'd be well on her way to Ireland by the time they even realized that somebody else had taken her place behind bars, he had her back. He always had, ever since her mom became his foster mother.

Andrea's cry of "Bomb!" was immediately followed by Greg and Ed's overlapping orders for everyone to fall back. Their voices were drowned out by an explosion as the house went up like a Roman candle. Greg automatically flinched back, but it was horror, not fear that widened his eyes. "Team, status," he barked, overcompensating for the shakiness he was trying to keep out of his voice. Raf and Ed checked in immediately. "Andrea? Sam?" he prompted, watching Ed and Raf make their way around to the back of the house to investigate. "Spike, get EMS here, now! Spike?" he prompted when he didn't receive an acknowledgement of his order. Greg yanked the van door open and found Spike sitting inside, haunted eyes staring into some place that only existed in his head.

"Boss, Sam's down. I think the blast knocked him back," Ed reported.

"And Andrea?" Greg asked grimly.

"Didn't make it out," Raf reported solemnly.

Greg was silent for a moment during which he internally battled the duel threats of self-doubt and grief. Then he stepped back into his role as sergeant. "Spike…hey, buddy, you with me?"

A shudder. A slow blink. A quick nod. "Yeah, boss. I'm here. EMS. Backup. On it."

Greg nodded. He knew the younger man was badly shaken, but he had faith in every one of his team members that they could push beyond any kind of adversity and do their jobs. There would be plenty of time to lick their collective wounds later. "We need a lead on that baby. There might not have been shots fired, but somebody was here today that shouldn't have been and I want to know what people saw." People usually noticed when things were out of place, even if they didn't always recognize the significance of it on their own.

"'m okay," Sam grunted finally. "I just had the wind knocked outta me a little."

"Still getting checked out," Greg responded authoritatively, even though he was just relieved to hear the ex-solder's voice. "Another team will probably be here to relieve us in…"

"Winnie, come again? What's going on?" Spike asked, frowning.

"Hang on," Greg said before switching channels so he could hear both sides of Spike's conversation with Winnie.

"—it's a mess here," Winnie was saying. "I was right about to tell you I think Guns and Gangs located your missing kid. According to Detective Lane, Emily Ames is somehow out of prison and just gained possession of the infant. I've already got Team Four mobilizing for that so I need to recall another team."

"Winnie, I thought Team Three was on deck?" Greg asked, startling Spike.

Winnie didn't miss a beat. "Workplace shooting. Hang on I have another call coming in."

"Leave the mic on," Greg requested, frowning.

She did as requested without asking why and Greg and Spike listened as a 9-1-1 operator reeled off the details of a home invasion that was in-progress, including the address.

"That's Jules' place," Greg spoke the thought as it popped into his head. "The bomb wasn't a killer trying to cover his tracks, it was a trap," he realized.

"Winnie, patch us in now," Spike requested urgently. He had a feeling it was another call related to the one they were on right now.

"…I don't know what he's doing out there," Natalie was crying. "I barricaded the door—

"Nat?" Spike broke in, shell-shocked.

"Spike," Greg muttered warningly.

"Spike!" Natalie exclaimed. "Help, I don't know what to do! I'm so scared!"

The understatement tore at his heart. To hell with protocol. "Just sit tight, we're on our way."

Greg placed his hand on Spike's shoulder, indicating he wanted to take over. "Natalie, this is Greg Parker, how many people are in the house?" he asked as Spike switched back over to the channel that the rest of the team was still on to apprise them of the situation.

"I don't know, only saw o—one and panicked, I'm sorry—

"No, no, Sweetheart, you did great. You did the right thing making sure nobody could get in the room. What room are you in?"

"The, uh, the master bedroom."

Ed stuck his head in the door. "Boss, we got a couple of unis here, they're gonna keep the scene contained. Let's roll."

"I wanna go, too," Spike insisted.

Greg covered his mic with his hand. "Spike…"

"We don't have time to argue over this, please," Spike pleaded.

"I'll take over in here," Raf offered, replacing Ed in the doorway. They could all hear an engine roaring to life outside, indicating that Ed hadn't wasted time arguing with Sam.

"All right, Raf? I want to know where Jules is right now."

"Already on it, Sarge," Raf responded as he took Spike's place.

Greg spoke into the mic as he and Spike climbed into an SUV. "Natalie, we'll be there in three minutes, can you do me a favor? Get on the floor and stay—" he broke off when he heard a rapid spat of gunfire on the other end of the line followed by a dial tone.

