CM FIC :: "Truth & Reflections 2 - Repercussions" [Emily Prentiss, Elizabeth Prentiss, PG13]
Title: Truth & Reflections 2 - Repercussions
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Email: stormwriter@shatterstorm.netnet
Rating: PG13
Focus: Emily Prentiss, Elizabeth Prentiss
Date Written: 14 March 2011
Word Count: 668
Written for:
purimgifts
Recipient:
blamography
Series: Truth & Reflections
Summary: The morning after the night before.
Spoilers: Just consider everything up to JJ having Henry fair game, okay?
Warnings: n/a
Website: ShatterStorm Productions - Frisked & Conquered
Link to: http://f-n-c.shatterstorm.net/
Archive: ShatterStorm Productions only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
Author’s Disclaimer: "Criminal Minds", the characters, and situations depicted are the property of CBS Productions, Touchstone Television, The Mark Gordon Company, and ABC Studios. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Criminal Minds", CBS, or any representative of the actors.
Author’s Notes: I'm always up for a challenge that makes me stretch beyond my comfort zone, and taking on pinch hits for Purimgifts is one of the best ways that I do that. I get to work with smaller chunks of fiction, combined with a picture that I always need to have connected to the story.
I freely admit that I played a little fast and loose with canon in this series. Primarily because I wrote this entire series in one night, and my Emily Prentiss muse would NOT let me pause to do research beyond cursory character background and searching for pictures to use. So things like exact details about Prentiss' condo may be inconsistent with canon. Just go with it, okay?
Dedication: My muses, as always…
Beta:
shatterpath
"Repercussions"
By A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Morning dawns far too early for your taste, and your eyes feel like they're permanently embedded in sandpaper. Glancing at the clock, you can't even muster up the urgency to swear at the late hour. And then you remember that you took the week off.
You always take this week off when you get the opportunity. At the very least, you take the day off in remembrance. One of these years, you'll take a trip back to Italy. At least, that's what you keep promising yourself, but you never do it. If you’re honest, you probably never will.
Sergio's plaintive meow reminds you that you're not allowed to wallow in bed all day. The heavenly scent of freshly brewed coffee hits your nose the minute you open your bedroom door. Yawning, you stumble into the kitchen to give him his morning kibble and get some of that coffee. It's not until you hear a very familiar humming that you come fully awake.
"Mom?" Jeezus, is that your voice that sounds so gravelly?
"Good morning, Emily," she says, voice far too chipper for your comfort, and hands you a steaming mug. "I wasn't sure you'd make it out of your bedroom before noon."
There's a definite chuckle in her tone, and you know it's at your own expense, but can't remember why. And then, with that first heavenly sip of hot, liquid caffeine, it all comes back to you. You sway slightly in your spot, grateful for the counter behind you, and set your mug down.
"We really-- It wasn't a fucked up exhaustion dream?"
"Language, Emily," she admonishes automatically, and you feel the flush of embarrassment at the rebuke. "But no, it wasn't a dream. We ended up finishing off a couple of bottles of wine while we talked. Between the exhaustion and the wine, I'm not sure how you made it into your bed without falling over."
Nodding slowly, you take another healthy swallow of your coffee. Bits and pieces of your heart-to-heart filter back into your conscious memory, and tears prickle behind your eyelids again. All of your fears and worries about your mother ever finding out about your teenage indiscretion apparently were baseless. That balm soothes your scarred heart and soul more than you ever thought possible. And then you realize that she's still talking and probably expecting you to answer eventually.
"Figured we could do a day at the spa," she says. "Once you've showered, of course."
"Of course," you mutter, finding comfort in the familiar weight of the mug in your hands.
"Emily? If you don't feel up to it, we can just stay here."
"No, Mom, it's not that. I just need to wake up a little more, but we can definitely go do something. I don't want to waste your visit by being cooped up in this apartment. Maybe we could do the museum? I hear they've got a great new exhibit that just started."
"Oh?" She perks up at the mention of the museum; this doesn't surprise you in the slightest. "What kind of exhibit?"
Suddenly, everything you were thinking about the museum completely disappears from your brain. You stare at her blankly, mind churning desperately to remember what the exhibit is supposed to be. She smiles and pats your hand gently.
"Why don't you go take a shower and I'll make us some breakfast. When you come out, we'll figure out what we want to do today."
"Thanks, Mom," you reply gratefully and lean in to press a kiss to her cheek. The scent of her favorite powder fills your nostrils, sending you back to a time when that scent meant comfort from all the bogeymen of your childhood, before you thought you knew more than she did. "For everything."
"For you, Emily, it is definitely not a problem."
"I love you, Mom."
