Merci for all the reads and reviews of last chapter. Always lovely to hear what you all think.

Happy reading =)

"Friendship is an arrangement by which we undertake to exchange small favors for big ones." – Montesquieu

I feel my brow furrow as I look at the number on my call display. It's not one I recognize.

"Hello?" I answer tentatively.

"Tom? Tom Kohler?"

"Who's asking?" I reply carefully, noting the caller's voice is decidedly female, and very familiar.

There is a slight pause. "It's Emily." Another pause. "Emily Prentiss."

I blink in surprise. I haven't heard from her in years. "Emily…wow. How are you?"

"I'm fine. Listen, I need to ask you something."

"Okay…" I say slowly, not liking her tone. She sounds almost panicked.

"Is there any chance you can meet me in Boston?"

"Boston?" I say in surprise. Why the hell does she need me in Boston? And why is it so time sensitive? Her tone is making it sound urgent, whatever it is. "I'm in D.C. right now," I reply slowly.

"I'll pay your expenses," she supplies quickly, her voice sounds almost desperate.

"Emily, are you in some kind of trouble?"

"I… Can you meet me? Please? I'll explain everything in person, I promise."

In the years I've known Emily I have never heard her panicked. Angry, frustrated, jovial, drunk, serious, comical, and upset, yes. But never panicked. I let out a sigh. If she's panicked, then she must really be in trouble. "When?"

"How soon can you get here?"

"Uh…" I trail off as I quickly log onto my computer to check flights. "I can be on the next flight out of D.C., which should get me to Boston in a couple hours."

"Good. I'll text you an address to meet at."

I don't bother asking how she knows my cell phone number, considering she somehow managed to procure my private home line. "Okay. Do I need to bring anything?"

"No," she answers quickly. "I'll see you soon."

"Yeah…" I say in reply, though she's already hung up. I stare at the phone in my hand, dumbfounded. After years of not hearing from her, here was the woman I once considered my closest friend, calling me up out of the blue, sounding like she's on the run, or hiding from someone. I grab my wallet and head for the door quickly. I hesitate in the doorway for a moment before grabbing my passport as well, figuring there's no way to know what Emily might ask of me. With one last glance around, I make my way to my car and head to the airport. As I navigate the streets to exit my neighbourhood, I have one dominant thought: just what the hell am I getting myself into?

I sit down at a table in the café and order myself a sandwich and a coffee when I realize in my haste to get to Boston, I hadn't eaten lunch. I glance around periodically, looking for signs of Emily, but find none. By the time my food arrives, I've been there for 10 minutes already and there was still no sign of her. I start to get a little anxious when I finish my sandwich and she still hasn't arrived. I pull out my phone and check my messages to make sure I'd gotten the address right.

"Tom."

I look up quickly to find Emily standing next to me. I jump out of my chair and wrap my arms around her tightly.

"Em," I murmur into her shoulder. "Are you all right?" I say as I step back and check her over, satisfied when I find no apparent injuries.

She looks different than the last time I saw her. We'd lost touch shortly after we graduated from Georgetown, so it had been a fair bit of time since we'd last seen each other, but still…she looks significantly different. Her hair is different, and there is a weariness about her – a far cry from the energetic and mischievous woman I'd befriended that first day at Yale.

"I'm fine," she says, pulling away completely and moving to the opposite side of the table. "Let's just sit." She glances around quickly and stops. "Actually, would you mind terribly if we switched tables?"

"Uh, no, it's no problem."

She wordlessly leads me to the back of the café and sits down with her back to the corner.

"Em – what's going on?"

"First, I need you to know that I love you dearly, Tom, and I trust you more than I trust anyone else in this world."

"Ily," I say, using my old nickname for her even though she'd always hated it.

I watch as her eyes soften instantly at the nickname. "Tomkin," she says softly, using the nickname she always threw back at me when I called her Ily. I hated it as much as she hated Ily.

"What's going on?" I ask again.

"Second," she begins, reverting back to her apparently predetermined talking points. "I need you to know that after this, I'll never ask you for anything ever again."

"Damnit, Emily. What the hell is going on?!" I demand, my frustration and worry bubbling over finally.

She looks down at her hands for a moment, and I can't help but notice the wear and tear on her fingernails. How much stress had she been under this last little while? And what was causing her that much stress that she'd revert to her old bad habit?

"I… I need you to swear you won't repeat a word of this to anyone. Ever."

"Emily-"

"No, Tom, I mean it. This is something you take to your grave."

