nike_ravus | A Fake Empire Christmas pt 2 (Reply)

Title: Fake Empire Christmas Spectacular (part 2 of 2)
Author: Alsike
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: X-Men/Criminal Minds
Pairing: Emma Frost/Emily Prentiss, other Emma Frost/Emily Prentiss
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men or Criminal Minds. I owe

wizened_cynic for the concept of quantum babies. She does it much better than me. Title stolen from the song by The National.
Apologies: Happy Christmas! Warning: Not as funny as part 1. And if you want to know what happens on 12/26: Boxing Day.

Fake Empire 1 (Queen Emma)
Fake Empire 2 (JJ's Part)
Fake Empire 3 (Emily's Part)
Fake Empire 4 (The Mansion)
Fake Empire 5 (Kyougen)
Fake Empire 6 (Morning)
Fake Emipire 7 (Mostly Emma's)
Fake Empire 8 (JJ goes off the deep end)
Fake Empire 9 (Back to work)
Fake Empire 10 (Visitors)
Fake Empire 11 (Jubilee)
Places out of Time
Everyday Fiascoes

Part 1

12/23

“It looks like the BAU needs a daycare,” Rossi said grimly. Garcia chuckled.

“I think Morgan’s got it covered.” He was currently being a climbing gym for both Didi and Henry, and even Jack was hanging out with them and being amused against his will.

Garcia smiled wider when she noticed Emma, leaning against the wall outside the bathrooms looking bored in a clingy long-sleeved dress that cupped her hips and barely touched her thighs. She was… making an impression. And this year had clearly been made to wait outside.

And then she saw Hotch notice Emma, and begin to move towards her, and Emma, sensing it, looked up, and started cutting the distance between them down.

* * *

“Ms Frost,” Hotch said, his eyes narrowing as they fell on her. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I can’t imagine why not.”

Hotch looked at Emma, his eyes slightly narrowed. “I doubt that.”

And it was blatantly obvious, since he was broadcasting it like a shortwave radio. “Finding a woman who has a child less attractive is your problem, not mine.”

“That’s rather unexpected, coming from you.”

Emma did not like his composure. “Why would you say that?”

“Because of the way you’ve treated her for the last three years.”

She laughed. “Have you been profiling me?”

“It’s my job, and it’s my job to make sure my team is safe.”

Emma scowled. He had no right to talk about safety. Baring her teeth in a grimace, she snapped back at him. “Good job of that you’ve done so far then. How many fucking times have I had to come find her in a hospital?”

Hotch didn’t flinch. “You’re here because of me, because you’re too selfish to let her find someone else, who will actually care and give her the attention she needs.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I had to recalibrate when I saw you here. You really are even more selfish than I thought. Your need for casual sex, casual relationships, even your casual attitude when saving the world made me certain that you were revolted by responsibility. But you’re still here. You must be even more reluctant to let her go than deal with her new charge.” Hotch shrugged. “But Emily never asks for anything. She was probably far too eager to reassure you that she’d still never ask anything of you. She must do that all the time as it is.”

Emma watched him think, a small nasty smile on her lips. It was funny, she thought, how he was more right about her than he was about Emily. But perhaps he thought that Emily was the same with everyone as she was with him. She never asked him for anything, just showed how competent and eager for action she was and waited to be acknowledged. She didn’t really ask Emma things either. She demanded things, sometimes politely, sometimes not.

“You think she doesn’t ask me for anything?” Emma inquired, passing the tip of her tongue over her lips. “I could give you a list, from just, last, night.” One of them had been ‘please just try to be nice at the party tomorrow.’ She had tried. This really wasn’t her fault.

Hotch’s sour expression became even more disapproving. “It’s not like her begging for a fucking requires a great sacrifice on your part.”

And she had got him to swear. She wasn’t even the one who had brought up sex. Perfect. “Oh, I did most of the begging last night.” She fingered the sleeve of her sweater-dress, not quite tugging it down enough to reveal anything, but close enough to hint. “You think you could handle that? You ever begged for a fucking?” She looked at him, seeing the reflection of her hard blue eyes in his brain, loving the panicked desperation as he tried to control his arousal. “You ever begged for a whipping?” All these serial-killer-hunters had too much experience with the sick side of humanity to be honestly shocked. They knew their own darkness. Perhaps that was why she got on so well with all of them. “Did you really think that your limited experience could ever satisfy her? She comes from Hellfire. It’s in the blood.”