"What's the ETA on my team?" Jules asked uneasily as she and Roy kept watch on the house currently occupied by two dangerous criminals (Roy had identified the other as Dane Bernthol), that they knew of, and a baby. She had the distinct feeling that things were about to go down fast, and was concerned about the danger that could pose to the baby.

Roy raised an eyebrow at her slip-up. "SRU's a little backed up. They had to call another team in."

Frowning, Jules was shaking her head before he finished. "That's going to take too long, we need to get the baby out of the house. I want to call in."

"You want to start negotiating?"

"I already have a history with one of the subjects."

"She shot you."

"Really? Huh. Must've slipped my mind…" She added an eye roll for good measure.

"Bernthol's cell's on file," Roy said, flipping through the gang file.

"See where they're at in locating the father," Jules dictated as she dialed the number and waited for the man to answer. As soon as he picked up, she said, "Hi, this is Jules Callaghan with the spe—with the Toronto Police Service," she caught herself. "Am I speaking to Dane Bernthol? Dane? You there? If you don't want to talk to me, that's fine. Can I speak to Emily Ames? I'd really like to know how that baby's doing…" No responses to any of her inquiries, but she saw a flutter at one of the downstairs windows and pointed it out to Roy. "I really just want to talk. Make sure everything's okay."

Roy nudged her before filling her in on the reported shooting. She gave him an 'Aw, come on!' look before continuing to try and establish contact. "You wanna tell me what happened to Henry today? About why he—

"That bastard took my baby." It was Emily's voice that finally came over the line. "What did you do with Kirby?" she demanded.

"Kirby?"

"Zimmerman," Roy quietly deduced.

Jules nodded to show she understood.

"You made him lie just now, didn't you? Where is he?"

"Why do you think I made him lie to you, Emily? What about?"

"He said you were dead," the bitter woman spat.

That statement gave Jules pause seeing as it clearly wasn't true. Her phone beeped in her ear, signifying an incoming call, and she pulled it away from her ear to look at the screen. She frowned at the ID and showed Roy, gesturing for him to call the number. "Emily, how's the baby doing? Is he okay?"

"It's none of your business."

"It's just that I'm really concerned, is all," Jules gently insisted.

"Yeah, you're good at that, aren't you? Pretending to be concerned. Like all you want is for everyone to be okay no matter want."

"Yeah, she's right here, she's fine," Roy was saying. "She's in the middle of a negotiation right now, though, so…whoa, wait, is Ed okay?"

Jules slid her hand over the mouthpiece. "What?"

"There was a bomb at Henry Frank's place. They think it was a trap for the team. Raf said the new girl got caught in the explosion. Everybody else got lucky…"

When he hesitated, she prompted him. "What else?"

"They're responding to a home invasion at your place."

Her heart dropped into her stomach, and then kept falling. "Natalie's there."

"Jules…"

"Zimmerman told her I was dead."

"There were shots fired," Roy confirmed. "He must've just called…they'll get 'im," he assured her, knowing it probably didn't comfort her much. He needed her to focus and finish what she'd started, though. "You okay? You know you gotta…"

"I know," Jules whispered. "Emily? I know you feel like I let you down and I am so sorry for that. I'm sorry you don't feel like I care about what happens to you. But let's talk about what you've achieved today. Let's talk about the officer who died in an explosion you caused. The officer I'm willing to bet you didn't have anything against since she had nothing to do with what happened that day. Her name was Andrea. Or the young woman your friend just shot down…whose only crime was wanting to be a good sister by forcing a spa day that I didn't even want on me because she thought I needed a little pampering? Her name was Natalie." No response means she's listening, Jules reminded herself. She also reminded herself to take a breath. "How about that little boy in there? The one who might not have had the father you wanted him to have, but who did have one who loved him and who you took away from him. The one I'm betting you have within a foot of a gun. Do you know how much damage a bullet can do to an infant?"

"Jules…" Roy cautioned.

"I'd never let anyone hurt my baby!"

