Danny Zuko 17: Buried Treasure
Title: Danny Zuko was a Hot Chick (part 17 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: 1796
Citrus Taste Summer Battle Prompt # 15. Buried Treasure
Apologies: Clearly I have been missing the angst. ANGST!
“My mother’s back,” Emma said, softly and unhappily. “She was at her spa, but she’s spending the last week here.”
“Oh,” Emily said, not entirely sure what to make of Emma’s tone of voice. “That’s good, isn’t it?”
Emma flashed her a wan smile. “Yeah, sure. It’s just she likes to see each of us separately, so I can’t hang out after tennis.”
“I could… go with you?” Emily offered. It was an odd offer to make. But Emma seemed to shake a little as she spoke, and she didn’t want to make her be alone.
“You wouldn’t want to-“
“I don’t mind. I like spending time with you.”
Emma finally gave her something resembling a real smile. Then she rolled her eyes. “It’s your funeral.”
* * *
Emma dressed formally after her post tennis shower, a white sundress, not the jean skirts and cotton tanktops that she wore to hang around with Emily. She had put an odd sort of mask on, making her face hard and still, not setting her jaw petulantly, just closing down, as if she had retreated deep inside the fortress of her body and closed the gate.
Emily followed her up to the door, where she knocked, and then waited for the call to come inside.
The woman in the room was thin, long faced, and hollow cheeked. Her skin was fine wrinkled tissue paper, tanned, her curled hair a golden wash. She sat wrapped up in a satin duvet at the small vanity table, one elegant claw extended and holding the stem of a martini glass, peering at the figures who had appeared in her doorway.
“Hello?” she inquired, in a cultured wispy simper. “Who is it?”
“It’s Emma, mother.”
The woman blinked a few times, peering harder. “Emma? You seem be so much older whenever I look at you.” Emma’s lips tightened, but she didn’t respond. “You’ve been out in the sun too much. You’re starting to freckle.”
“I don’t freckle,” Emma hissed through her teeth. Emily restrained a smile. She did freckle, right over her shoulders and down her back, and she was obsessive with sunscreen, but it didn’t do much to hinder their spread across her nose and out onto her cheeks.
“Fetch me my pills dear.”
“Mother-“ Emma tried.
“And call for another martini, will you?” She smiled, twiddling the stem in her fingers. “This one seems to have been delivered empty.”
“Mother, this is my friend Emily.”
Mrs. Frost smiled vaguely in Emily’s direction. “Mm,” was all she said. “Where are my pills, dear?”
Emma went over to the bag and started rummaging through it.
“Are you sick?” Emily asked, without thinking about it. Emma shot her a horrified look.
“What?” Mrs. Frost looked at her. “My nerves dear. I can’t have too many people in here at once. Emma!” She snapped it like it was a curse. “My pills!” It was a frantic screech. Emily cringed back. Emma hurriedly slapped the pill bottle into her hand.
“They’re right here!”
“Are you yelling at me?” She was dangerous now.
“Just take them!” Emma yelled clearly this time.
Mrs. Frost rose up out of her satin and feather cocoon and slapped her. “You ungrateful bitch!”
Emma’s hand went to her face. She bent over, seething. “You’re in front of company, mother.”
“Oh!” Mrs. Frost brought her hands up to cover her face and then sank down onto her chairs. “My pills. I need my pills. It’s been too long.” She found the bottle and tried to open it but her hands were shaking too much and the bottle fell on the floor. She let out a desperate cry that sounded more like a wounded animal than anything a human should make. Emma scooped it up and jerked off the top, thrusting it at her as if it were a punch.
“Fucking take them already.”
Mrs. Frost shook a handful into her palm and swallowed them dry. “Oh, Emma dear. Call for a martini, won’t you?”
“You’re not supposed to drink after you take those. Call them yourself. I’m leaving.”
She strode out of the room, past Emily, not even looking at her. Emily hurried after and caught up with her just as she drove her fist brutally into the wall.
“Emma!”
“Don’t fucking say anything!” Emma screamed at her, cupping her hand to her stomach. Emily reached out and grabbed it, and Emma cringed in pain.
“Don’t… don’t do this to yourself.” Emma gave a weak whimper and sagged, the anger leaving.
“Just don't… don’t talk about it,” Emma managed, pressing her head into Emily’s shoulder. “Nothing happened.”
“Okay.” Emily rubbed her back. “Let’s get you some ice.”
* * *
“Hey,” Christian flashed a bright smile. “Tony brought me some stuff. Want to go up on the roof and smoke?”
“Fuck yeah,” Emma said immediately. Emily froze. She looked between the siblings, just a little confused. “Come on.” Emma didn’t bother to ask her. She just caught her wrist and pulled her up the stairs. “I really need this,” Emma told her. “Dibs on your lap.”