“Um.” It was Emily’s voice. She looked… less than amused. Emma grinned.

“Hey.” Emma caught her before she could escape and reeled her in, rubbing against her and pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “I was just chatting with your colleague.”

“My boss,” Emily muttered, half in her brain. But the tension had melted from her frame when Emma’s arms had closed around her. Anyways, Emma wasn’t about to give him that title. Emily had been a department head herself, even if it hadn’t been for a long time. A deposed king never became a pawn.

“He was just wondering how I was getting along with Deirdre.”

Emily scowled up at her. Emma did like wearing heels, and would wear them even if the only benefit was the added four inches. “She likes you better than me. You know I hate that. And I hate it when you call just to talk to her.”

And that was better than she could have said it herself. “It’s self preservation, darling. If I talk to you, I need a good fifteen minutes alone afterwards.”

Emily snorted. “And that’s why you send me dirty texts while you’re teaching?” Then she flushed, remembering they had an audience. She glanced back at Hotch, her mouth twisting in embarrassment. “Not that I check them during work though.”

Hotch smiled coldly. “I think I will excuse myself. I hope you have a pleasant holiday, Agent Prentiss.” He looked at Emma. “Miss Frost.” He slipped away into the crowd.

“What did you say to him?” Emily hissed. “I’ve never seen him that angry.”

“Oh you have no idea! He started it.”

“Emma.”

Emma scowled. “Don’t scold me. I did what you asked. I tried. It’s not my fault if he decided to be a jerk.”

Emily gave up.

* * *

“I’m sorry if Emma said something she shouldn’t have.”

Hotch looked at her, his face impassive. “You don’t have to apologize for her.”

Emily smiled awkwardly. “I’m usually busy apologizing for myself.”

Hotch’s brows drew together. “You mistake me. You shouldn’t have to be with someone you have to apologize for.”

“She’s not that bad,” Emily said, watching him, utterly bewildered, and starting to have the sneaking suspicion that whatever Emma had said to him, her annoyance hadn’t actually been unfounded. “She can be abrasive sometimes, but she’s… she’s a good person. I may apologize for her words, but I never have to apologize for her actions, and that’s what’s important.”

“You never have to apologize for her actions?”

And this was none of his business. Profilers had to know when their judgments were welcome and when they were way overstepping the line. And this was clearly rumor and hearsay, no facts at all. “Has she done something to you? Or have you been listening to rumors? I know what she’s done. I probably know a lot more than you do. But she apologizes for the actions she thinks deserve an apology. It has nothing to do with me.”

Hotch looked unmoved, and Emily frowned. “Look.” She sighed. “This is my family. Emma and Didi are my family now, and if Emma said something because she was being protective of me, she has a right to do that, and I’m not apologizing for that. You may be my boss, but that doesn’t give you the right to criticize my family. And if you said anything to her that made her upset…“

“You deserve someone better than her.”

“I don’t deserve anything! I have her! Maybe only on long weekends and vacations, but I can deal with that, because she comes home when she can. She makes time for us. I’m the one who’s selfish, who risks my life and works too much overtime. I don’t want to think about what I deserve, because I don’t deserve this.”

Emily turned and walked away.

* * *

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him!” Emily said, mainly to her drink. Morgan glanced over.

“You mean Hotch?”

“He’s being… strange. Does he really hate Emma that much?”

Morgan shrugged. “He probably thought Emma would freak and bail when she found out that you had a daughter. And then he thought he’d have a chance with you.”

Emily stared at him. “With who?”

“With you.” Morgan raised an eyebrow.

“Wi- w- seriously?”

Morgan grinned. He waved a hand around. “You know, you’re kind of fucking hot. And after Emma started showing up you only got hotter. Satisfied is a good look on you. And some guys, they don’t really notice people until someone else has taken an interest.” Morgan shrugged. “Miss Frost kind of showed up and took an interest in a big way. And someone might have not realized he wanted a chance until the opportunity was gone.”

