A/N: I am so sorry for the long delay in updating this story (and my others). My English teacher kept me ridiculously busy this semester writing papers on things like how 8=5, but fortunately that is all behind me now, and I have almost a month before summer classes start to focus on my stories. To any of you who have left a review on one of my stories that I didn't respond to, I apologize. It always means a lot to me to know that people are still reading my stories and to hear from readers. I hope this chapter has been worth the wait.

This string of art thefts is being used to fund an upcoming terrorist attack . . . I don't think you want to risk having the deaths of god only knows how many innocent people on your conscience . . .

Kurt's parting words to her played on a repeating loop in Jane's head as the minutes ticked by in silence, until she felt like the very walls were closing in on her. Part of her wanted to believe that he was mistaken, he had to be, but deep down she knew . . . she knew Shepherd was capable of it.

She'd certainly been a terrorist to the children she'd taken in.

The only question now was, what was she going to do about it? Jane drew a deep breath and tried to think, to reason a way out of this, but it seemed impossible. Either she remained silent and allowed countless innocent people to die, or . . .

Or she signed her brother's death warrant.

Time seemed to tick by agonizingly slowly as Jane pondered her choices, and she had no idea how much had passed before she heard raised voices outside the door. "You put Jane in an interrogation room like a common criminal?" demanded a very familiar voice as the door began to slide open. "And you're surprised she wouldn't talk to you? What the hell, Kurt?"

Kurt opened his mouth to respond, but whatever he had been about to say was lost when Jane locked eyes with him. She glanced from him to his sister and then back again as the stunning truth dawned on her. Sarah Weller. Kurt Weller. Oh god.

She had slept not only with the cop whose duty it was to arrest her, but with her best friend's brother.

"Jane!" Sarah rushed over and hugged her fiercely. "Are you okay? I apologize for my brother arresting you," she continued before Jane could respond. "He has a good heart, and he means well, but he's a man. You know how clueless they can be."

Not nearly as clueless as me, Jane thought with grim amusement. She should have made the connection almost immediately, but in her defense, it had been an eventful twenty-four hours. And the photos of Kurt in Sarah's apartment were of a much younger version, because, in Sarah's words, he was "a bit camera shy and too damn focused on his job to stop and smell the roses." She had glanced at the pictures only perfunctorily, not wanting to encourage her friend's matchmaking tendencies.

Of course, now it appeared that Sarah had more talent in that department than Jane had given her credit for. Or would have, if everything Jane believed about herself hadn't turned out to be a lie. She ignored Kurt's protests that he hadn't arrested her as she soaked in the warmth of an embrace she would likely never feel again. "I'm . . ." Fine, she started to say when Sarah once again asked her how she was, but she was done lying, even to herself. "I've been better."

Sarah gave Jane another quick squeeze before stepping back. "I know something more is going on with you than just your brother being kidnapped. Whatever it is, Kurt can help. He's a great guy, and a terrific agent, and I'm not saying that just because he's my brother. Talk to him, Jane. Please."

"Sarah . . ." Jane took a deep breath as her only way out became crystal clear. "I know you've been worried about me, and I appreciate your concern, but I'm just scared for my brother." She swallowed down the wave of emotions that came with the reminder. "Now if there's nothing else, I really need to get back to the museum."

Kurt held her gaze for a long moment before inclining his head, and she walked out without a backwards glance.

xxx

It was well after nine before Kurt walked into his darkened apartment, and he heaved a weary sigh as he tossed his keys on the entryway table and headed straight for the kitchen to pour himself a glass of scotch.

"Rough day at the office?" Jane inquired as she switched on the lamp beside his couch.

Kurt had his gun out and trained on the intruder before he registered who she was. "Jesus, Jane. I could have shot you." He holstered his gun as he walked over to her. "I had a feeling I'd be arresting you soon, but I didn't expect it to be for breaking and entering my apartment."

Jane raised an eyebrow as Kurt pulled out his cuffs. "Whoa. We can discuss using those, but don't you think you should offer me a drink first?" She sighed as Kurt levelled her a steely glare at the joke. "I'm just . . . I need your help."