Christian had pushed open the door to the roof and stepped through. Emily caught Emma’s hand.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“How often?”
Emma stared at her, looking blank. “What? Christian always shares. Addy doesn’t, but she mostly gets it when she’s going out. Coke and stuff.”
“And… you don’t think there’s something wrong about that?”
Emma frowned, narrowing her eyes. “Says the girl who gets shitfaced at her mom’s parties. Do you have a problem with this?”
Emily clenched her hands into fists at her sides and let them out. She made a small sound of frustration. This was hard, because yesterday, it wouldn’t have been a big deal, but today, today it was a big fucking deal. “No. I mean… Look, I feel like a hypocrite, but have you thought about this?”
“Thought about what?”
“About your mom!”
Emma stiffened, her face turning into an ugly threat. “I told you not to talk about that.”
“I’ve never seen someone act like that before!” Emily turned her head away before continuing. “She hit you.”
“It’s not like she hits hard. She weighs like forty pounds.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point? I hate dealing with her. I know she’s crazy, and it makes me feel like shit. I kind of don’t want to feel like that anymore, so I’m going out there. If you don’t want to come you don’t have to.”
“Your mother’s an addict, Emma!”
“So what?”
“Do you seriously want to be like that?”
Emma recoiled. “I’m never going to be like that.”
“I really don’t want to tell you what to do. But after that, I didn’t want to go near that stuff. And I know it would be a lot easier to deal with if you didn’t have to feel it all the time, but-“
“You’re saying I’m weak,” Emma stated flatly.
Emily gaped. “Uh, no. I really don’t think that’s-“
“Yes it is. You’re saying that my life sucks, and that’s the easy way out. You’d be too strong to take it.”
“I’m not- I’m not saying that. And I really don’t have the right to say anything at all. You’ve seen me at parties. I know I’m bad at talking to people I don’t know, and I know what makes it easier. And I know you’re smart, and that you won’t let people take advantage of you. But I can’t help it. I just want to protect you.”
Emma looked stricken and horrified. “Protect me?”
“I’d rather get naked with you than get high,” Emily offered.
“Wait, no, shut up. You want to protect me?”
“I know I can’t. But I can’t help wanting to.”
“Do I read as some sort of victim to you? Because I can handle this! I can handle things on my own.”
“ You shouldn’t have to!”
“It’s none of your fucking business!”
“Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think that this doesn’t make me feel helpless all the fucking time? And I know I’m making it worse. I don’t want to be the one to… to open your flank, so don’t blame me for trying to hold on and not let you get hurt while I can still do anything about it.”
Emma looked at her, not as angry as she had been. She glanced down. “It would have happened anyway. Just because it was you, it doesn’t mean you have to take responsibility for it.”
“I don’t care about what I have to or don’t have to do. You’re just… important to me, and if I want to protect you, half of it is protecting myself.”
“You’re leaving in a week.” Emily hated that tone. She finally was asking for something and it sounded so hopeless.
“I know.”
Emma stepped into her, and Emily closed her hands around her sides, sliding them down to her narrow hips. Emma leaned her head against her shoulder and curled her arms around her waist.
“I don’t need you.”
Emily wrapped her arms more tightly around the younger girl. “I know.”
* * *
They left Christian to find someone else to smoke with and retreated to Emma’s dim cool hotel room.
“I like those,” Emma said, when Emily had stripped down to her underwear.
“Yeah?”
Emma managed a half of a lascivious grin. “Could you…” she started, then breathed in and tried again. “Could you make it hurt?”
“What?”
Emma cringed and wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Not, like for the fun of it. Just use your fingers, you know, enough so it won’t hurt again.”
“I don’t- I don’t know if I can do that.”
“You can try though. I just… I don’t want anyone to be able to erase this.”
Emily knelt on the bed next to her. “No one’s ever going to be able to erase this,” she said, and pressed her lips to Emma’s warm, wet mouth. Emma’s hands slid up her arms and held, nails biting into her shoulders. She didn’t kiss as hard, just tilted her head into it, opening her mouth, and leaning back into the pillows. Emily moved to straddle her legs and hover over her. She slid her hands up her stomach to cup her breasts. She lowered her head to suck wetly at Emma’s neck.
“Harder,” Emma managed to growl out. “Harder.” She tossed her head back and her hips rolled like a wave into Emily as she moved down to unfasten her bra and rub her wet tongue in circles over her taut nipple. She couldn’t help the rumble in her chest as her lips pressed against perfect, smooth, soft skin.
I want to wear you on my body like a scar.
Part 18