“Oh God,” Emily covered her eyes with her hands. “You noticed this?”

“I am a sensitive and emotionally mature male.”

“And I am really, really not.”

“Well, you’re definitely not a male.” Morgan patted her on the shoulder.

Emily glanced uncomfortably over towards Hotch. “Should I feel guilty about this? Did I… do something?”

“No,” said Morgan flatly. “To both questions. If anything you let everyone know that you were taken, and you were happy. Maybe you had problems, but it was really clear that you’re happier when she’s around than when she’s not. And if someone just can’t take a hint, it’s not your fault at all.”

“Emma has someone like that,” Emily said quietly. “I hate him and he hates me. He wanted to keep Didi at the school.”

Morgan looked horrified. “But-“

“He had a reason. It was a stupid one, but he had a reason.” Emily shook her head. “God. It’s like Emma getting mad at me because I was rude to Scott.”

* * *

At least Deirdre wasn’t annoyed with her. She wasn’t paying any attention to her, but she was happily hiding under one of the tables with Henry, devouring their secreted treasure trove of cookies. Jordan was feeding them extra chocolate. Emma was just keeping an eye on things.

“She said you were her family.”

Emma flinched and turned to face Hotch. Had he been drinking? He looked flustered and annoyed, far more than usual. She checked. Emily had snapped at him and walked away. Good for her. She had said they were family? That was… She looked over, finding Emily talking to Morgan, looking fairly miserable. She had told Hotch they were family. What did that even mean?

“So?”

“Why are you here? She’s not yours. You’re not family.”

His surface thoughts burned. He thought Emily was being manipulated by her, mentally overcome and controlled. She was different now, he realized that at least. And she was. She was more confident, more assertive, not as reckless or as desperately heroic as she had been, and he thought that meant there was something wrong with her? Emma went pale with anger. It took all her self-control to keep from lashing out at this man’s mind, grabbing a rough handful of painful memories and twisting.

“You don’t understand at all, do you?” she said softly. “Deirdre is mine, and Emily is mine, and if you even look at my property in the wrong way, I am not responsible for what I will do to you.”

And she didn’t touch him. She would not lower herself enough to make his hateful theories true. But apparently the look on her face was terrifying enough. He ran, like a puppy with his tail between his legs.

* * *

“Hey.” This time Emily was the one to break the personal space bubble and lean in, wrapping her arms around Emma’s waist. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you when you said Hotch was being a jerk.”

“You believe me now?”

“He was a jerk to me too.”

“I may… have fixed that problem.”

Emily looked at her, disbelief on her face, but there was no lack of understanding. Then she sighed, and leaned her head against Emma’s shoulder. “Oh Emma.”

“I didn’t touch him. I wanted to though. I just scared him.” Emma smiled, but only half way. “I couldn’t make you a liar.”

Emily smiled into her neck. “You’re probably a better person than I am right now.”

“And why would you say that?”

“You don’t think I would lobotomize Scott if I could?”

* * *

They went home then, put Didi to bed with a suitably traumatizing episode regarding the Ghost of Christmas Present, and collapsed on the sofa.

“I hate Christmas movies,” Emma said flatly.

Emily leaned back against her shoulder, letting out as small sigh. “Me too,” she said. They didn’t turn them off though. There was something about Christmas movies that was like a train wreck. You just had to watch it happen.

Emma’s arms looped around Emily’s middle as things started to get worse, and when the man was on the bridge, looking down into the icy river below, her grip tightened. Emily made a sound, looking up at her. Emma looked back, but couldn’t say it. She leaned into her instead, burying her face in her hair.

<< Sometimes I think I’ve made that wish too many times. But this time, maybe it’s selfish, but even if things would be better for everyone, I’d never give this up to wish I had never been born. >>

12/24

“What are you doing?” Emma wandered in to the kitchen and over to the espresso machine.

Emily’s hands were all floury and she had her laptop open on the counter.

Emma leaned over and eyed the concoction. “Are you kneading?”

