Human 5/7?

[nike_ravus]

  Title: Human [5/7?]
Author: Alsike
Rating: PG-15
Fandom: X-Men/Criminal Minds
Pairing: Emma Frost/Emily Prentiss
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men or Criminal Minds. There will be a cameo by a character from another fandom as well.  I, however, was not the first person to cross over these two fandoms, and am completely stealing the idea from Argentine's Jubilee and Fifty-Foot Janine.  (Another fic which is hugely better than mine, and I consider to be basically canon).

Apologies:  The plot has begun to show its hand.  But i doubt it will be just one more chapter.  Especially because i have floating threads that are not tying together.

Summary: Emily's mother is dead, but her memory lives on, as does her desire to manipulate Emily's life away from serial killers and towards politics.  But sometimes, serial killers and politicians are not that far removed.

 

Chapter 5

 

“God, not here.”

Janine had turned so pale she was nearly blue.  Jubilee stood in front of her, electricity running in waves down her fingers, as she sought an enemy.

Emily glanced from the body to the two defensive women.  “What’s going on?”

“There’s some creepy stalker guy following Janine around and killing these poor homeless people.  We were hoping for a break by jetting off to New York.”

“Do the police know about this?”

Jubilee rolled her eyes.  “Duh.  But they won’t accept that it’s a stalker and keep on trying to poke holes in her alibi.  Actually, Nini tried to bully them into asking your team for help.  I guess they didn’t.”

“I should call JJ and check.”

Emma put a hand on her shoulder as well as on Janine’s and pushed them down the street.  “Actually, we should clear the area before the curious officers over there decide to take an interest.”

*            *            *

It was ten o’clock, Henry was asleep, and for once they were both home on a Friday night.  JJ was settled in Will’s lap, an uninteresting movie playing barely a degree above mute, and kissing his jaw, not put off by the prickle of day old stubble.

Something buzzed against her thigh, and she made a wordless sound and ground into it.  Will stiffened.

“JJ, is that your phone?”

“What?”

The phone buzzed again and then started blasting a Midi version of the Second Brandenburg Concerto.  Henry started to wail in stereo.

“Shit!” JJ rolled off of Will’s lap and fished around in her jeans for her phone.

Will sighed and levered himself off the couch, heading in to check on Henry.

JJ glowered at the name on the phone.  “This had better be good, Emily,” she snapped.

“Do you know anything about a serial killer in Sacramento whose been killing homeless people around the state senate buildings?”

JJ gulped.  “We… we just did the profile today.  It was just a consult, not our jurisdiction.”

“Well, he’s just killed in New York, so it’s our jurisdiction now.”

*            *            *

Janine sat with her knees up on the edge of Emily’s bed, staring at the tiny bobbing heads in the Skype windows of her laptop.

Jubilee insinuated herself behind her, but every once in a while she’d jump off and pace to the door.  Emma sat back out of sight of the camera, and seemingly not paying any attention.

“What was the profile you came up with?”

“Morgan pulled the final draft,” said JJ.  “Most of the connections were his.”

“Yeah,” Derek leaned back a little so they could all see he was shirtless.  “I figured it was a white dude, thirty to fifty, just realized his superstar status isn’t as stable as he thought.”

Emma laughed.  “You do realize that you’ve just described ninety percent of the people here?  Is he a mutant or not?”

“Emma’s there?” hissed JJ, totally forgetting that it was not a private line.

Garcia chuckled from behind her window.  “Emily, I thought you said this party was business.”

“He could be either a mutant or not,” interjected Reid.  “If he is a mutant, he’s a powerful one.  Someone who didn’t have to work very hard for what he has, and now considers it his right to be here.  If he’s human, his success came with other advantages, like good looks or inherited wealth.  Something happened recently that made him realize that it wasn’t all plum pudding from here on out, and he decided to do something about it.”

“You have ruled out exactly no one,” drawled Emma.

“The guy thinks he’s in control,” said Morgan.  “He’s got a plan and he’s putting it into action.  I doubt he’s getting his hands dirty, so he’s probably hired someone else to do the actual killing, leaving him with a squeaky clean alibi.”

“And the lackey is either a mutant, or a human who kills with toxic mutant blood.”

“Shit,” muttered Emma.  Everyone looked at her.  She rubbed her forehead.  “I can’t do this as fast as I used to.  And every third person in this hotel is has a nefarious plot going.”

“Telepathic evidence is not admissible,” snapped JJ.

“I wasn’t planning on bringing a court of law into this.  If people terrify and torture one of my children, they don’t get that privilege.”

Janine laughed weakly, but Jubilee turned away.  Emily breathed in through her nose, trying to count to ten.  She glanced at the computer.  “Sorry guys,” she said, and closed the screen.  “Emma…”

“What?” Emma snapped irritably in reply.

“This is my job, my expertise.  You don’t have to go off on him.”

“Because you did so well last time.”

“I can handle this!”

“You don’t even understand what you’re trying to do!  Every single person here is capable of this.  Even if you find the culprit and arrest him, the rest of the room will mark you down as a target.”

“I can’t let you go vigilante.”  She didn’t know what would happen, not exactly.  But Jubilee had told her about Emma’s sister.  She had tried to be equivocal, but Emily knew well enough that Emma would strike back when cornered, and that she often followed a skewed line of reasoning into ugly mistakes.  And this was a student who was being targeted.  When it came to her students, Emma didn’t have much of a concept of restraint.