To my grave?! I look her in the eye and can see the desperation she's trying to hold back. "Okay, Em. I swear it."

She nods and then takes a breath before beginning to explain. "After Georgetown I was recruited to the CIA."

My eyes widen. "The CIA?" She nods in confirmation. "So that's why you dropped off the face of the earth," I say, finally having an explanation for why my best friend up and disappeared on me.

She closes her eyes briefly in response. "Yeah. Tom, I'm sorry, I really am. But I don't have a lot of time…"

"Sorry, go ahead," I say, waving her on with my hand.

"Shortly after 9/11 I was assigned to a taskforce that was profiling terrorists."

My eyes widen even further. This was very quickly turning into the kind of story I might read in a crime novel, or see on a TV show. "Terrorists?"

She nods and continues her explanation. "We eventually were brought in to take down Valhalla, an international arms dealer causing all sorts of problems for Interpol. In order to do so I was sent deep undercover to get close to a man named Ian Doyle."

"How close?" I ask, fearing the answer.

"Close," is all she says, her expression unchanged. "After a long time under, I got enough intel for us to be able to take him down, but there was a slight problem."

"What kind of problem?"

"Doyle has a son he kept a secret from everyone. He told me about Declan when I got close enough, but no one else aside from his housekeeper, who helped deliver Declan and acts as his nanny, knew about him."

"So why is this a problem?"

"Because they want information on his network, and he's not going to talk. Not without some serious persuasion."

"They wouldn't…" Her expression shifts to a grimace telling me the answer I definitely didn't want to hear. "He's a child for God's sake!"

"The people who have him wouldn't bat an eye at using Declan to get Doyle to talk. That I can guarantee."

"But if they don't know about him, he's fine."

"Exactly, so I have to make him disappear. And quickly."

"He's here?" I say in shock, my eyebrows rising once again.

She nods. "I'm going to stage his and the housekeeper's death and take a few pictures to prove it. I'll tell them about his son and show them the pictures after he's away safely."

"Jesus, Emily. Does this guy know you were undercover?"

"Honestly? I don't know. But I know my team is taking care of it. For all intents and purposes, Lauren Reynolds died in a car crash."

"Lauren Reynolds?" I ask, my brow furrowing in confusion.

"My cover," she says simply.

"Okay," I say, blowing out a breath as I try to wrap my head around all of it. "What do you need from me?"

"I need you to adopt Declan."

"What?!" I reply loudly. She can't be serious – adopt a terrorist's son?!

"Keep your voice down," she hisses. "We don't want to attract attention. Boston is Doyle's territory."

"Sorry, but I- You want me to- Shit, Emily, do you know what you're asking me?"

"Yes," she says with a pained expression on her face. "I know it's a lot to ask, but Tom, Declan is- He's a good kid, he deserves a better life than living in his father's shadow."

"Emily-" I protest.

"Tom, please, I swear to you, I'll support you financially, you won't have to spend a cent on him. His nanny will stay with him, so you'll have help with raising him too."

I shake my head. This can't be happening. "Emily-"

"Tom," she interrupts, her voice cracking. "I don't trust anyone else to keep him safe."

I squeeze my eyes shut at her words and lean my head into my hands. I can't do this…can I? I'm no father. Hell, I haven't even had a steady girlfriend since college.

"Please," she begs.

I open my eyes and meet her gaze. I've never heard Emily Prentiss beg. Ever.

"He's a good kid, Tom."

"He must be," I shoot back. "You're risking everything to save him."

"I know," she says softly. "I can't let him be a pawn in their game. If they ever find out about him…these people who have Doyle… Nothing is off the table for them if it will get him to talk."

I grind my teeth as I try to reason my way to a decision. "Can I have a day to think about it?"

She hesitates and then her expression shifts to an apologetic one. "No," she says with a shake of her head. "I'm sorry, I need to get him out of here as quickly as possible."

"What am I supposed to do? Take him back with me to D.C.?"

"That's exactly what you do, Tom. I'll help get you a nice house, with a big yard…he'll love it." I shake my head – I should have known she would know where I lived considering she'd managed to procure my private home and cell phone numbers. "I'm out of options, Tom. You know I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't have to."

My eyes take in her pleading expression and I feel my resolve break. I love this woman too much to let her down, even if it's been years since we last saw each other. "Okay," I say with a nod. "I'll do it."

She lets out a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank you," she says, grasping my hands tightly in hers. "You're a life-saver, Tom."