Emily glared. “You said I was cooking tonight. Go away.”

Emma opened the lid of the pan bubbling on the stove and peered in. “Are you making beans?”

“Out!”

Emma rescued her coffee and evaded floury hands, escaping into the living room. She dropped on to the sofa and put her feet up.

“There’s never anything to do the morning of Christmas Eve.”

“If you’re not cooking!” Emily yelled from the kitchen.

Didi came out of her room, rubbing her eyes. “Is it Christmas yet?”

“Not yet.”

She crawled up onto the couch into Emma’s lap. She investigated the coffee, made a face and then curled up, and to all appearances went back to sleep. Emma thought it was a good idea and followed suit.

* * *

“I’m just really not sure that this is a good idea.” Emily held the phone on her shoulder and prodded her spice cabinet. “So what am I supposed to do again? Put a tea bag into the pot?”

“That’s how I learned to cook Indian lentils. I’ve never made Ukrainian ones before.”

Emily groaned. “God, what am I doing?”

On the other end, Ro laughed. “You’re making Didi and Emma eat lentils for Christmas dinner. Tell me there’s some sadism at work here.”

“Maybe,” Emily grinned. “I already got mocked for kneading. And no one is offering to help.”

* * *

Things were rising and settling, and Emily emerged from the kitchen.

“I’m bored,” said Emma, petulantly.

“Me too,” chimed in Didi.

Emily glared at both of them. There was a Christmas movie on, and Didi’s entire box of crayons were spread across the floor. There seemed to be efforts on the scattered papers from both of them.

“How about we clean the house?”

Twin unimpressed looks pinned her to the wall.

“You could have helped me cook.”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “You threw me out of the kitchen.”

“You were mocking my kneading!”

“Still bored,” whined Didi.

Emily checked her watch. “We could go to church?”

Didi cringed, and Emma made a face.

“Church is boring,” stated Didi emphatically.

“Not in the mood for sanctimonious condescension right now.”

Emily grinned. She had known that wouldn’t go over well, but just wanted to see them both shoot her down in exactly the same way. “Walk to the park?”

This was received with general approbation and they put on their coats and headed down to the street. It was only a few blocks to the nearest park with a playground. Once there, Didi took off for the slide.

Emma shifted her weight a few times. Emily watched her and waited for her to speak.

“Do you want to spar?”

Emily started, not expecting that. She glanced around, but the park was empty. They probably wouldn’t get arrested this time. “Okay,” she said, and started taking off her coat.

Emily liked sparring with Emma. It had started with an insult, of course, when she had ended up concussed again because an unsub had gotten in a lucky shot. Emma, picking her up from the hospital, since she mysteriously always showed up whenever Emily was injured, had glared at her. “Do you even know how to fight?”

Emily had glared back. “Of course I know how to fight.”

And then she had spent the next three days throwing objects of various size and weight at Emily and telling her that she was a disgrace to the federal government. Emily finally had enough and, just to demonstrate, threw a punch, which Emma blocked with such a derisive expression on her face that Emily had to hit her, and that escalated into them breaking a table lamp.

They tried to do it outside now.

When the coats had been piled up on one of the swings, they started circling each other slowly, trying to work up a reason to start the fight. Emily glanced at Emma’s outfit, ponytail, t-shirt.

“You’re wearing sneakers?”

Emma shrugged. “What of it?”

“You were planning this, weren’t you?”

Emma grinned. “What can I say? I was bored.”

“And you needed to hit something.”

“I thought it might as well be you.”

“Bet you can’t.”

And that was all that was necessary. Emma moved in. The first one would be a feint, a punch. And then her balance shifted, and Emily skidded backwards to avoid the kick. Emma saw her overreach to get out of range, and redoubled for another shot. And Emily stepped in instead, to the side, and reached out, just flicking her nose with two fingers.

“Point for me.”

Emma lunged for her and grabbed the front of her shirt. Emily twisted, hooking a foot around her ankle, trying to bring her down, but Emma stepped in, knocking her off balance, and as Emily squirmed to get free her shirt rode up and got caught under her arms. She couldn’t move without either losing her shirt entirely or getting choked by the collar.

