A/N - I'm hoping to get another update done before Sunday, but this weekend, parental duties abound and I'm flying solo with the kidlets due to some geeky, math-type conference for my one and only, so...I shall try, but I can't make promises. ::smooch::
Emily nervously flicked the edge the cardboard sleeve that surrounded her coffee cup and waited for Tom to arrive. That morning in the house with Derek had been slightly tense, though Derek had tried valiantly to make things easy and normal. He hadn't said anything, but she watched his eyes. She went upstairs to shower and came back and his eyes landed on the ring on her finger, like he was surprised she hadn't taken it off for her meeting with Tom, like he was worried she would. She went upstairs after breakfast to put on her boots, and she came back down and his eyes had looked for the ring again. Finally, when she was putting on her coat and getting ready to walk out the door, after hugging Maddie and Devon goodbye, she kissed Derek on the cheek and whispered in his ear, "I'm not taking it off. Ever."
The ten minutes she'd sat at the table in the coffee shop, she'd alternated between tearing bits of cardboard off the sleeve on her cup and staring at that ring. She wasn't taking it off. The old her would have. The old her would have hidden it away to make the conversation with Tom easier, but there was no escaping the reality she knew: Tom was hurt, Tom might be angry. Though she'd kindly declined, Tom had tried to convince her to to stay with him several times, both in those months when she first brought Declan and Louise to DC, and again in the months following Doyle's death.
Maybe he was over it now, but she doubted it. And the fact was that she was setting up house and a life with Derek, Maddie and Devon essentially in Tom's own backyard, which made it all more crucial that she handled this honestly. She went back to picking at the corner of the cardboard and saw Tom striding down the sidewalk through the window.
Suddenly she didn't know what to do with her left hand. Should she keep it tucked in her lap and let him just sit at the table, without any greeting at all? Should she hug him first and then try to hide it? No, her subconscious yelled at her. Live real. Be kind, but be real.
Emily stood when Tom approached the table. She reached out to give him a warm, but quick, hug. He saw the ring in a fraction of a second. She saw a brief flash of moisture in his eyes, and then it was gone. He smiled warmly at her and sat down.
"I got you a coffee," she mumbled nervously.
Tom reached for the cup and cleared his throat. "Tell me," he implored. "Declan told me what you told him, but I know there's more."
And so, what was once Emily's biggest secret, the secret that caused her nightmares and heartburn and heart palpitations, was told again. All of it. And it was almost easy that time because she knew there was no loss at the end of the story, that she could get through this conversation and then head home where her daughter waited for her. She ended the narrative with, "Please don't say you're sorry that it all happened. First of all, it's not your fault; I made my choices, too. Secondly, I'm really not sorry about Interpol or Doyle at all anymore. I can't be when I have her with me."
Tom nodded and sat quietly for several long breaths. "I always hoped, at the end, it would be you and me," he finally admitted out loud.
Emily's heart broke in feeling and empathy, but not in love. Perhaps at one time she could have loved Tom Kohler, back when she was twenty-four years old, had there not been any secrets or Interpol. But she couldn't even tell him that. She was twenty-four years old back then, and he was thirty-six, and she couldn't even claim to know herself at all. It had taken her decades to figure that out, and she had only started understanding who she could be, the version of herself she wanted to be, in the past couple of weeks.
She wanted to tell him that at the end, she had trusted him with something precious to her, she had trusted him with Declan, but she knew it wouldn't make any difference, and it wasn't what he needed to hear in that moment.
While she looked at him and fumbled for words, he asked in a cracked voice, "You're not going to try and take Declan from me, are you?"
The question literally knocked the wind from her chest, it was so far outside the realm of the words she'd been trying to formulate. He's sixteen, Tom, and you've had him for over a decade. He's happy, Tom, just where his is.
Neither statement seemed quite right. "You're his father, Tom. You have been for a long time. Declan calls you by your first name, but you're the man who made him who he is. I'd never think of taking him from you, and I doubt Declan would come with me if I asked him to. I know he wouldn't."
Tom smiled at that, and Emily felt relief, like this conversation might be coming to an end and she could just go home. But then Tom drew things back again. He reached out and touched the ring on her finger. "You look happy. Your face looks like I wish I could have made it for you for years."
