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rsadelleSummary: The last thing Mike's expecting when someone knocks on his door at eight-thirty on a Tuesday night is Evie Beckett.
Disclaimer: Fiction.
Warning: Evie Beckett is a main character in this story.
The last thing Mike's expecting when someone knocks on his door at eight-thirty on a Tuesday night is Evie Beckett.
"Can I come in?" She sounds even younger than she looks, even with her chin jutting out.
Mike lets her in. "Do your parents know you're here?"
"No, and you can't tell them!"
Oh, Jesus. "Evie, if you're here, your parents have to be freaking out."
"Don't tell them." Evie takes a step back toward the door. "I'll run again."
Mike rubs at the bridge of his nose. He thought he was through with Beckett drama after Evie was born and Christine's family stopped hating Bill so much. "I'll tell them not to come," he says, "but I'm calling them. They need to know you're safe." He points Evie toward the kitchen and goes outside to make the call.
Bill answers his phone with, "Now is not a good time."
Mike says, "Evie's here," before Bill can hang up on him.
"What the hell is she doing there?" Bill yells, "Christine! Evie's at Mike's." His voice goes back to something resembling a normal volume. "I'm putting you on speaker."
"How did she get to you?" Christine sounds even more frantic than Bill.
"I have no fucking idea." Mike looks through the window to where Evie's assembling a sandwich in his kitchen. "Don't do anything tonight, okay?"
"What the fuck do you mean don't do anything? That's our daughter!" Bill again.
Fuck, Mike does not need to be in the middle of this. "At least wait until tomorrow, okay? She said she'll run again if you come here."
"That's our daughter," Bill says again, and this time he stutters through it and sounds like he's about to cry.
"Jesus, I know, okay?" Mike watches Evie sit down at the table with her sandwich and a soda. "She's safe. Just let it be until tomorrow, okay?"
"Tell her we love her," Christine says, low, and Mike knows he and Evie are winning this round.
"I will." As soon as Mike's done with them, he texts Emma: Unexpected houseguest. Evie. They're used to people dropping by unannounced, but they usually try to warn each other as soon as they know.
Evie's done with her sandwich by the time Mike goes back inside. "I'm really tired," she says. "Can I just go to bed?"
"Your parents love you," he says, and he doesn't wait for a response before he says, "You know where the guest room is."
*
Mike checks in on Evie later, tapping lightly at the door before opening it. She's fast asleep well before Emma gets home.
"Becketts on our doorstep." Emma sits down next to him on the couch.
Mike kisses her, easy and familiar. "Just like old times."
"What's she doing here?"
"No idea. I wouldn't presume to divine the motivations of a Beckett." Mike puts his hand on Emma's thigh, not trying to start anything, just touching her. "How was your day?"
"Good. Long, but good. We got what we needed." Emma stands up and brings his hand with her. "Come to bed."
*
Mike's scrambling tofu with bell peppers and onions when Evie turns up in the kitchen in the morning. He pours her a cup of coffee without talking - he's seen both of her parents first thing in the morning - and waves her toward the milk and sugar.
Emma comes in a while later, just before the tofu's ready, and kisses Mike the same way she does every morning. "Looks good."
"Five minutes," Mike answers. He gets out three plates while it's cooking and dishes up enough for all three of them.
"I shouldn't be so late tonight," Emma says when they're eating. "We're supposed to be done at four, so really more like six."
Mike nods. "Want me to do dinner?"
"Yeah, if you can. What else do you have going today?"
Mike shrugs. Dealing with Evie is too obvious to say. "Grocery shopping, but nothing else for sure. Want anything that's not on the list?"
"Don't think so."
Evie stays quiet through their whole conversation, the pattern their mornings usually take.
"Make yourself useful," Mike says to her when Emma goes to finish getting ready. "Dishes."
Evie makes a face but gets up and runs water into the sink.
"What are you going to do with her?" Emma asks when Mike finds her in the bedroom.
"No idea." Mike rests his chin on her shoulder. "Any advice for dealing with teenage girls?"
"You're the Beckett expert." Emma gathers up whatever's migrated out of her purse since the night before. "Good luck."
*
Evie lasts until midafternoon when she does her best to pick a fight with him. Mike is mature enough not to let her rile him up.
