nike_ravus (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nike_ravus) wrote2010-01-09 10:52 pm
nike_ravus) wrote2010-01-09 10:52 pm
Entry tags:
Fake Empire 9
Title: Fake Empire 9
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![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wizened_cynic for the concept of quantum babies. She does it much better than me. Title stolen from the song by The National.
Apologies: I dunno. Too depressed to apologize if its crap.
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 Empire 8 (JJ goes off the deep end)
JJ left by dinner and Didi climbed onto her stool and eyed the salmon and rice suspiciously.
“It smells funny.”
Emily was prepared for this and stared her down. “It smells like fish, which is what it is. Taste it.”
Didi prodded it with her fork. “Don’t want to.”
Emily breathed in and out once slowly. “There isn’t anything else. Eat it or don’t.”
Didi made a face.
“Is M’ma coming home tonight?”
Emily froze, her mouth partly open. “Tonight? She’s… she’s at school.”
Didi frowned. “But when’s M’ma coming home?”
Emily didn’t know how to answer that. She changed the subject instead. “Eat your fish.”
Later Didi said she wanted Emma to read to her. She cried, and Emily went into another room and shut the door, waiting for it to be over. What could she do? She sank against the door, covering her face. Why did this have to be so hard? And why was she the one who was supposed to do it all?
Her cell phone was all but staring her in the face. She picked it up and pressed speed dial one and send.
“I hate you,” Emily said flatly, when it was picked up.
“Do you now?” was the inquiring response.
“Why don’t you have to explain why you’re not here? Or why you can’t read to her, or why JJ isn’t her personal slave anymore?”
“Excuse me?”
Emily blinked, was that offense?
“You did say Jennifer’s name, am I correct?”
“Yes.”
Emma started to laugh.
“Hey! This isn’t funny!”
“Actually, I believe it is.”
“Emma.”
“Give Deirdre the phone, darling. If you’re angry with me because I’m not explaining things, I will take on that responsibility.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
* * *
“M’ma’s coming home in fifty nine days,” Didi said with a grin as she crawled into bed with Emily. (Theoretically she had her own bed now, but she was generally uninterested in it, and Emily had gotten used to her being there in the mornings, and it hadn’t been made yet, so it truly was a bed only in theory.)
“Is she now?” Emily asked, amused. Fifty-nine might just be enough time to let a child forget about a promise.
“Yep! It's the…” she thought for a moment. “Day the grade is due. Then she can come home!”
She snuggled into Emily’s arms, and for the first time she wasn’t a burden, or a crying monster. She was sweet and cute and babbling on and on about Emma’s phone call. And she was warm and twisted her fingers into Emily’s hair. And she loved her, inaccountably.
* * *
Deirdre was unimpressed by Emily’s work outfit. She was even less impressed being told that she was going to have a babysitter. The kid had been procured by JJ and was considered her best sitter.
Emily had a far more difficult time leaving than she expected. She hung by the door, even after Didi had forgotten her and busied herself with drawing. There was something in her that was afraid, that perhaps if she turned her back, Deirdre would return to wherever she had come from, and never be seen again.
And perhaps everyone was right. She had wanted this, but it seemed too impossible, to precarious to let herself believe it. It wasn’t perfect. It was complicated and confusing, but it was almost… almost all right.
* * *
Garcia grinned at Emily, who had stopped, stunned, in front of the bulletin board. Didi’s smiling face graced it, in addition to shots of Henry, Jack, and Reid’s mother.
She turned to Garcia. “Everyone knows?”
“Well, pretty much.”
“Meaning what?” Emily asked, desperation tingeing her tone. Garcia looked guilty. “Does Strauss know?”
“She may have spotted a picture and put two and two together. Doesn’t miss a trick, that woman.”
Rosel, the Haitian janitor, came up behind Emily and patted her arm. “Congratulations, Miss Prentiss.”
Emily whimpered. Garcia looked shocked. “It’s Rosel. He knows everything.”
Hotch stormed past, paused, backtracked, looked at the picture and then at Emily, and frowned deeply.
“See me in my office, one half hour.”
Emily groaned. Garcia patted her arm and then passed her a folder. “This has everything you’ll need, birth certificate, adoption records, nursery school records, news reports, police reports. She even has a passport and a social security number, though I doubt she’ll be putting money into her account any time soon.”
“What?” Emily stared, flipping through the file of very authentic looking documents. “How did you do this?”
Garcia grinned. “A goddess never reveals her secrets.”
Emily paused on the birth certificate. “She’s mine,” she said quietly.
“The hospital records are just behind it. Your double said she was born 4 years and 28 days ago, so I made her birthday January 25th. Try to be unspecific about the year. Reid’s already worked out that she has to be from an alternate timeline.”
