A/N: See, I haven't forgotten this one! As usual I got stuck on a chapter and started working on the more exciting ideas for later instead so I apologise for the delay but it'll work out in the long term (hopefully!). Anyway, thanks for reading, reviewing, following and favouriting. And I promise more frequent updates!

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This was it. Emily Prentiss had actually lost her mind. He stared, waiting for the punchline. Waiting for anything that would reassure him she was joking. Under cover operations, he was prepared for. He could have handled surveillance or even harbouring a fugitive. The way she'd set it up he was expecting something along those lines. Drugs. Guns. Danger. But taking care of a baby? Yes, she'd definitely gone crazy.

"Derek?" she questioned, looking worried. "Say something?"

"You want us to become foster carers so we can look after the baby?" he asked. He'd known she was getting overly attached and involved but for some reason he'd never thought she'd want to have direct responsibility for the child.

"Well... yes," she replied.

"But a baby..." he thought aloud. They hadn't even cleaned the bloodstains from their carpet yet and he was sure their fridge was more likely to contain beer than food the majority of the time. Not to mention the number of weapons in the house at any given time. Who in their right mind would let them have a baby?

"I'm not asking you to impregnate me, Derek," she responded with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. "It would only be temporary."

"But why?" he asked.

"I made a promise," she explained. "You said you trusted me."

He sighed, suddenly very much aware that the consequences of trusting Emily weren't to be taken lightly.

"How would we become foster carers quickly enough to protect the baby?" he asked.

She felt herself relax slightly - at least he seemed to be hearing her out on this idea.

"We wouldn't at first," she replied. "She'll be taken into protective custody when she's well enough to leave the hospital. I know it would normally be the responsibility of another department or agency but there's no reason we couldn't take care of her. And in the meantime we start the process to become foster carers so that she can stay with us after the case is over."

Derek took a moment to process everything she'd said before highlighting one of the many holes in her plan.

"Why would it need to continue after the case is over?"

Emily stared at the ground, realising that she'd been wishfully hoping he wouldn't ask too many questions.

"You've found out who the girl was," he stated, a look of realisation dawning across his face. That was why she had formulated such an elaborate strategy.

She nodded, still avoiding his critical gaze.

"You need to tell Hotch and the police."

"I only have her first name and it probably isn't even her real name. I need to find out more. She has a sister - if the police start poking around she won't be safe."

"Then we bring the sister in first. You're a federal agent; you can't sit on this."

She knew he was right, but that just made it so much harder. In her old life she'd have had more leeway to enable her to keep the girl and the baby safe. She'd have been able to twist the rules and ignore the occasional matter of procedure. But she wasn't chasing terrorists anymore. She was back where internal affairs were always breathing down their necks and where her actions would impact on those she cared about. It wasn't just herself she had to think about.

"You know it would be obstruction. You could lose your career, face criminal charges," he continued, watching as her mind played out various scenarios and solutions. He had to keep her grounded; he knew how easy it was to push all rational thoughts to the side after getting emotionally involved in a case.

"The sister won't speak to the police," she said at last. "What if I treat her like a confidential informant? I'll give the name to everyone who needs to know, but make it clear the information is in exchange for staying away from her."

"Emily..." he began, but she cut him off.

"She's a prostitute - she's terrified of being arrested but equally terrified of her pimp - it wouldn't be unusual for her to provide information anonymously."

She wasn't going to let this go.

"And the baby?" he asked. "Do you know how many people would need to agree for your plan to work?"

Social workers, Hotch, probably several agents higher up the chain of command, and she suspected internal affairs might have something to say given their investigation into Derek.

"It's worth a shot," she insisted. One girl had already died, and the medical examiner was only being kept alive by machines. She'd only just scratched the surface of what was going on. She had to try.

Her eyes met Derek's, radiating fierce determination. It must have been contagious, because despite all his doubts, and everything that said they should step away and get on with their lives, her plans had firmly taken root in his mind. Maybe they could do this. Maybe they could protect the baby and the girl's sister and get some sort of justice for everyone involved.

And maybe, if they were really lucky, the ghost of Doyle would disappear for good.