When it escalates to her shouting, "Don't you even care?" at him, he says, "Yes, and so do your parents."
"No they don't! They don't! They don't even know who I am. I'm not anything like them. Even Aunt Courtney calls me a changeling."
The sulking and shouting are both pretty standard Beckett behaviors. It's probably best not to mention that to her now.
"And I know how to use the internet. I know people said I wasn't Dad's when I was born."
"Whoa." Mike puts a stop to that one. "That's not true. Your mom hasn't looked at anyone since she met your dad."
Evie looks away, like she knows she went too far. "It doesn't matter. I'm not like them. They're all, 'What about the guitar?' and, 'Want to try out my camera?' and, 'You used to love drawing.' Yeah, when I was three! Everyone loves coloring when they're three! I don't want to learn the guitar or how to sing or how to draw or any of it!"
"What do you want?"
"I want to be an engineer," Evie says with more finality than anything else she'd said. "I want to build, like, bridges and highways and stuff."
Christ, no wonder the kid thinks she's a changeling. "Okay," Mike says.
"And no one's even noticed I'm a lesbian!" Evie's eyes go wide after she shouts that, and she practically falls into a chair.
"Well," Mike says after a while, "that was a lot of stuff you wanted to say."
Evie shrugs without looking at him. "Yeah, I guess."
Mike has no idea how he ended up doing this thing even though he and Emma chose not to have kids, but now he's gotta do it right. "You want to talk about any of it now?"
Evie shrugs again, but she goes to get her laptop and shows him all the stuff she has bookmarked about good engineering schools and some youth engineering summer program she wants to do next year.
*
"I don't know," Mike says when he talks to Bill later, while Evie's slicing vegetables for dinner. "I think maybe she needs some space."
"She's sixteen! She doesn't need space."
"We took Adam on tour when he was that age," Mike points out. "Look, she's fine, okay? Let her stay here for a couple of days. I'll try to get her to call you. Just be glad she did it during summer vacation."
"When she comes back," Bill mutters, "I'm going to lock her up until she's thirty."
When Mike goes back in the house, he says, "Your dad says hi and he loves you. Can you get the mushrooms out of the fridge?"
Disclaimer: Fiction.
Warning: Evie Beckett is a main character in this story.
The last thing Mike's expecting when someone knocks on his door at eight-thirty on a Tuesday night is Evie Beckett.
"Can I come in?" She sounds even younger than she looks, even with her chin jutting out.
Mike lets her in. "Do your parents know you're here?"
"No, and you can't tell them!"
Oh, Jesus. "Evie, if you're here, your parents have to be freaking out."
"Don't tell them." Evie takes a step back toward the door. "I'll run again."
Mike rubs at the bridge of his nose. He thought he was through with Beckett drama after Evie was born and Christine's family stopped hating Bill so much. "I'll tell them not to come," he says, "but I'm calling them. They need to know you're safe." He points Evie toward the kitchen and goes outside to make the call.
Bill answers his phone with, "Now is not a good time."
Mike says, "Evie's here," before Bill can hang up on him.
"What the hell is she doing there?" Bill yells, "Christine! Evie's at Mike's." His voice goes back to something resembling a normal volume. "I'm putting you on speaker."
"How did she get to you?" Christine sounds even more frantic than Bill.
"I have no fucking idea." Mike looks through the window to where Evie's assembling a sandwich in his kitchen. "Don't do anything tonight, okay?"
"What the fuck do you mean don't do anything? That's our daughter!" Bill again.
Fuck, Mike does not need to be in the middle of this. "At least wait until tomorrow, okay? She said she'll run again if you come here."
"That's our daughter," Bill says again, and this time he stutters through it and sounds like he's about to cry.
"Jesus, I know, okay?" Mike watches Evie sit down at the table with her sandwich and a soda. "She's safe. Just let it be until tomorrow, okay?"
"Tell her we love her," Christine says, low, and Mike knows he and Evie are winning this round.
"I will." As soon as Mike's done with them, he texts Emma: Unexpected houseguest. Evie. They're used to people dropping by unannounced, but they usually try to warn each other as soon as they know.
Evie's done with her sandwich by the time Mike goes back inside. "I'm really tired," she says. "Can I just go to bed?"
