Emily was on her stomach, fishing toys out from under her bed and wondering how the hell Jayde managed to lose so many things under there (and also where the hell all these toys had come from in the first place). She wasn't sure whether CPS was going to look under the bed, but she was cleaning every last nook and cranny of the apartment because she'd be damned if a few dust bunnies were going to keep her from her daughter...

Her phone rang, startling her, and she bumped her head on the bedframe. "Fuck!" she hissed, pain pulsing in her skull. "Hello?" she answered the phone, kind of hoping it was JJ and they could end their freeze out.

Unfortunately, though...

"Emily?" John replied.

"John?" Emily said, a note of distaste in her voice. "Why the hell are you calling?"

She could practically hear the roll of his eyes. "Because we've got a fucking kid together..."

She scoffed. "I wouldn't exactly used the word together since you're a huge fucking deadbeat who left me knocked up and homeless," she said snidely. "Or did you forget that part of the story?"

"Are you going to hold that over my head forever?" he demanded, exasperated.

She pretended to think for a moment. "Not forever. Just for eighteen years."

"That's awfully petty of you."

Huffing, she replied, "No, petty would be if I had no reason to hate you, but you've given me plenty of reasons."

"I just want to talk, Em," he persisted. "Can't we just have a conversation like adults?"

Under her breath, she muttered, "I doubt it because you're still a child..."

Either not having heard her response or pretending he hadn't, he said, "Meet me at Denny's in an hour?" It was inflected like a question, but it wasn't intended as one.

"Fine."

"So, umm... How are you?" John awkwardly stammered, uncertain now that he was face to face with the woman he'd once thought was The One... He perused the menu to avoid having to make eye contact with her.

Emily heaved a sigh, eager to get this over and done with so she could go back to proving she deserved to have her daughter back. "I'm fine," she said, without bothering to elaborate. She certainly wasn't about to bear her heart to her deadbeat ex and tell him that she'd unjustly had her daughter taken from her, lest he – for some bizarre reason – feel compelled to fight for custody...she was barely hanging on to her sanity while Jayde was with Fran, she had no idea how she'd maintain her tenuous grasp if Jayde were to go to John fucking Cooley of all people...

"I'm fine too. Thanks for asking," he joked weakly.

With a roll of her eyes, Emily demanded, "Why am I here, John? You may be able to dick around all day, but some of us have children that need taking care of, so..." She let the accusation hang there in the hopes that he'd feel at least a little guilty...not that she had a lot of faith in him.

He refused to take the bait, though. "I was thinking that maybe tonight, you and I could, I don't know...do something?" he said, attempting his most charming smile.

She gave a snort of laughter. "Good one, John. Unless you're planning on taking me to the bank and writing a big fat cheque for all the child support you owe me...I'm not interested."

"Come on..." he persisted. "You clearly need some stress relief. And I know you know that, when it comes to stress relief, I..."

She didn't let him finish the sentence before scoffing. "Please tell me you didn't call me here because you want to get laid," she snapped. "I cannot believe you right now."

John wasn't about to be so easily deterred. "It doesn't have to mean anything – it's not like we never did it before."

"And look where that got me!" Emily replied pointedly. "Do you really think I'd make that fucking mistake a second time? I already have one kid without a dad, I'm not going to do that to another child."

"God, Em...when did you become such a fucking stuck up bitch?" he said snidely. "You clearly really need someone to fuck you like the whore you are..." He laughed cruelly, his true colours finally showing themselves now that it was clear he wasn't getting what he'd come here for...

Glare absolutely frosty, Emily bit out the words, "Don't you fucking dare accuse me of being a whore!"

"The truth hurts, huh?" he said with a humourless laugh. "You may have everyone fooled into thinking you're such a good mother, but I know you, Em. You're just some dumb fucking slut who ended up with a kid by accident and now you take your clothes off for money because it's the only fucking thing you're good at!"

"Shut up, John!" Emily shouted, attracting stares from nearby diners. "Shut up!"

His gaze flicked over her like she were a disgusting insect. "You're lucky I've got my own secrets, otherwise I'd report your ass to CPS and have them take away the little bitch..."

He didn't get any further in his insults because the second the words left his lips, Emily reached across the table and slapped him. "Don't you ever speak about my daughter like that!" she hissed. "Or, I swear to God, I will castrate you myself!"

He clutched his quickly reddening cheek, eyes wide like he couldn't quite believe she'd hit him.

"You can say what you like about me, but my daughter is off-limits," she growled, voice low and dangerous. "I'd strongly suggest you never contact me again."

He raised a brow. "What if I want to see our daughter?" he retorted, simply to piss her off, rather than out of any genuine desire to connect with his flesh and blood.

"I think it's time you stop pretending you'll ever be a man, John, and own up to your responsibilities. You're always going to be a fucking boy..."