Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, Criminal Minds.
Angel
Part 2
By
N. J. Borba
Emily stared at herself in the mirror, hating what she saw. Every dress, skirt or set of pants and top she tried on felt wrong. But she was pretty certain it had nothing to do with the clothing itself. The thing she hated most while gazing at her reflection was the scared fifteen year old girl she saw starring back at her. She ditched all the clothes and threw on a fluffy robe instead, resigned to staying home. Locking herself away was how she'd gotten through most of life. She figured this wouldn't be any different.
The knock at her door a half hour later was not from the man she'd been expecting. She stared at him for a long time through the peephole, debating. His black jeans and blue t-shirt hugged every muscle perfectly, but even her physical attraction to the man was marred by her mood. Emily wanted to pretend she wasn't home, hide out in her own home like a coward. Just like her earlier thoughts of seclusion. But she knew she owed him a lot more than that. "Derek," her greeting lacked inflection as she swung the door open for him.
He didn't seem daunted by her lackluster tone of voice, or the fact that she was dressed in a robe at seven o'clock on a Friday night. "I brought Chinese," he announced triumphantly while holding his plastic bag aloft, as if he'd hunted down and killed the meal himself.
"I'm not hungry," Emily replied, still rooted to the spot by her open door.
Derek stayed on the other side, finally sensing that something was wrong. He'd been getting the cold shoulder from her all week, but figured it was just a matter of work stress. In an attempt to lighten the mood, he fished through the bag and pulled out two individually wrapped fortune cookies. "In that case, how about we just skip straight to desert?" he suggested. "This kind, and then maybe the really good kind," he winked. "I believe your fortune has something to do with getting lucky tonight," his playful banter continued.
"We can't do this anymore," she spoke in a whisper, starring at the cookies in his hand. Emily didn't believe her future held anything good.
His hopes were crushed in an instant, worries realized. "I should have called, right?" Morgan tried to make amends, thinking he'd been far too persistent recently. "I'm sorry. I know we agreed to be casual and all that. Surprise visits don't really respect that rule."
She sighed. "It's not that, Morgan."
The formal use of his last name caused him to wince. More than anything he wanted the playful, carefree Emily he'd witnessed the other night. But, as he studied the woman before him now, Derek could plainly see she was lost somewhere beyond his reach. "Then… what is it?"
"I think we both knew this was going to end badly," Emily began, trying to hold herself together for a little while longer, at least until he left. "We work together and…"
"And we've done a good job to keep this separate from work," Derek countered. He reached for her hand, taking it in his. "Please, tell me what's going on and we can…"
"Emily?" a man's voice called out from down the hall, breaking up the conversation between them. She and Derek both turned to find John walking toward the door. His baggy jeans and shirt were topped off by a worn leather jacket that nearly dwarfed him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," he apologized. "But you said you'd meet me in the lobby downstairs. I thought maybe you'd stood me up again," John looked to her for an answer.
Morgan let go of her hand, a spike of anger and jealousy churning in his gut. "You should have just told me the truth," he growled in Emily's direction before storming down the hall.
"Derek, it's not…" her words fell upon deaf ears as Morgan disappeared around the corner. Emily felt sick for the way she'd just treated him. Seeing him in her bed reading a book, pouncing on him in a playful manner… all that seemed like a far distant memory to her now, rather than just a few days past. She did her best to shake it off as she faced John, prepared to dismantle what was left of her life. "I can't go with you tonight, John."
The man wore a confused look. "But we changed our plans from coffee this morning to dinner tonight, specifically so you could join us," he reminded her.
"I said maybe," Emily recalled the phone conversation she'd had with him the day before; one brave moment in time, which had now turned into another notch in her cowardly belt. "I'm sorry, just tell her… tell her whatever you want. But I'm not going." Emily didn't even allow him a chance to speak again before she closed the door in his face.
xxx
A gust of wind kicked up some leaves and caused Emily to shiver as she stood on the sidewalk. She felt like some voyeur, no better than most of the criminals they chased down. But curiosity had won out over cowardliness, at least to a very small degree. That was how she'd come to drive across town and stand on the other side of the street from the restaurant where John was meeting with their... "Our what?" she whispered aloud to herself. "She's not our anything," Emily added.
"Did you say something," a man's voice called to her.
Emily nearly jumped. She reflexively reached for the weapon that was normally at her hip. It wasn't there, though. Not tonight. Her eyes focused in the dim glow of the street lamp. The man was tall, about six feet, and older with slightly graying temples. He wore a long cream colored trench coat and expensive shoes. "I was just…" Emily paused. What was she to say? That she was talking to herself? The guy would think her a certified nut case.
"You're Emily Prentiss," he said.
She couldn't help notice there was no hesitation in his voice. "How do you know that?"
He smiled. "Because you look so much like her," the man replied. "Or, I suppose I should say that she looks very much like you."
Realization hit her like a ton of bricks. "You're her father?"
A nod came from him. "Scott Hayden," he offered his hand to her, but she didn't take it. "This must be strange for you," he continued, undeterred. "I know it certainly is for me. Knowing that Angie wanted to meet her real father, it hurts. I know she loves me, but it's… well, awkward is saying very little."
Only one thing had truly caught Emily's attention in all his words. "Angie? Her name is Angie?"
"John didn't tell you much, did he?" Hayden asked.
Her eyes focused again on the restaurant. She could see two people inside that she thought might be the blurry forms of John and the young woman. But she couldn't be certain, not certain enough to see that the girl looked anything like her. "I didn't want to know," she replied.