Had she misled him? No, not ever. From the moment she let him back into her life after she started at Interpol, it had only been friendly, never more - comforting, especially in those first few months after Doyle, but platonic. She'd made sure of that. Perhaps he felt when he'd taken Declan, and paid his debt he felt he owed her, that there was something else out there waiting for him with her.
"Tom," she said quietly.
"Would it have been different, if you told me about Maddie, and I had found her? Could it have been me?" he asked sadly.
This time there was no hesitation, only a sick feeling in her gut at potentially hurting him, and the absolute need to end this line of thinking of his, to speak the truth. "No," she replied. "No, Tom. If I didn't think underneath everything that you were trustworthy and kind, I would have never left Declan with you. But, I was lost for a long time, and there was only one person I could ever let find me, and that's Derek."
Tom looked down in his lap and cleared his throat. Emily waited a long time for him to look up, and kept her tears in check. When he finally did, he smiled softly at her. "Can I just ask you one more thing?" he said with a grin.
Emily nodded and strengthened herself for another difficult question.
"Can you tell me how the hell it is that you and Ian Doyle made a kid who kills it on the basketball court?"
Emily blinked at the unexpectedness of the question. Then she laughed and patted his arm gently and briefly. "I have absolutely no clue."
The conversation was lighter after that, with Tom asking her questions she couldn't answer about what she was going to do for work now, but they were cursory questions, things he threw out so as not to abruptly end their meeting. They parted shortly after with another brief hug and the casual words of getting together for coffee again sometime, but Emily knew it would probably be a long time before Tom instigated something like that, if he ever did.
Emily sat in her car outside the coffee shop and took a few deep breaths. It had gone okay. Tom would be okay. She looked at the clock on her dashboard. She hadn't any idea how long her meeting with Tom would take. She'd left the house with the promise of being home by lunch, but it was only ten-thirty.
She had a deep desire to finish cleaning house, so to speak. She'd talked to and been around the team. She'd told Declan about Maddie. She'd now talked to Tom. There was only one other person she needed to talk to.
Christmas had come and gone without a phone call from Elizabeth Prentiss. This wasn't unusual; their communication with each other was infrequent and sporadic with no specific emotions tied to things like holidays and birthdays. Still, it probably wouldn't be long until Elizabeth, by way of connections and acquaintances, found out Emily had left Interpol. One of Emily's senior agents was the son of a diplomat who was actually on friendly terms with Elizabeth. It wouldn't surprise Emily if her mom already knew that she'd left London and was just waiting for Emily to contact her.
She wouldn't let herself hope that this meeting with her mom would be loving and happy, but she felt like she wanted to get it over with and just be with Derek and the kids were a clear conscience. And, if she was honest with herself, having Maddie and Devon had set off a longing she'd blocked herself from feeling before; the feeling of wanting a real relationship with her own mother, however improbable or impossible. Her mind still sometimes went back to that one night when she'd shown up at her mother's door when her mother believed her dead, and how her mother had been warm and receptive. A part of Emily really wanted that strange version of mother in her life.
Instead of turning her car around and heading home, she pulled away from the curb and headed to Georgetown.
Elizabeth's house was the same as it always was - precise, rigid and neat. So was Elizabeth. Though Emily's mother's active political days were essentially over, she was, at ten-thirty in the morning, dressed in a suit, hair neatly done, make-up on, as if at any moment someone was going to call her in for an important meeting.
Emily knew the reality was likely that her mom would quietly move around her house in her designer suit for the day, pretending to make herself busy with different things, until evening, when she'd go quietly to bed. Tomorrow morning she'd wake up and don a similar outfit and repeat it all. It made Emily feel sad.
She waited patiently in the living room full of furniture that looked like it had never been sat on while her mother heated water for tea. When her mother returned with the tray and sat down stiffly in the chair opposite Emily, she questioned, "So you've quit your job with Interpol?"
Emily smiled slightly. "I knew you'd probably heard that. I haven't officially quit anything yet, but I'm not going back."
Elizabeth sipped her tea and eyed her daughter, pursing her lips slightly at the casual boots, faded jeans and comfortable sweater Emily was wearing. Emily held back from rolling her eyes. Conversation with Elizabeth Prentiss was always difficult because Emily knew she was being judged and analyzed, from her clothes to her hair to her words.
