Her Mother's Daughter - Hotchniss

chapter nineteen: la la latch

"Hush, don't speak / When you spit your venom / Keep it shut, I hate it / When you hiss and preach / About your new messiah / 'Cause your theories catch fire / I can't find your silver lining / I don't mean to judge / But when you read your speech, it's tiring / Enough is enough / I'm covering my ears like a kid / When your words mean nothing I go la la la"

-

The night before Easter, Emily and Hotch went on a date night, and Bridget was watching Jack. It was pretty straightforward, he got into bed at eight with hardly any hiccups, but she heard knocks on the door at around 9:30. She grabbed an umbrella as a weapon and looked through the peephole.

'Fuck,' she mouthed to herself when she saw her grandmother. She put the umbrella back in its place and prepared as she opened the door. "Grandma! Hi!"

"Bridget!" Elizabeth hugged her, ever restrained, and Bridget matched her energy. "How have you been, dear?"

"Good, good, and you?"

"Stand up straight, don't slouch." As Elizabeth walked by and turned her back to Bridget, the teen rolled her eyes dramatically. "And don't disrespect me,"

"No, ma'am." Bridget removed all the sarcasm. "What brings you here?"

"What, I can't see my favorite daughter and granddaughter?"

Don't pretend like you care about her. You didn't give a single fuck when she died, why do you care now? You need something from her.

"Oh, I was just wondering," said Bridget back. "My mom's not here right now. She's on a case,"

"Oh. Well, aren't you going to give me a tour of the house?"

"I was actually about to get into bed..." This lie would completely fail her, Bridget knew this.

"It's 9:30. You're sixteen,"

"Seventeen,"

"Really? Last time I checked you were sixteen, Bridget, I think you might be wrong on that one," Elizabeth chuckled, but she was dead-serious.

"No, my seventeenth birthday was three months ago. I'm seventeen now, Grandma." I'm wrong? About my own age?

"Hmph. Well. If your mother's on a case, could you call her for me?"

"I—I can try."

Just have to get a word in to let Mom know. Shouldn't be too hard.

"Hey, baby, what's up?"

"How's the case going? It sucks you have to spend Easter in Montana."

Emily was silent for a moment before replying, "I know, baby, I'm really sorry, it's just a circus out here. I can't talk long, is everything okay?" There had to be a reason for this, so she would play along. Hotch stared.

"Hello, Emily,"

"Mother?" Emily rolled her eyes and Hotch furrowed his brow from across the table. "Are you with Bridget right now?"

"I'm at your apartment. I was hoping to talk to you in person, but..."

"Yeah, I'm sorry, things are crazy on this case." She motioned for Hotch to say something semi-audibly that could pass as being on a case.

"Prentiss, what did you find at Sinclair's?" he asked, just loud enough to be heard over the phone.

"Listen, Mom, I gotta go, I'll call you when I get home. Bye, Bridge." What a relief.

"What was that about?" asked Hotch. Emily sighed and felt her anger building slow inside her.

"My mother. She was at our house. Bridget got rid of her, thank god, but she'll be back." Emily rolled her eyes and took another bite of her chicken.