Title: The Escape: Part 5/7
Author: Tooks
Pairing/Characters: Aaron Hotcher/Emily Prentiss, Emily Prentiss/Ethan, Emily Prentiss/George Foyet, Jason Gideon/Lil Foyet, George Foyet/Lil Foyet...Jack and Sam are also in this.
Rating: FRAO
Summary: With the death sentence of wrongfully convicted best friend, Sam Kassmeyer, set Private Investigator Aaron “Hotch” Hotchner decides he can’t let it be carried out without a fight. But when fighting back includes breaking Sam out of prison Hotch’s limits are tested.
Beta'd by: Always helpful and incredibly awesome
pink_siameseFanmix & Art by: Incredibly cool
queenmidalah...art post
here!
Additional Notes: This is "The Blonds Case" for the
au_bigbang. Set in the Noir, "Living For the Night" (thanks to
let_it_linger21). Rather than give warnings per-section let's just say there's going to be violence and sex abound, sometimes combined and some involving a teen, mild incest, and a character death. This section is in Emily's POV.
I leave Aaron with a sinking heart. More than anything I want to help him, I want him to allow me to. I want him to realize that he can’t save Sam alone; he can’t even do it with just the core team. He needs to trust those that his team trusts.
As I drive home I wonder if Jack’s offer will still stand and if he’ll go around his own father to help. I imagine Jack will. He’s always been as strong and strong-willed as his father. A handsome youth with dimpled cheeks when smiling and a heart-stopping glare from normally gentle eyes…I doubt Jack realizes just how much like his father he really is.
I pull my car into the small drive I have as I spot another car pull up to the street behind me. A man gets out. “Of course,” I sigh recognizing him as I turn off the engine and open my door. “Ethan.”
He heads over with a smile at his name. “Thought talkin’ to Jack again might go best if I brought someone he knew better along.”
I get out of the car and started to head over. “Dr Reid knows him the best.”
“Reid’s busy.”
“With?”
Ethan shrugs.
“Is that a you don’t know or you won’t tell me?”
Ethan smiles, closing the gap between us. “He’s talkin’ to some press folk with that Gideon guy. Makin’ sure that they don’t start diggin’ for a story with Sam and all.” His smile becomes a smirk. “Happy?”
“About?”
“Bein’ let in on somethin’ you don’t even need to know.”
I give a small smile, but say nothing.
“So, what’s with Hotch?”
“He’s being protective.”
“Jack don’t look like he needs protectin’.”
“Everyone needs protecting, Ethan.”
“Do you need protecting, Emily?”
I debate answering. I debate showing him how much I don’t and how much I do. “We should go find Jack.”
“I already know where he is.”
“Where?”
“Gideon’s place, Nightingale’s.”
“I know where that is,” I turn to get back into my car. “How about I drive?”
Ethan takes my hand. “How ‘bout ya let me chauffer you?”
I’m inclined to decline and he seems to know it.
“It makes me seem more gentlemanly.”
“I thought you liked playing the rogue?” I tease some.
“I do. The gentlemanly rogue.”
“Fine, but you’ll take my directions and tell me what it is, exactly, you need Jack to do for us.”
“How come?”
“Because I’m going to be the one talking to Jack.”
“But -“
I spin at his car. “You said you wanted someone he knew to talk to him.”
“Fair enough.”
***
Jack sits at the corner of the bar with a petite blond I recognize immediately: Lilith Foyet. I’m not all that surprised, word in the city is that Jack looks out for her…not that her last name wasn’t plenty of protection alone. The girl looks up, catches my eye, and gives her father’s smirk.
“Lil,” Jack calls before giving a sigh. “Lil, you need to concentrate.”
“Puta y pendejo a las seis, ” the girl works out in broken Spanish.
Jack turns on his stool, his hand going to his hip as if reaching for a gun, but he smiles upon seeing it’s me. “Ms Prentiss.”
“Emily.”
“Emily. Jason’s stepped out, did you need something?”
“Jack!” Lil stretched out the vowel in his name plaintively as she squirmed like a child and leaned on the bar. “You said you’d help me!”
“Uno momento, por favor,” Jack replies with a smile. He gets up and heads over. “The girl can probably perform a successful surgery on someone, but she can’t conjugate Spanish for the life of her.”
“I could always give her a hand,” Ethan offers causing both Jack and I to turn our attention to him. “That way you two can talk and all.”