I shake my head again, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I'd just agreed to be a father to a terrorist's son.

"I'll cover his expenses. He'll probably need to go to boarding school since you're on assignment fairly often – that's the safest option, I think. I'll make sure you, the housekeeper, and I are the only ones authorized to take him off campus. It'll probably be best, given the circumstances to get you situated somewhere close to campus. And I'll keep an eye on things with Doyle, and the second I know anything is up, I'll let you know and get you somewhere safely if need be."

"And you'll be there to help me out, right?" I ask hopefully. My experience with kids is minimal at best.

"No," she says as she shakes her head sadly. "I can't ever see him again. It's too much of a risk."

"You can't do that to yourself, Emily. You love that little boy! Why else would you be willing to risk everything to get him out? And I'm willing to bet he's pretty fond of you too. You can't just abandon him."

"I have to, Tom. He's not safe with me around."

"Emily-"

"Tom, please. Don't make this harder than it already is. I'll be settling in D.C. or Virginia soon, so I'll be somewhat nearby to keep an eye on things, but I can't be involved in his life."

I look at my friend sadly. I can see how much this decision is weighing on her. "Okay. What do we do now?"

"I have to take those photos, but then I'll send the three of you back to D.C. with everything you'll need to get him settled in the short term."

"Today?"

"I told you, I have to make him disappear before anyone thinks to look for him."

"But if no one knows about him yet, then they won't be looking for him."

"Fine, but there might be people looking for me, so he needs to get far away from me then. I'll text you the time to meet at the airport and I'll get you three on your way."

"Is this really happening?" I say, the shock of my decision setting in.

"Yes," she says with a nod. "And I can't thank you enough, Tom. Really."

"Okay, you're all set," Emily says quietly to the housekeeper/nanny, who I've learned is named Louise. "You'll fly with Tom back to D.C. and he'll get you set up in his house there until I sort everything out here. Then we'll figure out a new housing situation for you."

Louise's expression doesn't give away any clues as to her feelings, but her eyes are pleading with Emily. "Come with us, Laur- Emily," she says, a distinct Irish lilt in her voice.

Emily shakes her head fervently. "I can't. I wish I could, but I can't. The two of you will be safer this way."

Louise lets out a heavy sigh. "You're sure?"

Emily nods solemnly before turning her attention to Declan, squatting down in front of him. "Okay, Dec. You ready to go?"

He shakes his head, his lower lip beginning to tremble. "No, Lauren. I don't want to go."

Emily's face falls at his words, and I feel a wave of sympathy. If it's hard for Declan, it must be damn near impossible for Em. I can tell from the look in her eyes.

"C'mon, Dec," she says, her voice cracking slightly. "Hey, look at me."

He refuses to acknowledge her words and instead buries his face into her shoulder. Emily shoots me a brief look of helplessness and I step forward to make the hard decision for the young boy.

"Mon nounours," she says softly. "Regardez-moi." Declan looks up finally and I see big tears in his eyes. "You've got to be brave now."

"I don't wanna," he says quickly, shaking his head.

"You have to, buddy."

"Come with us."

She shakes her head. "I can't, Dec. You know that."

"I'm scared, Lauren," he admits softly.

"I know, Dec," she says, wrapping her arms around him tightly and pressing him to her body in a hug. "But you've been so brave today, and I just need you to be brave a little longer."

He seems to perk up at her words as she releases her hold on him. "I love you, Lauren."

Emily smiles back at him. "I love you too, buddy."

"Em," I say softly, glancing at my watch. "We gotta go."

She meets my gaze and nods minutely. She leans in to whisper something in Declan's ear and I watch as the young boy giggles, a wide smile breaking onto his face.

"I looked pretty good for a dead kid, didn't I?"

Emily lets out a light laugh and nods before wrapping her arms around him tightly before giving him a gentle push toward Louise. She stands up and throws her arms around me in a tight hug. "Take care of him, Tom," she whispers. I can hear her voice cracking with emotion.

"I will," I promise as I return the hug readily. "Take care of yourself, Em."

We break apart and I see a shimmer of tears in her eyes that she hastily wipes away. And without any further words, Louise, Declan and I make our way away from Emily. I can feel Emily's gaze on my back, and close my eyes briefly. I feel a deep sense of sympathy for my friend, and have to remind myself that she's strong. She always has been.

So how did we like Tom? Was the goodbye scene heart-breaking enough? This fill in that story gap nicely? Do let me know!