"That's funny. I offered you my help eight hours ago, and you threw it back in my face." Kurt glanced away from Jane's pleading green eyes. "Stand up and put your hands behind your back."

"If you're serious about arresting me for breaking and entering, in the interests of saving us both time and you embarrassment, let me assure you I didn't do that. I didn't even help myself to a glass of that scotch, although I'd greatly appreciate one." Jane dug in her pocket and held up the evidence to corroborate her story. "I had a key."

Kurt plucked the key from Jane's fingers. "How did you—Sarah," he answered his own question. He retraced his steps and poured Jane the requested glass of scotch, taking a healthy swallow of his own as he made his way back to the couch. "What is it you want, Jane?"

Jane stared down into her scotch for a long moment before forcing herself to meet Kurt's coolly assessing gaze. Fleetingly, she wondered if this would be easier or harder if they hadn't shared a night of passion. A night of passion that had begun on this very couch. "I'll come clean with you about everything I know, but in return I want your word that you'll do everything you can to help my brother."

"Jane . . ." Kurt blew out a breath. "Look, I'm happy to make whatever inquiries I can, but I really don't see how I can be of much help. The FBI handles domestic matters, and since your brother was abducted overseas . . ."

"Shepherd had my brother abducted overseas," Jane corrected. "But I believe Lincoln was smuggled back into the States several months ago."

"So you do know him." Kurt rocked back on his heels. "How am I supposed to believe anything you tell me now when you've already lied to me?"

"I told you I didn't know any man by that name," Jane fired back. "And that was the god's honest truth."

"Shepherd's a woman?" Kurt sank down onto the couch as that truth took root. "Are you sure? How do you know?"

Jane took another swallow of scotch, relishing the burn as it slid down her throat. "Because Shepherd was my mother." Her lips tilted up in a humorless smile at the dumbfounded look on Kurt's face. "I guess I should start at the beginning, huh?"

"I think that would be for the best," Kurt agreed. "How did the two of you meet?"

"I picked her pocket." Jane's smile turned bitter at the memory. "A week after I ran away with Lincoln the last time. I thought I'd gotten away clean, but I rounded the block and ran smack into her. I thought sure she was going to haul me straight to the nearest police station, but instead she sat me down and pried my story out of me, then convinced me to go get Lincoln and come home with her."

"I'm guessing she didn't do that out of the goodness of her heart," Kurt said dryly.

Jane snorted. "I'm fairly certain Shepherd doesn't have a heart, although she certainly fooled me in the beginning. She bought us new clothes and books and toys, and for the first time in a long time, we had regular home-cooked meals, and enough of them. She even had us choose new names to commemorate our new start in life. But worst of all, she showered Lincoln with affection."

"She used him against you," Kurt guessed.

Jane nodded. "Lincoln was so young when our parents died that he didn't even remember them, and by the time I realized there was a quid pro quo, he already thought of Shepherd as a mother. We both did."

"What did she make you do?" Kurt asked.

"She brought in professional thieves to hone my skills in several different areas, just as a game, she claimed, but once I started getting good, she started pressuring me into using them. At first it started out small, just picking a certain person's pocket or taking something from their office while Shepherd arranged a distraction. Eventually she stepped up her threats against Lincoln to force me into more . . . high-end thefts. That's where my love for art began. I always thought it was the one good thing to come out of my time with Shepherd, but now . . ."

"I'm sorry, Jane." Kurt sighed as he attempted to process all that she had told him so far. "I know what it's like to have a parent who's a criminal. My dad . . ." He couldn't get into that right now. "So I'm assuming Shepherd had Lincoln abducted to blackmail you into stealing those paintings for her. Do you know what she's planning?"

"No!" Jane sat bolt upright. "No, I parted ways with Shepherd the minute I turned eighteen, and I haven't laid eyes on her since. We hadn't even talked until she called to tell me she had Lincoln and lay out her demands, and the only face-to-face meetings I've had have been with my . . . with one of her lieutenants."

"And what is this lieutenant to you? Jane. I can't help you if you're not completely honest with me," Kurt told her when she hesitated.