“Fine, but if you have any sharp objects on you leave them on the bar, here, before going over there.”
Ethan laughs. “You serious?”
“Deadly.”
He leaves a sheathed knife from his belt on the counter before heading over to the girl, all smiles. “Hey darlin’, need a hand?”
Lil cocks her head, then her lips, as she gives the approaching Ethan the twice over. “En Espanol?”
“Hacen necesitan ayuda?”
“Si, senor!” The girl gives a laugh.
Jack watches the two speaking in broken Spanish for a few minutes before his attention returns to me. “So, you’re going around my dad’s back now? How can I help?”
I explain to him the basics of the plan, how he can help transport Sam away from the prison, and even do a preliminary declaration of death if need be. Jack agrees to it all without concern and only one question. “When do you need me?”
“I…” I don’t know. “Ethan?”
He’s deep in conversation with Lil at the bar and the body language tells me they’ve moved on from conjugating verbs. Only after I call his name again does he turn his attention back to Jack and me.
“When are we doing this?”
Ethan smiles as he gets up. “Jack, you in?”
“Yes, but I need to know the times in order to be sure I’m on-shift.”
“Two days from now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Two days gives them enough time to relax since our visit and keeps them from gearing up for the switch to death row at the end of the week, when they’ll be on high alert again.”
I give a small nod and then shrug. “Two days.”
“I can do that. Either way I’m on most the week so I’ll just try and answer any call to the prison. You talked to Lil?”
“She’s…an interesting girl.”
Jack smiles a little. “You have no idea how much.” His smile leaves. “If you made her a part of this I’d like to know exactly how.”
“It’s not important.”
“I assure you it is.”
“Don’t trust her?”
Jack’s face grew serious. “Trusting a girl like Lil completely is never a good idea. She’s a killer because she enjoys it and, if the task you gave her involves violence, she’s liable to get carried away.”
“She’s going to get Sam into the infirmary,” Ethan says. “I didn’t tell her how I just said it had to look bad without actually being bad.”
“I’ll have Gideon work with her on control until it’s time.”
“In the meantime maybe you guys might wanna do a little something about the problem that is my daddy,” Lil chimes in.
***
I tell Ethan to stay in Nightingale’s with Jack and Lil where Foyet won’t enter to cause trouble without good reason. Then I step outside, keeping my eyes keyed into his.
He sits in his cruiser with a satisfied look on his face. He thinks he’s won because he got someone to come out and play with him. And not just anyone, someone he’s wanted for years. I can tell right now he wants nothing more than a reason to take me into custody. Not arrest me, he doesn’t want that. He just wants to play, see what he can get out of me and what I can get out of him.
I hang back against the wall as he gets out of his car and leans back on it with a friendly smile. The floor’s left open for me. Another dance with The Reaper.
I make my overture in a subtle shift in my jacket, a false adjustment with a tempting glare in his direction that flashes that gun I’m not supposed to have.
He smirks his appreciation as he heads on over as calmly as if he were just coming to chat up an old friend. “I swear,” he croons. “It’s like you want me to take you.”
My eyes never leave his as I smirk back. “Take me in for what?”
He ticks his head to one side, letting his smirk grow into a full-on grin as he reaches out to pull back my jacket. Pull it open, spread the sides out wide, and crawl his eyes over my body before leaning in. “Happy to see me or not, that’s definitely a gun in your pocket.” He chuckles as he takes the weapon, skimming his fingers over my side to see if I’ll squirm away. “Well, on your belt anyway.”
I don’t. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead I shift into the touch, show a flash of boldness that I know he’ll enjoy. “Girl’s gotta protect herself.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
If we were friends we’d have shared a laugh over that. Instead I simply lift the corner of my lips. “So what now? You arrest me? Get me in that little interrogation of yours and…” My eyes crawl over him. “Rough me up?”
“Getting you to sweat under those lights does sound tempting.”
“I sweat a lot better in the dark.”
He spins me fast like we’re back on the dance floor. I’m stopped at the brick wall that scratches my face while he pins me with his body to get the cuffs on. “Good. Then we’ll skip the interrogation and go right to the tombs.”
***
I lean back against the bars of the cell, arms spread but relaxed. "You going to bark all day, Officer, or are you going to bite?"