“Who on earth is Emmett F. Jones?”
“I was trying to be subtle.”
“Oh.” Emily made a face. The name Emmett made her think of a burly football player with a crew-cut.
“I was talking to Emma, and we thought it would be better to keep her name out of the records, just in case less savory members of her family or of the group of her former friends catch wind of it.”
Emily blinked. “Why did you ask her these things and not me?”
Garcia shrugged. “She was online while I was working on it. You were busy having JJ raid your wine cabinet.”
Emily frowned. “You talk to her too much. It makes me nervous.”
Garcia rolled her eyes. “She only calls me when she’s worried about you. After I put her on my facebook photo alerts list she stopped bothering me so much. Sometimes I send her videos though.” Garcia grinned. “And that time you got the blood under your vest and your shirt had to be cut off…”
“You didn’t.”
* * *
Hotch was standing behind his desk, looking at the light coming through the blinds. He looked particularly serious, and Emily awkwardly slid into the seat.
“This must have been a shock,” he said, flatly, suggesting that it was more of a shock to him than anyone.
Emily pushed her hair back from her forehead nervously. “Yeah. It was. She just… showed up.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t know.”
Emily blinked, rather confused. “Well, no one knew.” She was pretty certain that if anyone was going to receive preliminary notification it would have been her.
Hotch actually looked hurt at that. “I know you have… other recourses.” His expression twitched slightly. “But I wanted to make certain that you knew you always have support here. And if you need anything…”
Emily smiled weakly. “It’s alright. JJ’s already been giving me more help than I can handle.”
She slipped out as quickly as she could. Morgan arched his eyebrows at her.
“God, that was awkward.”
Morgan chuckled. “So, how is the …daring Ms. Frost? You should have seen him after JJ mentioned where you’d gone.”
Emily felt her face flame red. No one was ever going to forget that Christmas party from the year before. She should have realized that that was the reason for Hotch’s weirdness.
“Oh, and Garcia told him that you had the kid, gave her up for adoption, and just got her back because her parents were killed in a car wreck.”
Emily froze.
“She mentioned that, right?”
“No.”
Morgan suddenly looked hesitant. “Do you… do you think I can come over and meet her?”
“Um,” Emily blinked, bewildered by the request. “Of course. She’s…”
Suddenly there was an arm around her and JJ cut her off. “She’s a mini-Emma. So be prepared. In fact, Emily, I think we need to talk, as my best babysitter has just called me crying.”
“Oh, Christ.”
But at least the madness had gone out of JJ’s expression.
Part 10
* * *
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: I dunno. Too depressed to apologize if its crap.
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 Empire 8 (JJ goes off the deep end)
JJ left by dinner and Didi climbed onto her stool and eyed the salmon and rice suspiciously.
“It smells funny.”
Emily was prepared for this and stared her down. “It smells like fish, which is what it is. Taste it.”
Didi prodded it with her fork. “Don’t want to.”
Emily breathed in and out once slowly. “There isn’t anything else. Eat it or don’t.”
Didi made a face.
“Is M’ma coming home tonight?”
Emily froze, her mouth partly open. “Tonight? She’s… she’s at school.”
Didi frowned. “But when’s M’ma coming home?”
Emily didn’t know how to answer that. She changed the subject instead. “Eat your fish.”
Later Didi said she wanted Emma to read to her. She cried, and Emily went into another room and shut the door, waiting for it to be over. What could she do? She sank against the door, covering her face. Why did this have to be so hard? And why was she the one who was supposed to do it all?
Her cell phone was all but staring her in the face. She picked it up and pressed speed dial one and send.
“I hate you,” Emily said flatly, when it was picked up.
“Do you now?” was the inquiring response.
“Why don’t you have to explain why you’re not here? Or why you can’t read to her, or why JJ isn’t her personal slave anymore?”
“Excuse me?”
Emily blinked, was that offense?
“You did say Jennifer’s name, am I correct?”
“Yes.”
Emma started to laugh.
“Hey! This isn’t funny!”
“Actually, I believe it is.”
“Emma.”
“Give Deirdre the phone, darling. If you’re angry with me because I’m not explaining things, I will take on that responsibility.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
* * *
“M’ma’s coming home in fifty nine days,” Didi said with a grin as she crawled into bed with Emily. (Theoretically she had her own bed now, but she was generally uninterested in it, and Emily had gotten used to her being there in the mornings, and it hadn’t been made yet, so it truly was a bed only in theory.)
“Is she now?” Emily asked, amused. Fifty-nine might just be enough time to let a child forget about a promise.
“Yep! It's the…” she thought for a moment. “Day the grade is due. Then she can come home!”