"I love you, too," she replies, pulling back to reveal a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Now go shower, you smell like a wino."
source
Original post @ Dreamwidth with
comments. Commenting is welcome on either post.
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Email: stormwriter@shatterstorm.netnet
Rating: PG13
Focus: Emily Prentiss, Elizabeth Prentiss
Date Written: 14 March 2011
Word Count: 668
Written for:
purimgifts
Recipient:
blamography
Series: Truth & Reflections
Summary: The morning after the night before.
Spoilers: Just consider everything up to JJ having Henry fair game, okay?
Warnings: n/a
Website: ShatterStorm Productions - Frisked & Conquered
Link to: http://f-n-c.shatterstorm.net/
Archive: ShatterStorm Productions only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
Author’s Disclaimer: "Criminal Minds", the characters, and situations depicted are the property of CBS Productions, Touchstone Television, The Mark Gordon Company, and ABC Studios. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Criminal Minds", CBS, or any representative of the actors.
Author’s Notes: I'm always up for a challenge that makes me stretch beyond my comfort zone, and taking on pinch hits for Purimgifts is one of the best ways that I do that. I get to work with smaller chunks of fiction, combined with a picture that I always need to have connected to the story.
I freely admit that I played a little fast and loose with canon in this series. Primarily because I wrote this entire series in one night, and my Emily Prentiss muse would NOT let me pause to do research beyond cursory character background and searching for pictures to use. So things like exact details about Prentiss' condo may be inconsistent with canon. Just go with it, okay?
Dedication: My muses, as always…
Beta:
shatterpath
"Repercussions"
By A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Morning dawns far too early for your taste, and your eyes feel like they're permanently embedded in sandpaper. Glancing at the clock, you can't even muster up the urgency to swear at the late hour. And then you remember that you took the week off.
You always take this week off when you get the opportunity. At the very least, you take the day off in remembrance. One of these years, you'll take a trip back to Italy. At least, that's what you keep promising yourself, but you never do it. If you’re honest, you probably never will.
Sergio's plaintive meow reminds you that you're not allowed to wallow in bed all day. The heavenly scent of freshly brewed coffee hits your nose the minute you open your bedroom door. Yawning, you stumble into the kitchen to give him his morning kibble and get some of that coffee. It's not until you hear a very familiar humming that you come fully awake.
"Mom?" Jeezus, is that your voice that sounds so gravelly?
"Good morning, Emily," she says, voice far too chipper for your comfort, and hands you a steaming mug. "I wasn't sure you'd make it out of your bedroom before noon."
There's a definite chuckle in her tone, and you know it's at your own expense, but can't remember why. And then, with that first heavenly sip of hot, liquid caffeine, it all comes back to you. You sway slightly in your spot, grateful for the counter behind you, and set your mug down.
"We really-- It wasn't a fucked up exhaustion dream?"
"Language, Emily," she admonishes automatically, and you feel the flush of embarrassment at the rebuke. "But no, it wasn't a dream. We ended up finishing off a couple of bottles of wine while we talked. Between the exhaustion and the wine, I'm not sure how you made it into your bed without falling over."
Nodding slowly, you take another healthy swallow of your coffee. Bits and pieces of your heart-to-heart filter back into your conscious memory, and tears prickle behind your eyelids again. All of your fears and worries about your mother ever finding out about your teenage indiscretion apparently were baseless. That balm soothes your scarred heart and soul more than you ever thought possible. And then you realize that she's still talking and probably expecting you to answer eventually.
"Figured we could do a day at the spa," she says. "Once you've showered, of course."
"Of course," you mutter, finding comfort in the familiar weight of the mug in your hands.
"Emily? If you don't feel up to it, we can just stay here."
"No, Mom, it's not that. I just need to wake up a little more, but we can definitely go do something. I don't want to waste your visit by being cooped up in this apartment. Maybe we could do the museum? I hear they've got a great new exhibit that just started."
"Oh?" She perks up at the mention of the museum; this doesn't surprise you in the slightest. "What kind of exhibit?"
Suddenly, everything you were thinking about the museum completely disappears from your brain. You stare at her blankly, mind churning desperately to remember what the exhibit is supposed to be. She smiles and pats your hand gently.
"Why don't you go take a shower and I'll make us some breakfast. When you come out, we'll figure out what we want to do today."
"Thanks, Mom," you reply gratefully and lean in to press a kiss to her cheek. The scent of her favorite powder fills your nostrils, sending you back to a time when that scent meant comfort from all the bogeymen of your childhood, before you thought you knew more than she did. "For everything."
"For you, Emily, it is definitely not a problem."
"I love you, Mom."
"I love you, too," she replies, pulling back to reveal a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Now go shower, you smell like a wino."
source
Original post @ Dreamwidth with
comments. Commenting is welcome on either post.