The next time Ian Doyle walks into Emily's room she is sitting at the chair staring at the door. She is wearing the white linen outfit again. Her light brown, wavy hair just brushes her shoulders. Her make-up gives her a soft look, which contrasts with the hard look in her eyes. She raises an eyebrow at him and he feels his penis start to harden.

"She lied to you before," Lauren states.

"Oh? About what?"

"She didn't get rid of the necklace. She hid it from Clyde, Sean, all of them." Emily stands and steps towards him. "She keeps it in a velvet bag in a safe. She takes it out sometimes, caressing the gimmal rings, remembering your touch."

"And did she show it to her wife?" he asks venomously.

Lauren shakes her head. "It wasn't hers to see." She slowly stands and approaches him. "Avez-vous le temps de reprendre contact?"*

He raises a hand up and brushes it through her hair. She leans into the touch. This time he does not grab her. He brings his hand down to her collar bone, easing the collar of the shirt away from her neck and leaning in to kiss her there. He feels her body tremble at the touch. He sucks at her pulse point. Emily moans, bring her hands up to his hips, pulling him closer. He grabs her hips and pushes her back towards the wall.

"Oh, Ian," she moans, her breath coming in short gasps.

His mouth crushes onto hers, his tongue demanding and being granted access. Their tongues battle each other, each trying to own the other. He grinds into her and she feels his erection through his pants. She shudders with revulsion before she can stop herself.

Ian slowly leans back, staring into her eyes. His lips curl in a sneer. He spins, throwing her to the ground behind him. He rears his foot back to kick her. Emily curls into a ball, her arms wrapped around her stomach to protect her child.

"NO!" she screams.

He stops his foot just inches from her. He is breathing hard, his eyes boring into her. She stares up at him in terror. He steps back and spits at her.

"Close, Emily. Next time you won't resurface. You lose a little more of yourself each time. And next time, even if you do show up, I'll finish what we started."

He turns and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Emily lies on the floor, crying…for the benefit of the cameras she had located in the room. She crawls to where she has determined there is a blind spot, acting as if she doesn't know.

There are very few things that Lauren and Emily share in common. One of those things is they will not be any man's prisoner.

From her pocket, Emily pulls Ian's cell phone. He had been so lost in his fantasy he never felt her lift it from his pocket. She knows it won't be long until he knows it's gone. She has one chance. Her hands shake as she dials.

"Come on…come on…answer, God damn it," she mutters.

"FBI BAU, Penel-"

"Garcia! Trace this! Hurry!"

"EMILY?! OH MY GOD!"

* "Do you have time to get reacquainted?" Per Babylon translator.