A/N~ Hello there! It's been so long - too long - since I've put up a CM story. I apologize for not getting on the ball about my sequel for Table For Two, I just can't seem to find any inspiration. It will come eventually. Anyway, here's a little fun piece I totally forgot I was working on until twenty minutes ago. Enjoy, and don't forget to review!
Holyshit. Emily Prentiss though as she pulled up to the small park near the Hotchner's apartment. Garciareallyoutdidherselfthistime-Hotchmustbeinhell. When Garcia insisted on helping Hotch plan Jack's sixth birthday party two weeks ago, she was given strict instructions to have no pink, lace, blow ups over four feet tall, excessive streamers, kazoos or other loud party favors, and a birthday cake to feed 50 (not500) people. And she did follow them. No pink, just a lot of cameo. Blow ups did not even exceed three feet, but the life size cardboard cutouts of every action figure known to man did. And if this was Garcia's idea of a cut down on streamers then...wow. In place of the kazoos were the sticky hands that were being flung everywhere, the ceiling of the gazebo being the chief resting place for the toy.
"Hello, Princess! Back from your assignment? Oh wait, that's right. You were atacousin'sweddingfor the past week," Morgan said. The sarcastic skepticism was dripping from his voice.
"Get her a chair, Morgan. You alright Prentiss?" said Hotch as he turned his head from some of the parents from kids in Jack's class.
"I'm fine. Don't know if I'll last another seven weeks with these crutches though," she said plopping down in the chair Morgan brought over with a cheeky gin.
"Favor for a favor, Prentiss? What happened to your leg?"
"I broke it."
"Oh thanks, I was really confused about that part. You know I'm asking howyou broke it."
"I believe I answered your question as a favor. You have to get me food if you want me to answer another." Morgan huffed and turned away, stalking off to get a plate. This was going to be so much fun.
"MISS EMILY!" The woman whipped her head around as the birthday boy came running over to give her a hug.
"Careful, Jack," his father called from somewhere in the area before he could barrel into Emily's bad leg.
"Daddy said you might not come 'cause you got hurt," he said with a cute, child-like pout.
"And miss all this? No way! Happy Birthday, Jackster! I put your present over there for ya."
"Did you get in Prague? You know, while you were running a covert operation for the CIA?" Morgan said walking back over with a plate of food.
"You work for the CIA, too?" Jack asked, unable to contain his excitement.
"No, no, no. Mr. Morgan's just being silly. Looks like your aunt is calling you," she said giving Morgan a dirty look.
"Ok. Bye Miss Emily! Bye silly Mr. Morgan!" he said giggling as he ran off.
"Here's your food, and I got you extra sauce on the spagetthi, so I think that'll buy me three questions."
"Deal. I'd love to talk about my cousin's special day."
"Yeah, the cousin you've never mentioned having before. How is it that we've been partners for six years and you've never brought her up, yet you two are close enough for you to be a bridesmaid?"
"Looks like that's question one," she said smirking as he registered his words, regretting that as one of his three. "We aren't close, but another bridesmaid got really sick and she needed someone who was the same dress size to fill in."
"I find it hard to believe you were ok being runner-up."
"It's not like she would be a bridesmaid in my wedding when if I ever get married," she said shrugging, taking a bite of her food. "Next."
"What was the dinner you went to two weeks ago about?"
"I go to dinner with lots of people. Please be more specific." She chuckled at the frustration on the inquiring agent's face.
"Ok then. What did you and the deputy director of the CIA discuss over dinner?" He laughed at her blank look. "Oh-ho! Gottcha there, didn't I?"
Emily closed her mouth and sat up straight with a tight grin. "To answer your third question, I just so happened to be on a date with Nate." Now it was Morgan's turn to give her a blank stare.
"You were on a date...with Nathan Carlusa..."
"He says he likes my eyes," she flat-lined
The two stared each other down until Emily's bark of laughter caused her to double over while Morgan still stood dumb-struck.
"I'm going to get a drink..." Morgan muttered before walking off, deflated in his lack of ability to pull any information from her for the time being. As he crossed the yard, Hotch came over to take the empty seat across from his injured agent.
"So when are you going to tell him the "top secret CIA mission" was a week-long retraining session in Alabama and you were filling in for me when you met with Carlusa?" Hotch asked with a smile.
"If, and only if, this stops being so much fun. He's making it waytoo easy," Emily said smiling back.