A/N: I've been super busy recently but have finally got some time off. I plan on having a bit of an updating spree while I have the chance. Anyway, thanks for reading, reviewing, following and favouriting. Hope you enjoy the chapter :)

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Morning rolled around, fuelled by caffeine and, in Emily's case, a dose of painkillers. Her shoulder had only been further aggravated by the tossing and turning which accompanied a sleepless night.

Derek watched with a frown as she warmed Lucy's bottle and chased down another pill with a mouthful of strong black coffee. He'd already made the suggestion that she should see a doctor, but she hadn't dignified it with a response. In fact, she wasn't really saying much at all.

Doing her best to ignore Derek's worried hovering, Emily tipped up the bottle, testing the temperature of the formula against her inner wrist. It would be easier to focus on the day to day tasks of caring for the girl than to get to the bottom of her mother's murder. But that wasn't really an option.

"I can feed her if you want to lie back down," Derek offered.

"I've got it," she insisted, brushing past him and through to the living room where she'd left Lucy in her rocker.

He sighed, knowing Emily would shut down completely at the slightest hint of his concern. It seemed that every time they made progress in trusting one another something would happen to cause her to take several steps back.

"Emily," he called, trying not to let his frustration show as he followed after her.

She'd picked up Lucy and was perched on the arm of the sofa, holding the baby securely in the crook of her good arm, and trying not to let her pain show as she angled the bottle towards the child's mouth.

"I'm okay," she insisted once again, as he watched her struggle. Lucy squirmed and turned away from the bottle, refusing to feed. "Come on," Emily muttered, willing the baby to take the formula. Lucy screwed up her face and wriggled more violently.

"Em, let me do it," Derek said softly.

"I can feed the damn baby," she replied through gritted teeth, though her anger wasn't directed at her partner or the child. Her thoughts still lingered on Marissa's split lip and the look of fear in her eyes when she heard the police sirens.

"I know that," he assured her in the same gentle tone.

She looked up, her eyes meeting his as he gave her a small smile. For a moment it seemed like she was going to relent. Her tense posture relaxed and she adjusted her hold on Lucy, looking as though she was going to pass the child to Derek.

But then the doorbell rang and she immediately got to her feet, without so much as a glance in his direction as she headed into he hall with the whimpering child held close to her chest.

Derek slumped down on the chair she'd vacated with another sigh. The sooner this case was over the better. Their invitation to visit his mother in Chicago was still open, and all he wanted was to take his girlfriend away before anyone else had a chance to chip away at her strength, or that of their developing relationship.

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It was only after glancing through the peep hole that Emily determined it was safe to answer the door with Lucy in her arms. In fact, after seeing Hotch's stern face on the other side, she suspected the presence of the baby might offer some protection from the wrath she expected to be released. His expression made it clear he knew something of last night's escapades and was not impressed.

"Prentiss," he greeted her, his features barely moving other than to nod as he walked straight into the hallway.

She felt herself grimace as she prepared for what was about to follow. He was really pissed.

"Hotch," she responded, distracting herself in her attempts to settle the whimpering baby.

"Hotch, what are you doing here?" Morgan asked with an edge of surprise as he joined them at the sound of his boss's voice. JJ was supposed to be their liaison after all.

"I need to speak to Emily," he explained, his tone making it clear that it wasn't going to be a friendly chat.

"I'll take Lucy upstairs," Derek volunteered, sliding the baby from Emily's arms to his own. This time she didn't hesitate. They might have shared most aspects of their lives, but she didn't want him around to see her receive a dressing down from their superior.

"Do you want a coffee?" Emily offered, as her partner retreated to safety and Lucy's wails became more distant.

"Thank you," Hotch replied, following her through to the kitchen.

As she poured the hot liquid into a mug, and determined she'd be better off skipping a third cup, she realised she wouldn't be able to stall much longer.

"Hotch, I don't know what you know about last night but I think I need to explain," she began, passing the mug towards him and trying not to revert back to being the teenager hauled into the principal's office for smoking behind the gym.

"I'd tend to agree with you on that," he responded, his expression as stony as ever as he accepted the coffee. "Garcia nearly had a heart attack when the police report was flagged up on her system." The hyperbole wasn't accompanied by even the hint of a grin. "You're lucky you weren't arrested for assault."

"Assault?" Emily's eyebrows arched dramatically as she questioned the version of events Hotch seemed to have received. "One of them threw me into the side of my car and the other groped me!"

Hotch looked rather taken aback by his agent's outburst. He'd rarely seen Emily fly off the handle in that way. And the few times she had, either Strauss or her mother had been involved. Her account certainly wasn't what he'd been expected.

"Are you okay?" he asked slowly, thrown off from the conversation he'd expected.

"I'm fine," she replied, folding her arms defensively across her chest and leaning back against the kitchen units. She was jittery and sweating from too much caffeine, as well as the events of the previous night, and could hardly look him in the eye.

He scrutinized her more carefully, noticing the slight shadow across her cheek, which was most likely a developing bruise. It made him feel uncharacteristically naive that he'd accepted the police report at face value.

"What happened?" he asked, sounding more sympathetic than he started out.

Emily shook her head and sighed, unsure where to begin. And more importantly, how much to tell him.

"Why don't you start by telling me what you were doing on the other side of the city?" he prompted, his anger returning as he she continued to evade his questions.

"I went out to get diapers," she responded, the lie feeling uneasy as it crossed her lips. "I couldn't find a store that carried the right size."

"And just happened to stumble across two police officers who proceeded to assault you?" Hotch's reply was laced with disbelief and frustration that she wasn't telling him the truth. He'd known all along that she had ulterior motives in proposing her semi-undercover assignment, and he'd been able to turn a blind eye to it. Until now that was. Now that Claire Winter's name was flashing up on police records he needed to know exactly what his agent was up to.

Emily struggled to maintain her faltering poker face as she shrugged her shoulders. It hadn't even been a convincing lie but for some reason she felt the need to hold onto it.

"You can trust me," he reminded her, once again treading the line between treating her as a friend and treating her as an out of control subordinate.

"And you can trust me," she insisted, her eyes pleading with him to drop the matter. "Please, Hotch."

"If you're going to keep working this case I need to know what you're involved in," he continued.

Emily chewed the inside of her lip, before nodding as she accepted that, no matter how reluctant she was to do so, the time had come to read everyone in on what was happening.

"Sophie's sister," she began. "Marissa. I've been meeting with her. She's been giving me information to get to Doyle's men."

"And were you going to pass that information to us?"

Her eyes widened as she snapped her head around to glare directly at him. After all they'd been through in faking her death, how could he ever doubt her loyalty? Then again, even she didn't know when she'd been planning to tell the team all that she knew.

"Of course I was," she responded, her glare becoming less indignant and her voice lacking the certainty it would have had a mere second before. She ran a hand through her hair, feeling a sickening sensation that she was losing control. How could Doyle still do this to her?

Hotch nodded, making no comment on the uneasy expression which lingered on his agent's face.

"I'll call the others. You can tell us all at the same time."