“Okay,” she managed, trying not to laugh. “I yield. Give me my shirt back.”

“I would,” Emma replied. “But I think I’m stuck.”

“You are both idiots,” said Didi, watching them flatly from a swing.

* * *

“Seriously? You’re making us suffer Ukrainian food because we wouldn’t let you take us to church?” Emma was grinning though, so she wasn’t actually annoyed. It was probably a result of the shower. It had been a good shower.

“It’s not really Ukrainian. And it’s entirely sauerkraut free.”

“Thank god for small mercies.”

Didi looked suspiciously at the table. “It’s fish.” She eyed Emily. “And beans.”

Emily gave her a look. “Christmas is a fasting day, not a feasting day.”

Didi gave her a look right back, indicating, ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I know you’re wrong anyway.’

Emily had given up on the Ukrainian lentils and had followed Ro’s directions to make Indian ones instead. Cod was boring so she had shaken Cajun spice mix over it until it was black and red before frying it, and the bobal’ki hadn’t risen properly and were as hard as rocks, though thoroughly drenched in honey and sprinkled with sesame seeds. But the rice was fine.

“Yuck,” said Didi.

“This is what we eat for Christmas,” Emily said flatly.

Didi turned her gaze to her M’ma. “Really?”

Emma grinned. “Oh yes. It’s a tradition.”

While Didi was busy being shocked and horrified, Emma grinned at the chef. She made a vee with her fingers. << That’s number two. >>

* * *

“I want to stay up and wait for Santa!”

Emily glared at the small child, and then glared at Emma for good measure, since she had been teasing her all evening, lounging around barefoot in Emily’s pajama bottoms with her reading glasses on, and Emily really, really wanted to go to bed.

“If you stay up, he won’t come.”

“How does he know if I’m awake or not?”

“He knows because he knows if you’re being bad. And staying up past your bedtime is bad.”

“How does he know if I’m being bad?” Emma flexed her toes, and rolled over on her side, so it suddenly became very apparent that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Because he’s a mutant,” Emily finally invented. “He’s… got a special kind of telepathy, and he can read your brainwaves to know if you’re being bad.”

Didi considered this. “If I was being bad but I thought I was being good, would he get good brainwaves or bad ones?”

“Go to bed! He can read my brainwaves too, and they are sending very clearly right now that Deirdre Victoria Frost is being bad.”

Didi stuck her tongue out and then ran for her bedroom. “I want a story! M’ma!”

Emily turned her glare to Emma. “Your daughter wants a story. I am going to close the house and go to bed. I expect you to join me, in one half hour, naked, all right?”

Emma grinned lazily. “Are you going to order me around there too?”

“Story now. Get moving.”

“I want this to be a tradition.”

12/25

“It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas!”

Didi exclaimed, bouncing up and down in the middle of the bed. Emily groaned and pulled a pillow over her head. “Why do you have to be a normal child in all the really annoying ways?” she mumbled and then stuck her hand out. “Shirt,” she commanded.

Didi, who had presciently collected two shirts off the floor before climbing on the bed handed one over. She was used to the situation by now. Her kindergarten teacher, on the other hand, had been quite a bit more discombobulated when, on being instructed to keep her t-shirt on during naptime, she had informed her that ‘Mommy always sleeps naked when M’ma comes home.’ “Presents now?”

Emma curled herself more firmly into Emily’s naked back and buried her face in her hair. “Make coffee and then we’ll see,” she muttered.

“I can’t make coffee,” Didi complained. “Mommy says I can’t stand on the stool, and if I don’t stand on the stool I can’t reach the machine.”

Emma peered at her. “You can’t make coffee?”

Didi shook her head.

“God. Just tell me-” Emma demanded rhetorically. “What is the point of a minion that can’t make coffee?”

* * *

Emily opened the box, looked inside, and quickly shut the lid again, her face turning red. “You-“

Emma leaned back and grinned. “I know you wanted it. And now I get to enjoy it too.”

Emily evaded her eyes, and they focused on Didi tearing into the next brightly wrapped object with her name on it.

