A/N: So I have to admit that working on three stories at once is a bit harder than I thought but I'm really trying to give them all attention! Thanks for reading and reviewing and I hope you enjoy the update.

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The safe house was an innocuous detached property in a far flung suburb of DC. It was small enough that it would have been a chaotic family home, but compared to their apartment, its proportions felt generous. The only thing which set it apart from the surrounding buildings was its security. Each external door had enough locks to at least delay even the most experienced of housebreakers and the windows were fastened tightly shut. The whole property, along with the front path and small square of a back yard were covered by security cameras which fed not only to the monitors within the house, but also straight back to Quantico. The lack of privacy was something neither of them had even contemplated until now. Normally, it would have seemed excessive but everyone who was involved knew only too well how dangerous the sorts of people they were dealing with could be.

"Do you have any questions, then?" JJ asked, having run through the final details of the plan to ensure their safety. The hourly patrol of unmarked police cars would ensure any suspicious activity in the street was detected before danger even strayed into the path of the cameras.

"I don't think so," Emily replied, examining the fake driving licenses and passports on the coffee table. She was taking on the identity of Claire Winter, a legal secretary, who had moved to the quiet neighbourhood with her middle manager husband, Richard, to raise their adopted daughter.

"Well, if you think of anything you can always call your little sister on your new cellphones," JJ said, passing them the devices, which were preloaded with a fabricated family of emergency contacts. JJ was listed under the alias of Amanda Hart, Claire's younger sister and Lucy's doting aunt.

While Emily seemed to take the whole charade in her stride, Derek found it more difficult to deal with. He hadn't really accounted for the lack of contact he would have with his family, and even with the others back at Quantico. It only served to demonstrate the lasting effect of Emily's previous life in comparison to his more straight forward time as a police officer. It was going to take some time to get used to being Richard Winter.

"What do we do now?" he asked after JJ had left. Short of pacing around his unfamiliar surroundings for the foreseeable future, he didn't really know how to keep himself occupied. Give him a violent UNSUB and he knew what to do; give him a baby and a secret identity and he was clueless.

"We unpack, get Lucy settled for the night and then we study our legends so there are no discrepancies when we start to meet the neighbours," she replied, sliding effortlessly into her old lifestyle.

Morgan sighed, as he turned towards the window and gazed out at the other identical houses with their practical driveways and neutral curtains. If two FBI agents and a baby wanted by international gangsters could hide in this sleepy part of town then what other secrets were hidden away? He supposed that was the reason for all the security; you never could tell who was laying in wait. His lips upturned slightly at the thought. He hadn't even been undercover, or whatever official term described their task, for a full hour and he was already thinking like a spy.

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It hadn't taken them long to unpack their belongings. Most of the contents of the house had already been supplied, along with the balloons and cards which were placed in view of the front window, making sure everyone would know the latest additions to the street had just welcomed a new baby. It seemed a little strange to be drawing attention to the very thing they were effectively keeping hidden, but further thought made it clear that this was the perfect example of hiding in plain sight. It was just like Emily had done for Declan. While Lucy's true identity would never be revealed, she wouldn't be kept away from the world. Because, amongst the thousands of babies in the city, there was nothing to suggest that there was anything suspicious about one particular newborn girl and her anxious, adoptive parents.

The anxious parents role was one to which neither Emily nor Derek was struggling to adapt.

"Come on, baby girl, it's time to go to sleep," Morgan cooed, gently rocking the screaming bundle in his arms. Her head was still small enough to rest in the palm of his hand, but he swore her lungs had to be as big as the rest of her body for her to produce so much noise.

By the time Emily appeared in the room, with her hair damp from her shower and a smirk across her lips, he had started to sing.

"Don't stop on my account," she laughed, as he became aware of her presence and fell silent in the middle of a note.

"Henry didn't cry like this," he mumbled, changing Lucy's position so that she rested against his shoulder. Still she screamed.