Suddenly, being there felt like a very bad idea. She didn't want this around Maddie or Devon, ever. Still, she couldn't hide her life from her mother, and her mother finding out about Derek and the kids in other ways would end up being worse.
Emily cleared her throat. "I'm living with Derek Morgan. Agent Morgan? You've met him before."
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows and Emily almost smiled. She'd surprised her mother. Just you wait, Mom.
"I remember him. How long have you two been seeing each other?" Elizabeth finally asked in a detached voice.
"A little more than five years or a little less than two weeks, depending on what timeline or reality you want to use," Emily said softly, and then she did smile genuinely at the look of confusion on her mother's face. How badly could she possibly shock this woman? Emily had come back from the dead; certainly this wouldn't be more of an assault on her mom's system. How badly could her mother actually hurt her with her reaction? That was the big unknown.
"Mom," Emily continued, just wanting to get it out, "almost eleven years ago, I got pregnant when I was on an assignment for work. I gave the baby up for adoption. I can tell you the whole story if you want, but the important thing is that I have her back now. Her name is Madeleine. Maddie. Derek and I are going to raise her, along with another foster child named Devon. He's five."
Elizabeth stared, and then her cool exterior cracked a bit. Emily could see her hands shaking as she put her cup of tea down on the table. "I have a granddaughter?"
Emily nodded. "And a grandson," she said softly, but firmly. "I have a picture of them here on my phone." Emily fumbled with her phone and found a picture from Christmas morning and handed the phone over to her mom.
Elizabeth took the phone and riveted her eyes on the picture for a long time. "She looks just like you, Emily."
"I know. She's ten and she's very smart and funny and kind. She plays basketball. And Devon, he's so sweet. He had a rough life, but he's so loving and open. They're starting at Winston School next week and...I can't believe this is my life. I've loved every minute of it so far." It was by far the most honest declaration Emily had ever made in front of her mother and she knew she was open and vulnerable in the moment, looking at her mom with hope and beseeching eyes for understanding and acceptance.
Elizabeth looked up and handed the phone back to Emily, finally noticing for the first time the ring on Emily's hand. Her eyes flickered there and then she placed her hands in her lap and seemed to be waiting for Emily to say something else, but before Emily could find any words, Elizabeth interjected. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't tell anyone, Mom."
"Not back then, Emily. Why didn't you tell me when you first came back to the states?"
Elizabeth almost sounded hurt, which wasn't an emotion she'd ever heard in her mom's voice before. "Because we didn't know how things were going to end up at first, and then we wanted to get them settled." Emily paused. "Because, Mom, I need you to understand that they are both emotionally fragile and insecure right now in a lot of ways. Visiting them while wearing a suit and making them squirm under your scrutiny isn't something I'm comfortable with. I don't want that for them."
At first Elizabeth bristled at those words. Emily could see the flash of red on her cheeks and her eyes narrowing in anger, could see her back stiffen. But then her mom released the breath she was holding and relaxed her posture. Elizabeth looked over Emily's head, around the living room, blinking and breathing for a few seconds, before her eyes landed back on Emily's.
"You know, Emily, I do own other clothing."
It was an unexpected statement, a gift, a surprise. Emily started to smile and then her mother continued, "I'd like to meet my granddaughter."
The smile fell off Emily's face. "And grandson."
Elizabeth waved her hand and made a face, like Devon was of little significance, and Emily felt that wave of her hand like it was a slap across her face. Emily stood, the need to get out of that stiff, cold brownstone immediate and overwhelming. She'd known this likely wasn't going to be easy or be a situation where she walked out feeling happy or comforted. But she hadn't expected to feel this level of anger, hadn't considered that her mom would be so immediately and obviously dismissive of Devon.
Emily breathed in and out, slowly, not wanting to let her anger get the best of her. "I know this is a huge shock to you and it's going to take some time to get used to. But Maddie and Devon, they're a package deal. Maddie may biologically be mine, but they belong to me and Derek, both of them. When you can come to our home and be okay with dog fur and children who are allowed to play and laugh and make noise in the house, when you want to meet my family and accept them just as they are - and by that I mean all of them - and you can treat them equally and kindly, you let me know. I'll let myself out."
Emily walked quickly, though she wanted to run.
"Emily," Elizabeth called out as Emily was going through the front door. .
