A/N: Ahem, so this is me NOT only posting once this week…okay yeah it is, but heyyyy it's a chapter right? So it counts. Also, I am outraged to hear that they are only playing 2 more eps of CM before the Christmas hiatus bullshit? When they're already filming ep 15? Bullshit. So here's the chapter Emily's POV btw.
A/N 2: This is a MUCH MUCH MUCH shorter version than was originally wrote, but my computer shut down unexpectedly…didn't save shit. *sighs*
Don Corleone: "We have known each other many years, but this is the first time you've come to me for counsel or for help. I can't remember the last time you invited me to your house for a cup of coffee, even though my wife is godmother to your only child. But let's be frank here. You never wanted my friendship. And you feared to be in my debt."
"No! NO way Ian! You—you've really lost your mother FUCKING mind!" Emily yelled from across the bedroom.
"Emily. I have to. He came to me as a friend. His daughters are gone. Missing, from their own beds in the dead of night!" Ian yelled back.
Emily bit her bottom lip looking down at her shoes. Ian had just informed her that an old friend from Ireland had contacted him a few weeks ago. An old friend who just happened to have also been in the "business"; he'd been receiving threats against his family, mainly his twin girls, and 3 days ago they had gone missing from their home in the middle of the night… and now Ian was going to help find them.
Emily squeezed her eyes shut. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes. She was beyond furious. He was going to leave her, and his children, to help someone who could potentially draw unwanted attention to their newly reconstructed lives.
"Don't say that. Don't draw me in like that. It's not fair!" She said pointing a finger at him. He knew telling her that the two little girls were missing would tug at her heart strings… they were a little younger than Declan. "Why," She cried, "Why you? He has no one else to turn to? Our kids were just baptized this morning and you're ready to leave already?" She pleaded.
"I—I have to…Cameron came to me; I taught him everything he knows about the business, I was like—like a mentor." Ian said slowly.
"So what? You're like the Irish Godfather? Your daughter's not getting married, but she was just baptized and you're granting people ridiculous favors on the same fucking day?" She yelled. She was so angry she just couldn't understand WHY he needed to do this. What about their family? He'd risked everything to get her and Declan back, they'd had their own children… and now he was ready to leave.
Ian gave a small snort and the corner of his mouth twitched. She watched as he sighed, sitting back down on the bed, rubbing his chin absentmindedly. He gave her a long calculating look, there was always that little sparkle that made his eyes look like aquamarines that any other time would have gave her goose bumps in attraction, but now she felt like they were laser beams into her brain. There was something else he wasn't telling her…
"Emily there's something else I need to tell you. And I'ma gonna tell you now you aren't gonna like it." Ian drawled in that sexy Irish brogue of his. Emily sub-consciously took a step backwards. This wasn't going to be good.
"What?" She whispered hesitantly, turning around to face the window…She almost didn't want to know.
"You're coming with me." Emily sucked in a breath. He was right; she wasn't going to like that at all. Not. At. All. Wait—he didn't even ask her. It was a command. No she definitely didn't like this AT ALL.
"Whh-what?" She whispered again, shaking her head. He was drunk, totally insane, losing his marbles…
"As Lauren Reynolds." Three words that stopped her heart. She turned back around slowly, her head tilted slightly. Her hand was shaking as she nibbled on her fingernail. What the hell could he possibly mean "as Lauren Reynolds?"
"Lauren Reynolds is dead." She said in monotone, for what seemed like the millionth time in her life. After this whole "Ian's Fateful Return" she thought she'd never have to say it again in her lifetime.
"Come again?" Ian said quizzically.
"Lauren Reynolds is dead." She repeated much more firmly, looking at him. There were no tears now. Just plain emotion in emotionless form. Detached, unfeeling look, while inside there was a swirling vortex of entropy.
Ian began to explain the situation in more detail, but it felt like Emily had her ears stuffed with cotton. Garbled noise that didn't make any sense to her. Next thing she knew she was putting stuff into a go bag…Not really comprehending what she was doing. She was in a fog. She couldn't leave her babies, but the thought of those 2 girls, who had nothing to do with their fathers business didn't deserve whatever was happening to them. For the greater good, For the greater good. If they found the little girls, and whoever had taken them, one less bad guy or *guys* in the world. More safe for her children to grow up in this world. She kept repeating that, still not listening to Ian's instructions or briefing on the situation. She just packed, and prepared herself mentally.
Last time she'd been Lauren Reynolds she'd fallen in love, had that love yanked away, oh and she'd "died" in a car accident 2 weeks later… When she'd made it back stateside, she immediately needed therapy so she went to a different town, to a private female psychiatrist. Aside from the love thing, being undercover for that long had taken its toll on her and she wanted to make sure she was up for anything. Again.
She already knew the answer, and so did Ian. That's why he'd volunteered BOTH of them. That sneaky bastard KNEW she would jump on board eventually. She finished packing, setting her bag by the door next to his… He knew….asshole.