She snuggled into Emily’s arms, and for the first time she wasn’t a burden, or a crying monster. She was sweet and cute and babbling on and on about Emma’s phone call. And she was warm and twisted her fingers into Emily’s hair. And she loved her, inaccountably.
* * *
Deirdre was unimpressed by Emily’s work outfit. She was even less impressed being told that she was going to have a babysitter. The kid had been procured by JJ and was considered her best sitter.
Emily had a far more difficult time leaving than she expected. She hung by the door, even after Didi had forgotten her and busied herself with drawing. There was something in her that was afraid, that perhaps if she turned her back, Deirdre would return to wherever she had come from, and never be seen again.
And perhaps everyone was right. She had wanted this, but it seemed too impossible, to precarious to let herself believe it. It wasn’t perfect. It was complicated and confusing, but it was almost… almost all right.
* * *
Garcia grinned at Emily, who had stopped, stunned, in front of the bulletin board. Didi’s smiling face graced it, in addition to shots of Henry, Jack, and Reid’s mother.
She turned to Garcia. “Everyone knows?”
“Well, pretty much.”
“Meaning what?” Emily asked, desperation tingeing her tone. Garcia looked guilty. “Does Strauss know?”
“She may have spotted a picture and put two and two together. Doesn’t miss a trick, that woman.”
Rosel, the Haitian janitor, came up behind Emily and patted her arm. “Congratulations, Miss Prentiss.”
Emily whimpered. Garcia looked shocked. “It’s Rosel. He knows everything.”
Hotch stormed past, paused, backtracked, looked at the picture and then at Emily, and frowned deeply.
“See me in my office, one half hour.”
Emily groaned. Garcia patted her arm and then passed her a folder. “This has everything you’ll need, birth certificate, adoption records, nursery school records, news reports, police reports. She even has a passport and a social security number, though I doubt she’ll be putting money into her account any time soon.”
“What?” Emily stared, flipping through the file of very authentic looking documents. “How did you do this?”
Garcia grinned. “A goddess never reveals her secrets.”
Emily paused on the birth certificate. “She’s mine,” she said quietly.
“The hospital records are just behind it. Your double said she was born 4 years and 28 days ago, so I made her birthday January 25th. Try to be unspecific about the year. Reid’s already worked out that she has to be from an alternate timeline.”
“Who on earth is Emmett F. Jones?”
“I was trying to be subtle.”
“Oh.” Emily made a face. The name Emmett made her think of a burly football player with a crew-cut.
“I was talking to Emma, and we thought it would be better to keep her name out of the records, just in case less savory members of her family or of the group of her former friends catch wind of it.”
Emily blinked. “Why did you ask her these things and not me?”
Garcia shrugged. “She was online while I was working on it. You were busy having JJ raid your wine cabinet.”
Emily frowned. “You talk to her too much. It makes me nervous.”
Garcia rolled her eyes. “She only calls me when she’s worried about you. After I put her on my facebook photo alerts list she stopped bothering me so much. Sometimes I send her videos though.” Garcia grinned. “And that time you got the blood under your vest and your shirt had to be cut off…”
“You didn’t.”
* * *
Hotch was standing behind his desk, looking at the light coming through the blinds. He looked particularly serious, and Emily awkwardly slid into the seat.
“This must have been a shock,” he said, flatly, suggesting that it was more of a shock to him than anyone.
Emily pushed her hair back from her forehead nervously. “Yeah. It was. She just… showed up.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t know.”
Emily blinked, rather confused. “Well, no one knew.” She was pretty certain that if anyone was going to receive preliminary notification it would have been her.
Hotch actually looked hurt at that. “I know you have… other recourses.” His expression twitched slightly. “But I wanted to make certain that you knew you always have support here. And if you need anything…”
Emily smiled weakly. “It’s alright. JJ’s already been giving me more help than I can handle.”
She slipped out as quickly as she could. Morgan arched his eyebrows at her.
“God, that was awkward.”
Morgan chuckled. “So, how is the …daring Ms. Frost? You should have seen him after JJ mentioned where you’d gone.”
Emily felt her face flame red. No one was ever going to forget that Christmas party from the year before. She should have realized that that was the reason for Hotch’s weirdness.
“Oh, and Garcia told him that you had the kid, gave her up for adoption, and just got her back because her parents were killed in a car wreck.”
Emily froze.
“She mentioned that, right?”
“No.”
Morgan suddenly looked hesitant. “Do you… do you think I can come over and meet her?”
“Um,” Emily blinked, bewildered by the request. “Of course. She’s…”
Suddenly there was an arm around her and JJ cut her off. “She’s a mini-Emma. So be prepared. In fact, Emily, I think we need to talk, as my best babysitter has just called me crying.”
“Oh, Christ.”
But at least the madness had gone out of JJ’s expression.
Part 10
* * *
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