“Didi, who’s that from? You have to not lose all the cards!”

“It’s from ‘Uncle Logan,’” Didi read, giving her an irritated look. Emma and Emily exchanged a bewildered glance. Didi tore into the gift. “A pony!”

It was a pink My Little Pony, with blue hair, and wings. Emma covered her mouth, tucking her knees up, and still let out a fiercely repressed squeak of laughter. “Oh, god. Logan.”

* * *

“You found it,” Jubilee said quietly through the phone.

“It wasn’t that difficult,” Emma responded dryly. “I have minions. They can even make coffee. And I have a private jet.”

“Just... you know, thanks.”

Emma smiled wryly, and then caught sight of something she ought to have been paying attention to in the corner of her eye. “Um, you’re welcome. I have to go.”

* * *

“Why is the kitchen smoking?”

“Your fucking toaster!” Emma was scrabbling at what looked like a black crust of bread with a knife and sucking on her burnt fingers.

Emily laughed and grabbed a dishtowel to wave away the smoke. “My toaster is fine. Are you seriously not even able to make toast? And you mock my cooking.”

“I can make toast!” Emma snapped back. “I just got distracted.”

Emily sauntered up to her and bumped into her, catching her around her shoulders with the dishtowel. “I win,” she said, and kissed her teasingly. Emma grumbled but didn’t pull away, letting their foreheads rest against each other.

“Stop distracting me,” she muttered. Emily just grinned. “What the fuck are we doing for dinner?”

“I think the Chinese place on the corner is still open.”

“Thank fucking God.”

* * *

“So,” Emily said, awkwardly. She hadn’t worn this sort of thing since she was sixteen. “Does it look okay?”

A delicious grin spread across Emma’s face, and she licked her lips. “Oh yes. You know, you would have made a wonderful black queen.”

“Really?”

“Oh most definitely.” And Emma tugged petulantly on the ropes that bound her to the bedpost.

* * *

Emily’s breathing was soft and steady under her hands. Her skin was warm, a little too warm for comfort maybe, but Emma curled into her anyways, tucking her head against her shoulder so her nose was just behind Emily’s ear and her breath ghosted along her neck.

In the end presents were just things, commodities, replaceable. And Holidays were just days, days you were told on which to remember to be grateful and be happy, but you generally forgot. You were supposed to be humble. And perhaps it was worth trying.

Her fingers trailed over Emily’s stomach, and Emily shifted, letting out a small sigh. She rolled onto her back, farther into Emma’s arms and blinked up at her sleepily. “Not asleep?”

“I’m fine,” Emma murmured back. She shouldn’t wake her, not after thoroughly wearing her out. And it wasn’t as if she couldn’t sleep because she was upset. How could she be upset? She had run so hard and so far, as fast as she could, and never left behind the demons crouched on her shoulders. And she was unbearably grateful that this one hadn’t let go. There was no safety in boring and normal, but you could pretend there was.

Emily nuzzled into her, pressing a lazy kiss against her shoulder.

<< Would you still want me if you didn’t need me? >>

Emily was too sleepy to think clearly, but her puzzlement shone through the clouds of exhaustion. “I never needed you,” she mumbled. “Never needed you, just wanted you. Always wanted you. And you needed something.”

“And you thought you fit the bill?”

“Go to sleep.” Emily squirmed slightly, skin on skin, until they were tangled more comfortably. Emma tightened her arms around her, threading her fingers through her hair. She could feel the flutter of her heartbeat against her chest and let her eyes drift closed.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Emma whispered into her hair. “I know I’m selfish, and maybe its selfish, but I’m not letting you go again. The fucking world can go hang. If it means I can keep you even for just a little while, I’ll go to hell for it. If I have to give you up to redeem myself, it’s not worth it.”

Emily made a small noise, but didn’t open her eyes. She just moved closer and burrowed more deeply into Emma’s shoulder.

“You’d probably hate me if I were here every day. But whenever you want me…”

Emily stretched against her, and her mouth moved, breath brushing against her neck as if the words were hers too.

“I’m yours.”

And maybe that was a present that was worth giving.

FIN