"You already have," Jules countered. "You killed his father and put him in a dangerous position. You, Kirby, Dane…none of you are just walking away from this. Two people are dead and you guys are going away for a long, long time if you give yourselves up…but I'm not so sure you'll go that route. I'm not so sure you won't try to run with the baby. I am sure that wherever you go, no matter where you hide, we will find you and we will take you in by force if necessary. I am sure I can't make any promises that your son won't be injured when whoever finds you, takes you down. That he won't be killed accidentally. I really, really don't think you want that to happen. In fact, I know you don't. You wanna know how I know? Because you wanted to badly for that baby in there to be safe, healthy, an propyl taken care of, that you got a paternity test instead of risking having an inaccurate family history on file. You had a husband who you loved, who loved you, and you were going to have the happy family you wanted so badly, and you gambled it all for the sake of that baby's wellbeing. Don't let that be for nothing, Emily. Don't hurt him anymore."

There was a long silence and Jules waited patiently for Emily to break it. Finally, she said brokenly, "I'm bringing him out."

"You're doing the right thing, Emily," Jules encouraged, clinging to her objectivity like a protective shield for the baby's sake. She disconnected while Roy checked his service revolver.

"You're doing good, Jules."

"I always do good, Roy," she cracked with a shadow of a smile as they got out of the car.

They waited beside the vehicle until Emily emerged from the house with the baby, then went to meet her halfway. She was just relinquishing the baby when a car came careening around the corner at breakneck speed.

Ed rattled off the license plate number of the sedan speeding away from the house to Winnie as Sam just waited for the SUV to slow enough for him to hop out of it. He saw the second-story window and everything Ed had drummed into his head about objectivity on the way over flew right out of his head. His sister was in there. The only sister he had left.

"Remember the Frank house?" Ed reminded Sam. "Wait for Spike so we can check…"

"He didn't have that kind of time," Sam snapped.

"We don't know that," Ed insisted. "Get up to the window, read the situation, and report back. Then wait for permission to enter. That's the plan. If you're not going to stick to it you can keep your ass in the car!"

They glared at each other as Ed coasted to a stop, then Sam got out of the car, which Ed took as his agreement or he would have stopped him.

Sam marched over to the house, climbed the few steps onto the porch (where the sight of the wide-open front door did nothing to dull the roaring in his ears), then climbed onto the railing and hoisted himself up onto the porch roof. He edged over to the window, heard nothing but glass crunching under his booted feet. It wasn't until he realized he couldn't even hear his own breathing that he realized he was holding his breath, but when he did realize, he wasn't inclined to exhale for the sake of doing so. He peeked inside, saw Natalie's still, tensed body on the floor, arms wrapped around her head, bare feet exposed, and closed his eyes. He knew he shouldn't blame himself. There was no way he could have known. But if he'd just…taken off work a day earlier. Not even gone into work. He could have been here. Could've made a difference.

And then whoever had paired up with Andrea might have moved just quick enough to have made it into the room before she'd accidentally set off the bomb. Something else he could have blamed on himself. But this was Natalie. She was…tensed "Nat? Natalie?" he opened his eyes. "Nat?"

"Sam? What's it looking like up there?"

"Sam?" Natalie's voice shook as she stirred slightly.

"She's alive. Just stunned, I think. Door's still barricaded shut. He fired through the wall but he didn't get in," Sam reported. "Nat? Nat I'm right here. Come on. Come to the window. Let me get you out of here."

While Sam coaxed his sister off the floor and out of the window, Ed updated Greg and Spike, who slumped in the passenger seat with relief. Those few short minutes when he thought he'd lost her had felt like the longest, and loneliest, of his life. Which was funny when one took into account the fact that a few years ago she wasn't even in his life. It just went to show that sometimes love, and the way it made you feel, wasn't always logical. Sometimes it just was.

"We're gonna stay on the shooter," Greg declared.

"I'll be right behind you," Ed responded as they passed the house.

Jules squeaked (which she felt mildly mortified about for all of, say, a nanosecond) when Roy tossed an arm around her middle and lifted her bodily off the ground before dashing onto the sidewalk out of the car's way. The baby she was clutching only grunted as though they were inconveniencing him.

"Kirby!" Emily shouted. "Dane? Hurry!" The other man came barreling out of the house as the sedan screeched to a halt a breath away from Emily.

"Hurry up, they're coming!"

After casting a last, longing glance at the baby, Emily got into the car, which took off again as a big black SUV sped after it.

"Think that was your guy or mine?" Roy asked.

"What I think is you better put me down before mine sees you," Jules retorted.

"Sorry," Roy said sheepishly, setting her down.

"S'okay. Right, Pal?" She tilted her head a little to look at the baby. "We're okay."

"I'm going to call the station. Again."