Again he nodded, not seeming too surprised. "We named her Angela, but she prefers Angie," he revealed. "My wife and I tried to have children for many years. Nothing came of it. But when Father Quinn placed that little bundle into our arms we both knew she was meant to be ours. Didn't matter to either of us where she'd come from," the man explained, nothing but love in his tone. "Angie, though, she always wanted to figure out the truth. She's constantly looking for answers. Probably why she wants to pursue a law degree," he reasoned. "Of course John says you're an FBI agent. Maybe she gets that from you."
Emily shook her head. "I'm sure she didn't get anything from me," she replied. "I need to go now."
As she made her quick retreat, Emily could hear the man trying to call her attention. But she never turned back.
xxx
Emily stood directly in front of the coffee pot in the BAU's break area. She closed her eyes and tried to revive herself on the smell of perking coffee, but she knew it would take a lot more than that. Perhaps a whole pot or more before she could consider herself alert in any sense of the word. When the coffee was finally done she poured herself a large mug and dumped a ton of artificial sweetener in, nearly enough to put sugar production out of business for good. Then she drank; gulping rather than sipping.
"Rough weekend?" JJ asked, reaching for a mug and noticing her friend's disheveled appearance.
"I didn't get much sleep," Emily answered.
"Oh?" JJ's brows arched as she poured coffee into her mug. "Good weekend, then?" she further prodded her friend.
For a brief moment Emily couldn't help wonder if JJ knew or suspected that she and Morgan had been seeing one another outside of work. But she decided it wasn't likely and gave a shake of the head as her only response. "Do we have a case?" she attempted to focus on work, hopping the liaison would give up her fishing expedition.
"Amazingly, no," the younger woman replied. "But you have a visitor," her head nodded toward the bullpen. "Reid has been chatting with her for almost twenty minutes now, so you might want to go rescue her," JJ grinned before making her way back toward her office.
Curiosity tugged at the back of Emily's mind, as to who would be visiting her first thing on a Monday morning. "There she is," Emily heard Reid say when she was within earshot.
The bullpen's morning hustle seemed to come to a crashing halt as Emily watched the young woman turn around and face her. She noticed the girl's dark brown hair, much the same as hers had been before she started dying it years ago. The girl also resembled her in regards to eyes, mouth, chin, nearly every small physical feature aside from her nose. She had John's nose, and his shy smile, which was now aimed at her. "Hi," Angie greeted.
For a moment no words would form, but Emily finally managed to squeeze out a very soft, "How did you get in here?" She starred at the name Angie Hayden on the ID badge clipped to the girl's blue sweater.
The young woman bit her bottom lip nervously. "I told them I was family."
"That's right," Reid spoke up again. "You never did tell me how you two are related." His eyes were aimed on Angie for a few seconds before turning the question to Emily.
"She's my…" Emily had no idea what to say, so she fell back on a lie. It seemed to be her status quo recently. "We're cousins."
That response caused Angie's nervousness to turn to disappointment. "Right, cousins," she agreed, reluctantly. Turning to Reid, the young woman smiled again, far less shy and much more genuine. "It was really nice to meet you, Spencer. But, you don't mind if I talk to my cousin privately, do you?"
"Not at all," the man responded, his cheeks blushing ever-so-slightly. "Please," he waved a hand toward Emily. "No one is in the conference room," he noted, pointing up to the room.
Angie looked to Emily again. "Can we talk?"
Emily said nothing, still feeling guilty over her cousin response. She carefully followed the girl to the conference room and closed the door, sealing them inside where others would not be able to overhear them talking. Instantly she was reminded of her conversation with John in the very same room just a week ago. It seemed that a lifetime had passed in the short space of seven days. The lie she'd been feeding herself for almost twenty-four-years had come back to bite her in the ass, big time.
"I'm sorry I just showed up here like this," Angie began, sensing that Emily wasn't going to be the first to speak. "But after seeing John on Friday," she sighed. "I just really wanted to see you, too. And I thought that if I waited I'd chicken out, so I just took a chance and here I am," she declared. Still not getting any kind of response from Emily, the younger forged ahead. "My dad said he spoke to you."
A silent nod was Emily's response, afraid of the words that might come out.
"This is weird for you, I'm sure," Angie kept speaking. "It's awkward for me, too. My parents sat me down when I was six and told me that I was adopted. I didn't really understand it all then, but as I got older I realized what it meant. It wasn't until high school that I really got curious about you. My mom died when I was seven and just having my dad when I was a teenager, well, it was kind of tough. He really didn't understand stuff," she shrugged. "I thought finding you would help. But I didn't have any way to contact you."
The nails of Emily's left hand paid the price for nearly a quarter of a century spent keeping the secret of Angie's existence locked away in her heart. She picked at them relentlessly as she watched the girl, knowing she was waiting for some great apology or words of wisdom, neither of which Emily possessed. "Why are you here now?" she asked, staring at the necklace Angie wore. It was a silver, oval-shaped locket with some sort of etching Emily couldn't identify. "You're not a teenager anymore," Emily needlessly pointed out.
Trying not to be hurt by the somewhat dismissive words, Angie took a deep breath and started over. "I'm not mad at you or anything," she calmly explained, worried that was the main reason Emily was on the defensive. "I'm just curious."
"Don't be curious about me," Emily promptly replied. "The only thing you need to know about me is…" she clenched her jaw, trying not to completely lose it. "I'm not anyone you need in your life," she concluded.
Angie did her level best to keep her emotions in check as she stood there, feeling rather rejected. "I'm sorry I bothered you," she whispered.
Emily stood there, rooted to her spot as Angie turned and moved toward the door. She wanted to stop the young woman and apologize. She wanted to run to her and hug her and have the kind of Hallmark movie reunion that the girl was obviously searching for. But her feet wouldn't budge, and neither would her lips. Twenty-three years ago she'd walked away from the baby she'd given birth to. Now she stood by, silently allowing the girl to exit her life again.
To be continued…