He takes the invitation, my latest challenge accepted in the rough capturing of lips and forcing of his tongue in my mouth. I accept it greedily, thrust mine right back as I move my hands to go around his neck. But he knows that trick too well and grabs my wrists to pin back to the bars. I throw a moan into his mouth. He throws it back deeper, harder, as I pinch his tongue between teeth. Only when he pulls back do I taste the blood. I know he tastes it too as he smirks at me.
"Don't tell me you're going to let a little blood ruin the mood."
He almost laughs. "Never."
He must know I’m playing him, but he doesn’t seem to care. What he does care about is the blood, what we both taste, that it’s still running hard and fast in our veins. It’s the blood that pushes him back into me, that melts me between the bars and his body, and that brings both our breaths to unite in the small space our lips leave.
“I know what are you and Hotchner planning, Emily,” he growls.
“Who says we’re planning anything?” I smile back as I press my body up into him, swivel when our groins meet.
He chuckles his moan as he releases one hand to grab my jaw, keep me slightly open-mouthed to suck in that fresh scent I breathe out.
“You’re planning something,” he says, pressing hard into me so the other hand can wander about my body in search of a home…or at least a place to play for awhile.
“Prove it.” I begin to undo the buttons of his police-shirt blues.
His hand’s a roamer. It likes new terrain, both of blade and body, and works its way under the white shirt to skim around my waist. “I don’t have to, I have confirmation of my own. My only question is,” the words elongate into a moan as his hand detours down an arousing slope that pulls a moan from me. He needs a full breath to get the rest out. “When are you breaking Hotch’s little butt-buddy from prison?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His hand clenches into a fist on the fleshiest part of my ass and he presses me up into him. He takes hold of my throat. “You think I’m stupid?” His voice shows the edge his smiling face won’t.
“I think you’re hard,” I laugh soft, almost sweet. My hands skim down his chest to head for his crotch. I’m not wrong. I start to massage his cock.
One hand works fast to hike up my skirt while the other slips down to enjoy the full heat of a breast. I press into him, squeeze his hard-on as I spread my smile. It’s not enough for him though. His hand circles around my ass and hips, bringing my panties down to my thighs.
“What if someone comes in?” I moan out as his lips land on my throat. At least Foyet’s a man who knows what he’s doing. I don’t stop working his cock as my second hand does an expert job at unbuckling his belt.
“I’ll fucking kill them.” He’s not kidding. After all our battles, our dances, this is where he’s wanted me all along. Moaning under his weight. He’s not about to stop now. And, honestly, if I didn’t have better things to do I might not either. Foyet will never be a man I want to be with, but he’s a man I wouldn’t mind experiencing.
“So…” My own arousal grows when I feel teeth embed into my collarbone and the sucking of blood to the surface of pale skin, “we’re alone.” I yank apart the lapels his opened pants made as my panties finally slip their way down my legs to the floor. I step out and kick them aside.
“Yes,” Foyet growls out. Then, suddenly, that roaming hand that’d been smoothing over the roundness of ass and thighs finds new terrain. Hot, slick, terrain that allows the passage of just two of his fingers.
The moan rolls out from my cunt on up. I had a clever line ready to go, but he’s pulled it right out of me in the steady thrusts of his fingers.
“But maybe you wanna call up Hotch and see if he’d like to take in the show?” Foyet chuckles. I get a moan out of him.
It’s then that I see Ethan standing back, watching without emotion and with a gun to the back of Foyet’s head.
Even as more and more of me wants to keep going, to let that pressure building in my fevered gut find its release, I know I can’t. So I do the only thing I can: quickly shift tactics and hands to push George off and away. He’s no longer expecting it, so it’s not difficult. Before he can move back in, he feels the barrel of Ethan’s gun.
“Lemme guess,” his eyes slip from me to his periphery, “the man from the car?”
“The man from the car,” Ethan confirms.
As much as I hate him, as he disgusts me, I can’t witness Officer Foyet’s death. I grab my panties and head around both men. “Took you long enough,” I mutter to Ethan with undirected annoyance and anger.
I walk out without looking back. Not even as I hear the exchange of growls or fists or grunts and groans. By the time I reach the end of the hall I hear the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the concrete. I head out the door.
To Be Continued...
Next Section:
The Escape: Part 6 Previous Section:
The Escape: Part 1 The Escape: Part 2 The Escape: Part 3 The Escape: Part 4