"Oscar . . . Oscar was my fiancé, okay?" Jane closed her eyes at the rush of emotion the memories of that time evoked. "I told you that Shepherd and I parted ways when I was eighteen, but it was far from amicable. I made the mistake of telling her my intention to leave and take Lincoln with me beforehand, but my promise to keep her secrets in exchange for our freedom wasn't enough to reassure her. She insisted on taking me out to dinner the night before my birthday to commemorate our time together, and I was still just naïve enough to believe she cared."

Jane gave a harsh bark of laughter. "God, what a fool I was. Shepherd drugged me, and when I woke up the next day in an abandoned building, she and Lincoln were gone. I didn't see him again for four years."

Kurt resisted the urge to pull Jane into his arms. "And Oscar? How did he fit into all this?"

"Shepherd sent Oscar to insinuate himself into my life and keep tabs on me. She wanted to know not only if I had talked to anyone else about her, but if I could be persuaded to open up about my life with her to someone I . . . came to care about."

"That bitch." Kurt bit back a few choice words he'd never uttered in the presence of a lady. God help Shepherd if he ever got her in a room alone. Or Oscar. "I'm guessing you didn't fall into her trap."

"No, or I'm sure I wouldn't be here now." Jane took a deep breath. "Lincoln was the only family I had, and having him ripped away from me like that, not knowing if he was alive or dead . . . I threw myself into work and school to keep from going crazy. Oscar was the first person I let myself get close to again, and in retrospect the fact that we had so many interests in common that he seemed tailor-made for me should have been a huge red flag, but I just . . . I was still so damn naïve."

"No," Kurt disputed, "you were lonely and vulnerable. You needed someone, and Oscar took advantage of that. When did you figure out he was Shepherd's plant?"

"Not soon enough." Jane smiled humorlessly. "Almost from the moment I accepted his proposal, Oscar started pressuring me to set a wedding date, but I just couldn't bear to get married without Lincoln there. And then one day, right before graduation, he showed up at our apartment. When he walked in and saw Oscar, he went ballistic. I thought he was going to kill Oscar before I managed to separate them. And then when I found out that Shepherd had told Lincoln I was dead—and that Oscar had known where he was all along . . ." Jane shook her head. "Part of me wanted to finish the job myself."

Part of him wished that she had. Kurt wrapped his hands tightly around his glass of scotch to keep from wrapping them around Jane's.

"Oscar . . . Oscar had the nerve to continue to insist that he loved me, that nothing had to change. He told me he still wanted to marry me. I told him if I ever saw him again, I'd ensure that no woman ever wanted to marry him."

"Good for you," Kurt said fiercely.

"Yeah, well . . ." Jane shrugged. "I didn't exactly make good on that promise. But apparently Shepherd decided I could be trusted to keep my mouth shut, because she left us alone after that. At least until she needed my skill set again."

"Jesus," Kurt groaned. "And I thought my childhood was messed up. You didn't deserve that, Jane. You didn't deserve any of this. And I'm so sorry you're having to deal with Oscar again. But I have to ask . . . why not come clean about all this earlier today?"

"Because . . . Lincoln and I and Oscar weren't the only kids Shepherd took in. She's a modern-day Fagin, Kurt. She molded some of us into criminals—thieves, hackers, con men, prostitutes. And for others, she footed the bill for boarding schools in order for them to become lawyers, judges, politicians." She paused for a beat. "Cops."

Kurt went cold. "You think Shepherd has someone on the inside at the FBI."

"I couldn't take that chance. If Shepherd found out I talked, Lincoln and I would have both been dead by nightfall." Jane gazed down at her hands. "But I could never live with myself if I'd kept quiet and innocent people paid the price for it. Just please . . . help my brother."

"I'll do you one better." Kurt gently brushed his knuckles over Jane's cheek. "I'll help the both of you. I'm sure I can get you a deal if you agree to help us bring Shepherd down. And Sarah would never forgive me if I didn't."

"Thank you," Jane choked out as she flung herself into Kurt's arms.

"You're welcome, Jane," Kurt said as he smoothed his hands up and down her spine. "You're very welcome."