/
/

Following further discussion, they had given Sophie's name to the police, and done everything they could to ensure that Marissa wouldn't be bothered, by law enforcement at least. Hotch knew Emily was holding something back but he couldn't prove it, and he knew from experience that a confrontation would just push her further away. It didn't surprise him when she requested to take responsibility for the security of the baby.

Strauss hadn't been at all pleased about discussing the proposition. Strictly speaking, the BAU shouldn't have been involved in the investigation at all. It should have been passed over to another department or even left in the hands of the police. But she seemed to have softened in her old age, or at the very least been worn down by years working with the team, because she'd put forward a case for them maintaining an active role. In any event, the paperwork and complications created by the girl dying in an agent's apartment, the accidental shooting and the apparent connection to Ian Doyle meant that there was no way they would ever willingly distance themselves. Particularly not Emily Prentiss.

The meeting had been protracted and tense. Strauss didn't want to lose two agents from field duty, but at the same time knew the personnel to take responsibility for the child's custody had to come from somewhere. At the end of the day, budgets all traced back to the same source. Her superiors didn't seem to care which agents did what. Just as long as the agency avoided bad press.

Like accidental shootings in hospital corridors. Maybe limiting Morgan's need to use firearms wasn't such a bad idea.

Emily insisted that she felt it was her duty, as a federal agent, to protect life when someone had specifically reached out to her. To ensure the dead girl received justice, it was important that her child was kept safe. She'd even managed to keep a straight face and a sincere tone as she spoke. Almost.

Erin Strauss wasn't stupid. There were more ulterior motives at play in this arrangement than she cared to think about. But Hotch was willing to place his trust in his agents, and experience taught her that the unit chief's judgement was reliable, so she agreed.

She really was going soft.

Now it all depended on Derek being cleared to return to work. A suspended agent was no use to the agency in any role.

"You should wear the darker blue tie," Emily commented as Derek hovered anxiously in the doorway between their bedroom and bathroom. "It makes you look less like the kind of psycho that would shoot his girlfriend," she joked.

Five days had passed since their argument and tensions had definitely resolved. Or at least, they were sharing the same stress rather than adopting antagonistic positions. Today, Derek had been summoned for a second interview with internal affairs.

"Too soon?" she smirked, quirking an eyebrow at his shocked expression. "Come here," she instructed, noticing how he struggled with his nerves and his tie

As she adjusted his tie and pressed an unusually tender kiss to his lips, he realised exactly what he could lose if today didn't go well. His career was now so firmly intertwined with more important aspects of his life.

"It'll be okay," she assured him, smoothing her hands down the lapels of his suit jacket to straighten them. "Just tell them exactly what happened. They'll see it was an accident."

"You're not wearing your sling," he remarked, as Emily winced slightly when she withdrew her hand. Despite her continued protests that her injury was no more than a scratch, she'd been in considerable discomfort for the past couple of days.

"I don't want to look injured," she explained, reminding him that he wasn't the only one that would be questioned as part of the investigation. "I'll put it back on later."

"You shouldn't have to do that for me," he sighed.

"I want to," she insisted, knowing that he was risking a whole lot more than a delayed recovery in supporting her.

/
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It was strange to be at Quantico and not to head for the BAU offices. The feeling that this was not just an ordinary day was amplified by the fact they had to ignore the automatic pull towards their desks and their friends.

"Stop it," Emily hissed quietly, as Derek tapped his foot on the floor while they rode the elevator to the appropriate floor.

"How are you so calm?" he asked, shaking his head. He could understand why she'd been so good undercover. While he'd been trying not to lose his breakfast, she'd been reapplying her lipstick.

"You did nothing wrong; we have nothing to worry about," she told him, with confidence oozing from every pore. It had to be an act - she'd been just as restless as he had the previous night - but, damn, she was convincing.

The elevator doors pinged open and she linked her arm through his as they stepped off into the corridor.

"What are you doing?" he mumbled. They were always sure to avoid any open displays of their relationship at work.

"Presenting a united front," she responded, throwing him a grin.

They took a seat in the chairs lined up outside of conference room which had been commandeered by internal affairs for the day. She gave him a subtle look that warned him to stay still. What had happened to Mr Cool himself? She'd never seen Derek so nervous before. Upset? Yes. Angry? Definitely. But anxious? It wasn't an expression to which his face was accustomed.

"It'll be fine," she assured him one more time, before the door opened and someone called his name.