"No, JJ just took him away from you when he cried like this," Emily corrected him, still smirking at the sight of the invincible Agent Morgan struggling in battle with the screams of the tiny child. "Do you want me to take a turn?" she added, sensing his exasperation.

He stopped wandering around the room just long enough to throw her a look which confirmed that comforting the baby had now turned into a competition. And he was not going to lose.

"I got it, Mommy," he grinned, trying to block out the wailing which was now right beside his ear. "We've got some father daughter bonding going on here. Haven't you got some reading to do for your book club?" he added, proving that he was capable of remembering the finer details of their legends. Whoever had put them together had paid a lot of attention to creating a list of hobbies and interests as well as a backstory.

"Suit yourself," Emily shrugged. She would remind him of his eagerness to be hands on at four o'clock in the morning.

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Once downstairs, Emily settled into the armchair which had a view of the street and surveyed the goings on from outside. A steady stream of traffic and people walking their dogs or going for a run, drifted by the window. It was the time of night when those who worked in the heart of the city were starting to come home and everything appeared so perfectly normal. But while there was nothing to suggest anything untoward, and it was of course an impossibility, an irrational part of her mind expected to see Doyle's bright blue eyes emerge from the darkness.

After ten minutes or so, the sound of Lucy's cries stopped and the house fell silent. It seemed Morgan had the magic touch after all. She smiled, noting for the first time in her life how attractive fatherly instincts could be in a man. She wondered if he would come down to join her immediately or if he'd stay with the child. Another smile crept across her face as it became clear that the latter was correct.

She shook her head, trying to snap out of the moment. Morgan was not a father. Lucy was not their child. This was an assignment, and one that she'd pushed to undertake at that. They were only playing roles.

Caught in her thoughts, she was startled when the sound of a ringing cellphone filled the room. It took her a moment to realise that the noise wasn't coming from her new cell, but from the one which she should have turned off by now. And she would have, had she not been holding out the remains of hope for the exact call which was now incoming.

"Hello?" she answered, holding her breath as she waited for confirmation that the unknown number was indeed the caller she desperately wanted to hear from.

"Emily," the whispered voice of a young woman replied. "I can't talk. I need to see you," she continued, hurriedly.

"Marissa, what's wrong?" Emily asked, leaning forward as though she was preparing to jump up and leave at any moment.

"I can't talk," she repeated. "Please."

Emily heard the sound of male voices somewhere in the background and Marissa fell silent. She waited, not wanting to make a noise in case it got the girl into trouble, but refusing to accept that the conversation could be at and end.

"Corner of Winston Street and Sinclair Avenue. It's about Valhalla," Marissa hissed suddenly, before the line went dead.

Emily stared at the phone for several seconds as she realised the mistake she had made. Winston Sinclair was never a person; it was an address. And one where she might have already met with Marissa if she'd understood the message.

"Who were you talking to?" Morgan asked, having heard her voice as he came down the stairs to join her. Before she could answer, he noticed that the cellphone in her hand was the one which should have been shut away with their real passports and licences. "Emily?" he frowned.

"I need to go out to buy more diapers," she told him, both ignoring and answering his question.

He sighed. While he'd known there was a chance that Marissa would get back in touch, he'd hoped it would be in a way that posed less of a risk to his girlfriend.

"Be careful," he implored her, as she retrieved her weapon from the safe which was hidden in the bookcase.

"I will," she promised. "Try and get some sleep while Lucy's down."

He nodded, knowing he wouldn't be so much as closing an eyelid until she returned.

And with that, she left the house, shielding her face against the latest downpour of rain with her arm. As she slipped into their car and turned the keys in the ignition, the adrenaline pumping through her body started to take effect. The word had preoccupied her thoughts since it slipped from Sophie's lips, but she'd never been so close to discovering its meaning.

Valhalla. Valhalla. Valhalla.

It sounded in her head like the fast beat of her heart as she tried to watch her speed on the wet, black roads.

She was going to find out exactly what was going on.