Emily paused and turned around; she couldn't help the feeling of hope that fluttered in her heart. She met her mother's eyes as the frigid air blew into the house. Her mom opened and closed her mouth several times, like she was trying to say words she couldn't quite get past her lips. Then, "Drive safely," finally came out of her mom's mouth.
Emily shook her head and slammed the door behind her.
She cried the first half of the drive home, and then calmed herself with the knowledge that her life before her visit with her mom was no different than her life after the visit. She still had what was important to her, and now she didn't have to worry about her mother finding out from someone else. She also felt a surge of strength inside her that she had stood up to her mother and actually said what was on her mind for the first time in her life. Emily laughed quietly to herself that at forty-five years old she felt proud of herself for standing up to Elizabeth Prentiss.
When she pulled in the driveway, all thoughts of her mom disappeared at first. There, in the front yard, were four snowmen. Derek and the kids had been busy that morning. The snowmen were them, the four of them, with branches for arms angled so it looked like they were all holding hands.
Emily grinned at the sight, her residual sadness and anger melting away, and let herself in the front door. Sammy barked and trotted over to greet her, reaching her a second before Devon did. "Emily!" he said happily and then jumped in her arms for a hug.
Maddie smiled and hugged her briefly around the waist. And then Derek was there, curious, but obviously happy to see her.
"I like the snowmen," Emily said.
"Snow family," said Maddie softly.
Emily set Devon on the ground and gently ran her hand over Maddie's head. "Even better."
She reached forward to hug Derek. "How did it go?" he whispered in her ear.
"Okay."
Emily had spent the last part of her drive home thinking about family in general again, and making herself okay with the idea that her mother may never play a part in her life with the kids and Derek any more than she did before they came along.
She squeezed her arms more firmly around Derek, finding warmth and strength there. "I think we should have your mom come for a visit."
The previous New Year's Eve, Rossi had had a party. Derek had gone with Savannah, not particularly happy with his life, but thinking if he just kept trying he'd find that feeling of contentment that was eluding him. JJ wasn't really happy last year either, and things seemed a little tense between her and Will. For a New Year's Eve party, it had been a relatively quiet night; they all kept it pleasant but there wasn't a lot of laughter.
Despite the fact that he'd just had everyone over for Christmas Eve, Rossi invited everyone back again to ring in the new year together this year. Derek observed the scene in Rossi's house and was awestruck by what a difference a year made.
Christmas Eve had been different, wonderful, but cautious and quiet with Maddie and Devon there, no one quite knowing how to act. But the second time around, at New Year's, there was less caution and more joy. Maddie and Devon were happy to be there and see everyone again, and that took an emotional edge off the night.
Early in the evening, the kids were in Rossi's living room, watching movies and playing cards, Devon sitting in the V of Maddie's legs while she helped him play with Jack and Henry. This was sweet enough, but it was the action at Rossi's dining room table, where the adults were sitting and playing poker, that first started the waterfall of surprise and happiness and even a desire for time's past. No, that wasn't quite right. Derek knew none of them wanted to go backwards, because this present was damned good. Maybe it was a longing for the missing time they couldn't get back.
Spencer had just laid down a straight and was smiling, reaching for the mound of chips in the middle of the table when Emily slyly said, "Not so fast, Dr. Reid."
Spencer paused, but not just because of the full house Emily laid on the table before him. They all paused. The tone, the half-smirk on Emily's face and her glittering eyes - it was like she'd never been gone. And by gone, Derek felt, and he knew the rest of the team felt the same, they weren't going back in their memories to the last year Emily was with them before she left for London. They were going back, back before Doyle, back to the Emily that was quick with the sarcasm and a laugh and was an absolutely integral part of them all.
Their jobs, their focus on human reactions, helped most of them let the moment pass. There was laughter and ribbing and cheers at Emily's hand. But Spencer didn't let it pass. Spencer, who was smarter than them all, who struggled in some part with socially-expected empathy, but at the same time was more empathetic than most people, wasn't quite so quick to let the moment pass.
He blinked. He blinked quickly and tried to smile, but it didn't quite hide the tears in his eyes. Emily stood from the table to reach for the pile of chips, but stopped midway and instead reached to the side to place a hand on Spencer's. She leaned her body over and hugged him quickly. Then she took half the chips on the table and pushed them back towards Spencer. With an understanding smile on her face, she looked at him and said, "I don't want to deny myself the pleasure of kicking your ass at another hand."