"I think they'll be happy to hear from you this time. Two Green Gang members behind bars, maybe more after they lean on 'em and search the house…" Her grin faded as humor gave way to melancholy as another SUV sped by. "I gotta call Sam."

"Not if he's on the move."

"No…" Jules said thoughtfully. "There were two in the first SUV and I clearly made out Ed in the second one. They left him behind," she determined. "Why would they leave him behind?" She posed the question more to herself. She called Raf to check just because she already knew he was free to chit chat. "Where are you?" she asked.

"Command post at the Frank house…why?"

"Where's Sam?"

"Your house with Natalie…why are you asking me?"

"Because nobody tells me anything, damn it!"

"Uh…okay, then…I apologize. It's been a hectic…what? Ten minutes? Tell you what, from now on, I will stick strictly to the every other 60 seconds update. No…really. I swear. Scout's honor."

"Ah, shut up… Nat's really okay?"

"She's really okay. Well, in shock. Maybe a little rug burn. A few knick from shrapnel. Sounds like your bedroom took a harder hit than she did."

"Good. I can fix a bedroom. Talk to you in t-minus two minutes." She ended the call on his chuckle.

"Zimmerman screwed up?"

"Zimmerman screwed up," Jules confirmed. "Oh, hey, when you, you know, finally get around to calling the station…you wanna tell them to send somebody from child services seeing as this little guy currently has no parents to speak of?"

"Sure."

"You wanna hang out with the kid while I go home and hug my sister?"

"Sure…?"

"You're awesome…" She handed him the baby and managed, from years of experience with some ridiculous cases here and there, not to laugh at his clueless expression. "Roy, you've got a niece and a nephew."

"You say that like Ed trusted me to hold either of them for more than five minutes without dropping 'em."

"Did you?"

"Drop either of them? No."

"Well okay then, we're all good. You can get a ride back to the station, right?"

"It's my car…"

"Oh. Right." She shrugged. "Was that a yes or a no? Ah, never mind, I'll be back." She slid behind the wheel and found the keys still in the ignition. After adjusting the seat to better suit her height, she headed off in the direction the speeding cars had just come from. In comparison, she felt like some slow grandma when she was really going the limit.

It wasn't until she pulled up and saw the flashing lights of squad cars and an EMS vehicle that it hit her that her house, her pride and joy, was a crime scene. It was supposed to be her tomb. It would've been if Emily Ames had her way… She suddenly hoped Emily's pal Zimmerman was as bad a driver as he was a marksman and they all ran into a brick wall.

She got out of the car and strode over to the back of the EMS truck to smile at Natalie, but then ended up frowning at Sam. "What the hell happened to you?"

Both Braddock siblings looked at her as if she had two heads.

"Didn't anybody tell you about the explosion?" Sam asked warily.

"Well, yeah, but it sounded like you were fine…"

"I am."

"You look like hell," she informed him bluntly.

"Gee, thanks…"

"How close?"

"Can we talk about this later?"

"That close, huh? Fine. Be a tough guy. Just don't whine about being sore at the wedding."

"I don't whine. Ever."

"Ever, huh? Remember when Mr. Hammer met Mr. Thumb?"

"That wasn't whining. That was… didn't we agree to never talk about that again?"

Jules shrugged and turned to Natalie. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I guess… You still want to have the wedding tomorrow?"

"Well…yeah. I mean…he could've died today. You could've died today. I could've died today…Wouldn't you rather we had a last name in common instead? I'm just sayin' it's a whole lot less melodramatic."

Natalie flung her arms around Jules' neck, nearly knocking her over. "I'm glad that man didn't kill you."

"Right back atcha," Jules replied, giving her a quick hug back.

"Can I get one of those?"

"Spike!" Natalie almost thrust Jules away in her rush to seize him. "Got 'em," he said, answering Sam and Jules' unspoken question.

"Score for Team One…" Jules said, pleased until she remembered that didn't include her anymore. "And…you know…Guns and Gangs." Yeah, she wasn't fooling anybody. She cleared her throat. "Um…sorry about Andrea, by the way…I should be getting back. Gotta return the wheels…write a statement… I'll call you later," she promised Sam, before turning on her heel and bumping into Greg. "Oh, hey, Sarge, how long've you been standing there?"

"Long enough…we miss you, too, you know."

"Yeah…I've really gotta go," she insisted before making her escape.

A/N: Yeah...Greg isn't letting that subject drop any time soon...and I am done typing tonight because the typos I've caught myself making have me going o.O