A/N: I've been desperate to write this part for ages, and am very proud of the fact I showed some restraint in not shoving it in too early! Thanks for reading, reviewing, following and favouriting. Hope you enjoy the update :)

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"I know, honey," Emily sympathised as Lucy screwed up her face and began to whimper in response to being moved from her moses basket. "I just can't leave you on your own," she explained, cradling the baby against her chest and rocking her gently from side to side.

After JJ left, she'd found herself at a loss for what to do. Ten minutes staring at her cellphone and pacing the house had been enough to tell her she had to occupy herself in some way. A shower would pass some time and also serve a practical use, unlike flipping through endless channels, trying to find a daytime TV show which she could convince herself to watch. However, showering while home alone with a newborn was a task which required more of a strategy than she'd anticipated.

"There we go," she soothed, carrying the little girl through to the bathroom and placing her in the bouncy seat which had been hauled upstairs. "I'll just be over here."

As she undressed and stepped into the bathtub, turning on the shower above, she checked that Lucy was still within her eye line. Her anxiety increased when she didn't have visual confirmation that the infant was safe - a fact which she was unsure whether to attribute to their particular situation or simply to the responsibility of caring for someone so utterly dependent on her.

Soon, the hot water pouring over her aching muscles provided a more instant, albeit temporary, relief than any of the painkillers she'd forced down her throat. However she was far from relaxed. Her eyes darted continuously back and forth between the quiet cellphone balanced by the sink, and the grizzling baby in her seat on the floor. If only the phone would ring, with news that everyone was safe, and the baby would fall back asleep. Then there would be a possibility that she might be able to get by without medication or heat to stop her wincing every time she moved.

/

The meeting place they'd chosen was out in the open, but with plenty of coverage for the team of law enforcement agents who were providing back up. Unfortunately, that also meant there were plenty of places for anyone who might be accompanying Marrissa to hide. Given her experience in the field, JJ wasn't showing any outward signs of her unease with the situation, but that didn't mean her pulse wasn't substantially faster than it had been even half an hour earlier.

"Is everything okay?" Hotch's voice asked through her earpiece.

"No sign yet," she mumbled, lifting her coffee cup to her mouth to stop it looking too obvious that she was talking to someone.

"To your left, about 100 yards away," he directed, having clocked a girl scanning the area ahead.

JJ nodded, signalling that she'd seen the girl in question. Her eyes quickly searched the footpath and nearby areas for anyone who could be a threat. It was stupid - she had at least ten agents and police officers, including Hotch and Morgan, dotted around the park to watch out for danger - but it seemed Emily's paranoia was contagious.

The girl, who was dressed in worn jeans and a coat which was far too thin to protect against the bitter chill of the wind, took a tentative seat beside her, keeping her distance as much as was possible on the small bench.

"Jennifer?" she asked, her eyes trained on her frayed cuffs.

JJ nodded.

"Thank you for meeting me, Marissa."

Hotch turned up the volume on the device which was transmitting the feed from JJ's wire directly to his earpiece. He didn't want to miss a word of this exchange. At the same time, he too increased his vigilance for any remotely suspicious behaviour. The downside of conducting the meeting in such a public place was that, even on a blustery fall afternoon, there were a lot of people to watch.

/
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It really was a miserable day and he was glad to escape the cold and settle back into his car. Now, he just needed everything to work as he'd planned it.

He was coming to regret the day he'd picked up those two sisters. They'd always been more trouble than the were worth, even before they got themselves involved with the Irish lot. He should have killed them both the moment he found out about the baby. The sooner he could erase all traces of their existence, the better. And, more than that, taking out the offspring of Ian Doyle would send exactly the message he wanted.

A quick glance at the incoming text to his cellphone told him that everything was in place. Turning his head to crack the tension from his neck, he pressed the phone to his ear. His call was answered almost immediately.

"Do it," he ordered. "And make sure no one screws up this time."

He started the engine, wanting to make sure he was well clear of the scene. There was nothing left for him to do here. Marissa was where she needed to be now, and she'd served her purpose. And if it all went to plan he'd never have to see her again.

/
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"It's okay, I hear you," Emily called, turning off the water and wrapping herself in a towel as Lucy screamed for attention. "I'm coming as fast as I can."

She was dripping wet, and moisture from her hair soaked straight into the baby's clothes, but she couldn't stand the sound of crying for a second longer. From the quiet, contented infant everyone had cooed over in the hospital, Lucy was becoming increasingly unsettled and irritable. It seemed she was picking up on the tensions in the house and on the persistent threat hanging over every minute of her little life.