Reid laughed, as did the rest of them, and they all moved on and continued playing.
Penelope leaned into Derek as the cards were being dealt and whispered. "There's a balance in The Force."
"What?" asked Derek in amusement.
"It was never quite right when she was gone," Penelope whispered back.
Derek remembered it then, that feeling a couple years back, that Emily provided them with a balance that was needed and missing. It wasn't about work anymore, they'd moved beyond that. But that feeling that they were a cohesive family hadn't quite been there since the day that Emily got on a plane to London; it was back now. Derek could feel it and couldn't stop smiling.
Later than night, as midnight approached, Derek was standing at the kitchen island with an unobstructed view of Emily in the living room. While Maddie, Jack and Henry just seemed to get more amped up as it got later, Devon had finally petered out and crawled into Emily's lap. Derek stood quietly and watched Emily as she talked to Penelope and JJ, with her arms wrapped around Devon, who was asleep with head on her shoulder. She laughed at something JJ said and then brushed her lips softly on Devon's forehead.
"It's something to see, isn't it?" Hotch asked.
Derek jumped, not hearing Hotch approach. Then he laughed and took the beer Hotch was holding out to him. "It is," he replied. "Thank you for the time off."
"Absolutely. Ashley's been fine with us; it's been good the past few days."
Derek nodded. "You know, Hotch, I was thinking about all of us getting a life."
"What do you mean?"
"Did you know that the objectives and mission for the BAU hasn't changed on the books since Rossi and Gideon first wrote it, when they were looking to build the team?"
Hotch shook his head and looked curiously at Derek. "You haven't read it, I'm guessing. You just took over and followed in their footsteps. I never really looked before a couple of days ago. Their idea was a team that would go out and spend 48-72 hours once a week on a case that needed their expertise. The other two or three days a week would be for paperwork and helping from afar. There's nothing in the objectives of the BAU that states or orders we have to take every case that's valid that comes our way. That's just what we do, because it's what Gideon and Rossi did before, and you kept that going. But even if we only solved one case a week, our solve rate would still be higher than all other similar departments in the FBI."
Hotch looked at him. "That's true, but it's hard to say no when we can help people."
Derek shrugged. "I know. But maybe not think about it as saying no to other people and instead saying yes to being humans with more in their lives besides work." Derek tipped the neck of his beer bottle and nodded his head towards Jack, where he was sitting and laughing with Maddie about something. "Life goes fast, Hotch. I already feel like Emily and Maddie and Devon have been with me for an eternity. You'll regret all you missed when he's grown and gone."
Hotch looked at Jack and then back at Derek. "Is this your subtle way of telling me you're ultimately going to end up quitting?"
Derek shook his head. "Emily and I haven't talked about work yet. I can't really tell you what's ultimately going to happen, but I will say I can't really imagine my life without the BAU. I want my life to be more than that, though. You're the boss, you know. Just because it's always been done one way doesn't mean our jobs can't be done a different way. Just giving you something to think about."
Hotch stared at him and then looked back at Jack. Just then Rossie announced, "Two minutes until midnight!"
Derek smiled at Hotch and walked towards the living room. He remembered his focus becoming singular in that moment, when he zeroed in on Emily as she stood from her chair with Devon still in her arms. He remembered the slope of her neck, where Devon's sleeping face nestled against it, chocolate brown against ivory. He remembered before he got to Emily, he felt a small hand slip into his and looked down to see Maddie there, smiling at him.
As the seconds wound down, he placed one hand over Maddie's shoulders and one arm around Emily's back. He didn't watch the ball drop on the television, and he had very little recollection of anyone else in the room in that moment. There was Devon, fast asleep, and Maddie with her arms around both him and Emily, and then there was Emily, with her eyes looking at him.
He counted down the numbers, with his mouth moving but no sound coming out, and the final seconds ticked by on the year.
Before they got to ten second mark on the countdown, he remembered staring into Emily's eyes and smiling. "I'm trying to think of something really profound to say right now. Something poetic that will make you fall in love with me all over again."
And Emily smiled. With one arm around Devon, and her other hand on Maddie's head, she leaned against him and whispered, "I do that every day."