Emily was an idiot, a stubborn frustrating idiot.  She had seen her pale and weak and injured too many times, and still she blindly charged towards her own death. 

Emma had had enough.  “You can’t let me do anything.  You are a weak, ineffectual human, and if you won’t listen to reason, go ahead, get yourself killed.  I will solve this my way.  Try to see if your toothless justice can keep up.”

Emma stalked out the door.

*            *            *

It was clear that Emily was too suicidal to be worth protecting.  But just walking away was so much harder than it ought to be.  You don’t save those who don’t want to be rescued.  It’s not worth it.

Emma slumped against the wall outside of Emily’s room and reached out with her mind.  This was still something that came easily, sliding in, brushing up against Emily’s shields, but not enough so she could feel it.  Emily was anxious.  It was clear, even from the outside.  She was speaking to Janine and Jubilee, interrogating them about the case, about potential suspects. 

It was also clear that the profile had come as a surprise to her former students.  When you pictured a stalker or a killer, you rarely imagined one of your professional colleagues.  But anyone had the potential to kill if they felt it was necessary.  It wasn’t as difficult as some made it out to be.

She left the connection open, thin and weak as it was.  It would give her a little warning at least, if Emily decided to do something particularly stupid.

She had made it to the door of her own suite when her phone rang.  Scowling, she checked the number, but didn’t recognize it.

“Hello?”

“Hello Emma,” said the voice.  “You don’t know me, but we have some acquaintances in common.  I have some information that might help you, if you help me.”

*            *            *

Emily rolled over in bed and groaned at her exhaustion.  She had not slept very well.  The tension of being on a case plus the fact that her body registered Emma’s presence, knew what that meant and was very disappointed at not getting it, led to her tossing and turning all night.

Someone was knocking on her door.

Her uncle Edward was on the other side, smiling nervously.  “Good morning, Emily.  The meeting starts in a few minutes.  I was hoping that you would join me?”

Emily cringed internally as she was led into the room.  Jubilee would have a field day with her sleazy loser game here.  The looks she received were more putrid and suggestive than the night before, and she felt the hum of unguarded telepathic communication.  Something scratched against her shields and stiffened them, sealing all the cracks and locks.  Sebastian glanced up at her as she did that, blinking in surprise.

Emma came in late, sauntering through the door as cool as anything, completely impervious to the irritated looks.  A particularly sharp one came from Lorne, the bald man.  But she just glanced over at Emily and flashed her a grin.

Emily swallowed hard.  That smile was not one that should have greeted her the day after that kind of fight.  Emma’s instantly recognizable touch brushed against her shields.

<< I need to talk to you afterwards. >>

<< Alright. >>  Emily sent back, utterly bewildered by the situation, staring at her hands so no one would think they were speaking.  It was pretty obvious that everyone knew something was going on.

<< Tony spilled. >> Emma clarified.  << I’ll rip him apart for that. >>

The first order of business was patting and congratulating Roger Crooke.  He had been appointed to run on the democratic ticket for the US Senate.

“California has an odd habit of electing Republicans on a state level and Democrats on a national level,” said Richard Kimble, shaking his head.  “We’ve selected Bruce Allan as the fall guy for the Republicans in this race.  But he should have a good shot at the gubernatorial post next go round.  If he stays nice, we’ll make sure he has that.”

Sebastian Shaw gave Roger a weak and slithery thump on the back.  “But Crooke’s our man.  A couple terms in the senate, and straight to the white house.”

Kimble nodded sagaciously.

Emily watched sharply as the games were played.  Men bartered for appointments, for nominations, for electoral votes.  There were no party lines here, only a record of which party you ran for, and if you won the barter but the race wasn’t in your favor, there were swaps and plans and special vote collectors that could be hired for a price.

A particularly undecided race was debated for nearly a quarter of an hour.  Shaw shook his head.  “Lord, I wish I still had Tessa.  No one has a head for odds like that girl.”

“It would be best if Pennsylvania started heading blue again, for the next presidential.”

“Weight it, you mean?” asked a young nervous nobody.

“Who’s dead in the water?”

Tony shrugged.  “Why don’t we just leave it open for whoever they produce?  Some local farmer standing up for the GOP.”

Roger Crooke frowned coldly.  “Remember what happened last time we did that?  The Kishi girl got elected.  The Bay Area is a rogue district.  I’m worried for my old seat.  We need to make a plan for that.  Who cares about some Pennsylvanian rotten borough?”

“Janine is a former student of mine,” said Emma.  It seemed offhand and irrelevant, but it was a thrown gauntlet.

“It’s not that we don’t think she’s very intelligent…” started some whining no name.

“But she’s a young female Asian,” said Shaw flatly.  “And an open mutant.  It isn’t worth cultivating her, because she can never advance.”

“There are six Asians in Congress, none are women, and one represents Samoa.”

Roger chuckled.  “As if being a mutant wasn’t hard enough.  Asians aren’t even thought of as being American.  They’re just parasites, taking what this country has to offer before fleeing back home.  They don’t contribute.”

“And what, exactly, have you contributed, Mr. Crooke?” asked Emma disdainfully.

Richard Kimble coughed.  “While this is all very interesting, we do have one more order of business.”  He smiled, and turned to Emily.  “Ms. Prentiss.  We’d like to offer you the opportunity to work with us.”

*          *            *  

 Part 6