"Shhh, it's okay," she soothed, hoping the rhythm of her heartbeat, and the security of her arms, might calm the child. Was Lucy aware that she was an imposter, taking on the role that should have been played by her mother? "Calm down, little girl. I've got you."

The crying continued until Emily was sure that she would soon join in. But eventually, the pained screams turned to tired whimpers, and then to small gurgles and squeaks. She gazed down at the pink face resting against her shoulder and studied the girl's bright eyes. There was no denying that her father was in there somewhere. It wasn't obvious, like it was with Declan, but once noticed, it couldn't be ignored.

Catching sight of herself in the mirror, where the condensation from the steam had cleared in the centre, she noted how normal the scene could be to an outsider. She looked like any tired new mother, juggling taking care of a baby and of herself. Her long hair hung in messy wet clumps against her back, and her eyes sunk back under the dark circles which surrounded them. But if you ignored the bruise on her cheek and the healing bullet wound on her shoulder, nothing suggested that her appearance was caused by anything other than the exhaustion of parenthood.

Looking more closely, there was even something natural in the way she held Lucy, and that took her by surprise. Because she wasn't the girl's mother; she wasn't a mother at all. And more than that, the child in her arms was a piece of exactly what she feared she would always be running from. It seemed strange that despite knowing that the slightest trace of Doyle could break her down into someone she didn't recognise, she knew without a doubt that she'd give her life before she let someone hurt his child.

/
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It was growing colder the longer they sat unsheltered from the wind. They'd fallen into an uncomfortable pattern of conversation, whereby JJ asked questions and Marissa gave short, unhelpful answers. The problem wasn't in deciding where her loyalties were placed, as the blonde agent seemed to assume, but in the fact she didn't have anything useful to supply. However, for her plan to work, she needed to keep the woman talking. For a little longer at least.

"There must be something else you can tell me about the men you work for," JJ pressed. "We can keep you safe."

She didn't even respond to the latter statement - safety was a concept which had lost all relevance - but she racked her brains for how to set up as many of the men as possible, providing descriptions and names wherever she could. It would never be enough

Before long, it was time to act, but there was something which seemed to be keeping her fixed to the slightly damp wood of the bench. Her readiness to face death was wavering now that the time had come to place herself in the line of fire. But if she didn't do it now then there would be no chance that they would get to the baby in time. Thinking of Sophie, thinking of the pain she'd suffered before she died and of the girl that would never know her mother, she got to her feet.

"What are you doing?" JJ asked, puzzled as the girl stepped in front of her. She could hear Hotch calling instructions to the agents at his side.

Marissa took a deep breath, concentrating entirely on her sister. They'd be together soon.

"They're going after the baby," she stated, far more calmly than she'd imagined she'd be capable of sounding. "I'm sorry."

JJ barely had time to process the words before a shout echoed in her ear and around the park.

"Gun!"

/
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"That's better, isn't it?" Emily cooed, fastening the dry sleep-suit and wrapping a blanket around Lucy. "Will we get you some dinner now?" she continued, finding that it was easier to maintain the one-sided conversation than to face the silence of the empty house or her fears over what could be happening at the park.

She picked up the swaddled baby, holding her close in a gesture that was more to comfort herself than the child. There was still no word from the others and with each passing minute she feared that something had gone wrong. It was as though the universe was taking some kind of karmic revenge for all the times she had kept them in the dark.

"They'll call soon," she said aloud. "And we might be able to let you meet your aunt. She's..."

A clattering noise from outside stopped Emily mid sentence, as she tensed up and listened intently for any further sounds. A few seconds passed in which nothing happened, and she smiled slightly, shaking her head and trying to shake off her unease.

"Everything's okay," she murmured, though her hold on Lucy didn't relax. "We're safe in here."

As she crossed to the window, with the hope of confirming that reassurance, the shattering of glass downstairs caused her to jump. At the low murmur of voices from inside the house any doubt as to the immediacy of the danger was removed.

For half a second, before the surge of adrenaline hit her body, she was unable to move or think. Then all her thoughts hit at once. She had to get help but her cellphone was still in the bathroom. Her gun - where was her gun? Her mind, in its startled state, seemed set on withholding that crucial piece of information. How could she have been so stupid as to leave it away from her person? What could she do to defend herself? How could she get out of this?

A small cry, from a child who was being held too tightly, alerted her to the biggest problem she faced.

"It's going to be okay," she whispered.

But she had no idea how.