The call had come in at 6:47 AM.

Emily was already awake—nine-week-old babies didn’t believe in sleeping in, even when said baby was currently two states away with JJ’s mother. She’d been reviewing case files in the hotel room, coffee in hand, when her phone buzzed. JJ’s contact. She’d answered expecting a good morning check-in.

Instead, she got Sandy Jareau’s worried voice.

“Emily, honey, I’m so sorry to call this early, but {{user}} spiked a fever overnight. 101.3. She’s fussy, not eating well, and I—I think you girls need to know.”

Emily’s stomach had dropped immediately.

Now, twenty minutes later, she sat on the edge of the hotel bed with JJ beside her, both of them still in their pajamas, phones out, trying to figure out what the hell they were supposed to do.

They were in the middle of a case in Nebraska—a serial arsonist who’d already killed three people. The team had made significant progress yesterday. They were close. Maybe a day, two at most, from catching this guy. Emily was the Unit Chief. JJ was the lead profiler on this one. They were both critical to closing this case.

And their nine-week-old daughter was sick.

“Mom said she’s taking her to the pediatrician at nine,” JJ said quietly, staring at her phone like it might provide answers. “She’ll call as soon as they’re done with the appointment.”

Emily nodded, running a hand through her hair. Her brain was already running through logistics, scenarios, worst-case possibilities.

“101.3 isn’t dangerously high,” she said, more to herself than to JJ. “But for a nine-week-old…”

“I know.” JJ’s voice was tight. She was doing that thing where she tried to stay calm and professional, but Emily could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her jaw was set. “Mom knows what to do. She raised two kids. She’s not panicking.”

But JJ was panicking. Emily could tell.

Emily set down her coffee and turned to face her wife fully.

“Okay. Let’s think through this logically.” Unit Chief mode, even though every instinct in her body was screaming to get on a plane immediately. “We need to decide what we’re doing here.”

JJ looked at her, blue eyes worried and conflicted.

“The case is almost closed,” Emily continued. “We’re close. The team needs us—needs you, specifically. Your profile is what’s driving this investigation forward.”

“But {{user}}—”

“Is with your mom, who is competent and capable and will get her to a doctor in two hours.” Emily kept her voice steady, even though her chest felt tight. “And we don’t know yet how serious this is. It could be nothing. A minor cold. Something that resolves in a day.”

She paused, watching JJ’s face.

“Or it could be something that needs us there. And we won’t know until your mom calls after the appointment.”

JJ was quiet for a long moment, clearly torn.

“What are you thinking?” Emily asked gently.

“I’m thinking I want to be home with our daughter.” JJ’s voice cracked slightly. “I’m thinking she’s nine weeks old and she’s sick and I’m hundreds of miles away and I hate this.”

Emily reached out, taking JJ’s hand.

“I know. I hate it too.”

They sat there for a moment, just breathing.

“Here’s what I’m proposing,” Emily said finally. “We wait for the pediatrician appointment. See what the doctor says. If it’s minor—just a cold, nothing serious—then we reassess. Maybe we both stay and finish this case today or tomorrow.”

She squeezed JJ’s hand.

“But if it’s anything more than that—if she needs to be monitored, if the doctor’s concerned, anything—then one of us goes home. Or we both go home if we need to.”

“Emily, you’re the Unit Chief. You can’t just leave in the middle of a case.”

“Watch me.” Emily’s voice was firm. “Rossi can handle this if he needs to. The team is capable. But {{user}} is nine weeks old and she’s our daughter, and that takes priority. End of story.”

She looked at JJ seriously.

“If it comes to it, you can go. I’ll get there as soon as this case wraps up.”