"Your parents love you," he says, and he doesn't wait for a response before he says, "You know where the guest room is."
*
Mike checks in on Evie later, tapping lightly at the door before opening it. She's fast asleep well before Emma gets home.
"Becketts on our doorstep." Emma sits down next to him on the couch.
Mike kisses her, easy and familiar. "Just like old times."
"What's she doing here?"
"No idea. I wouldn't presume to divine the motivations of a Beckett." Mike puts his hand on Emma's thigh, not trying to start anything, just touching her. "How was your day?"
"Good. Long, but good. We got what we needed." Emma stands up and brings his hand with her. "Come to bed."
*
Mike's scrambling tofu with bell peppers and onions when Evie turns up in the kitchen in the morning. He pours her a cup of coffee without talking - he's seen both of her parents first thing in the morning - and waves her toward the milk and sugar.
Emma comes in a while later, just before the tofu's ready, and kisses Mike the same way she does every morning. "Looks good."
"Five minutes," Mike answers. He gets out three plates while it's cooking and dishes up enough for all three of them.
"I shouldn't be so late tonight," Emma says when they're eating. "We're supposed to be done at four, so really more like six."
Mike nods. "Want me to do dinner?"
"Yeah, if you can. What else do you have going today?"
Mike shrugs. Dealing with Evie is too obvious to say. "Grocery shopping, but nothing else for sure. Want anything that's not on the list?"
"Don't think so."
Evie stays quiet through their whole conversation, the pattern their mornings usually take.
"Make yourself useful," Mike says to her when Emma goes to finish getting ready. "Dishes."
Evie makes a face but gets up and runs water into the sink.
"What are you going to do with her?" Emma asks when Mike finds her in the bedroom.
"No idea." Mike rests his chin on her shoulder. "Any advice for dealing with teenage girls?"
"You're the Beckett expert." Emma gathers up whatever's migrated out of her purse since the night before. "Good luck."
*
Evie lasts until midafternoon when she does her best to pick a fight with him. Mike is mature enough not to let her rile him up.
When it escalates to her shouting, "Don't you even care?" at him, he says, "Yes, and so do your parents."
"No they don't! They don't! They don't even know who I am. I'm not anything like them. Even Aunt Courtney calls me a changeling."
The sulking and shouting are both pretty standard Beckett behaviors. It's probably best not to mention that to her now.
"And I know how to use the internet. I know people said I wasn't Dad's when I was born."
"Whoa." Mike puts a stop to that one. "That's not true. Your mom hasn't looked at anyone since she met your dad."
Evie looks away, like she knows she went too far. "It doesn't matter. I'm not like them. They're all, 'What about the guitar?' and, 'Want to try out my camera?' and, 'You used to love drawing.' Yeah, when I was three! Everyone loves coloring when they're three! I don't want to learn the guitar or how to sing or how to draw or any of it!"
"What do you want?"
"I want to be an engineer," Evie says with more finality than anything else she'd said. "I want to build, like, bridges and highways and stuff."
Christ, no wonder the kid thinks she's a changeling. "Okay," Mike says.
"And no one's even noticed I'm a lesbian!" Evie's eyes go wide after she shouts that, and she practically falls into a chair.
"Well," Mike says after a while, "that was a lot of stuff you wanted to say."
Evie shrugs without looking at him. "Yeah, I guess."
Mike has no idea how he ended up doing this thing even though he and Emma chose not to have kids, but now he's gotta do it right. "You want to talk about any of it now?"
Evie shrugs again, but she goes to get her laptop and shows him all the stuff she has bookmarked about good engineering schools and some youth engineering summer program she wants to do next year.
*
"I don't know," Mike says when he talks to Bill later, while Evie's slicing vegetables for dinner. "I think maybe she needs some space."
"She's sixteen! She doesn't need space."
"We took Adam on tour when he was that age," Mike points out. "Look, she's fine, okay? Let her stay here for a couple of days. I'll try to get her to call you. Just be glad she did it during summer vacation."
"When she comes back," Bill mutters, "I'm going to lock her up until she's thirty."
When Mike goes back in the house, he says, "Your dad says hi and he loves you. Can you get the mushrooms out of the fridge?"