Danny Zuko 10: Going Commando
Title: Danny Zuko was a Hot Chick (part 10 of 20)
Author: Alsike
Fandom: X-Men/Criminal Minds x-over
Pairing: Emma Frost/Emily Prentiss
Rating: NC-17
AN/Disclaimer: Not my girls.
Word Count: 675
Citrus Taste Summer Battle Prompt #2. Going Commando
Apologies: I’m going to attempt to post these in chronological order, but I may not always succeed. Either way, they should stand on their own pretty well. Okay, really short and probably out of order, if I ever write the intervening bits. But it's either out of order or nothing at all, so I will deal with it. Now back to desperately rewriting my novel before grad school starts and eats my life.
“Hello short skirt!” Emma exclaimed, amused and went up to Emily, fluffing the loose skirt of her flowered sundress. Emily yelped and held the skirt tightly down, but it was a bit late. “Holy…” Emma grinned. “No underwear?” She grinned wider. “In a skirt?”
“It’s your fault,” Emily snapped. “I have sunburn on my ass.”
“Hey, you were the one who fell asleep outside with your pants down.” Emma moved close to her and ran her hand up the back of Emily’s thigh. “Sure you don’t need me to rub some lotion in?”
Emily smacked her hand away. “I’ve had enough of you touching my ass for a lifetime.”
“It was so hot,” Emma purred. “I’d be gentle.”
“And why don’t I believe you?”
Emma considered this. “Because you know me?”
Emily looked at her for a long moment. It was odd, but she did know her. For someone she had met barely more than a week ago, Emma was easy. She was pretty and crazy and horny all the time. “Maybe I do.”
Emma grinned. “You want to get out of here? We could go downtown, poke around, eat at one of your nasty little authentic restaurants.”
Emily snorted. “You’re offering?”
“What? It sounds like fun.”
Emily stared at her for a moment. It did sound like fun, for her. It was almost as if Emma was saying that doing something that will make you happy, will… No, she couldn’t read too much into it. “There could be shopping.”
Emma laughed, leaning over to pick up her shoulder bag. “Well, you know I’m always up for shopping.”
She wasn’t quite so up for the small church Emily stopped outside that evening. Adobe, with tiled roofs, and a plaster Mary in an alcove surrounded by bright gaudy flowers, and there was noise coming from inside that was not like any church music Emma (a not incredibly strict Episcopalian) had ever heard. Emily tugged her through the archway.
“Wait? Seriously? Church?”
But inside the courtyard was like a party. There was a priest, waving around a censer, but there was a mariachi band, and an old lady in a wheelchair passing out flowers, and tons of food, and Emily just went right up to the old lady and started talking to her in some sort of pidgin italo-spanglish. And then she kissed the old lady on the cheek, just like that, and popped up with two flowers, coming back to Emma.
“It’s the church’s name saint day. It’s a party!”
“It’s not really my kind of party,” Emma said, glancing around uncomfortably.
Emily laughed and patted her cheek. “Stop being so shy.”
“Shy?” Emma was offended, and then she laughed. “Well, I suppose I must be shy compared to the person who isn’t wearing any underwear in church.”
Emily blushed red.
The food was actually excellent, and the band was good, they danced as the sun was setting. Emily’s hands curled around her waist and Emma moved closer to her, tangling her fingers in her hair. And then she ducked her eyes, and Emily blinked, surprised. Her expression was different, not the one that meant she was going to go for her skirt and molest her in public, but a half-embarrassed grin. “I had a good time today,” she said softly.
Emily looked at her, unable to form coherent words, or keep moving. Was today a date? “Oh.”
And Emma darted in, pressing a light kiss half on her cheek and half on her mouth. She pulled away, grinning. “I hope that wasn’t too shocking for the abuela.”
“Since when do you care if poor old people are shocked?”
“I don’t want her to not like you anymore.”
Emily stared at her, and then laughed, pressing her own kiss to Emma’s cheek, nearly at her ear. “I think I need to take you home with me.”
“I’ve already met your mother.”
“Yeah. Not for that.”
Part 11