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hb-writes · 9 months ago

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Within My Purview

Summary: Emma, Mia, Elliot, and Christian are in Aspen for a sibling getaway. After Emma twists her ankle on a hike, she has to stay behind and miss out on the evening's festivities. When Elliot decides to come back early, he can't pass up the opportunity to mess with his little sister.

Prompt: “Quit trying to scare me! I know that’s you!”

Characters: OC Emmeline "Emma" Grey, Elliot Grey & Ryan (Emma's personal security detail)

Warnings: None?

Fifty Shades (Emmeline Grey) Masterlist

There was once a time when Emma wouldn’t allow the Greys to leave her alone, not that she had ever been truly alone—there had always been household staff close by when she was young, even if family wasn’t and once she moved out of her parents’ home, there had almost always been personal security. But when Emma was young, she’d always insisted on going along. She’d always insisted on accompanying her siblings and parents out in the world whether they wanted her company or not.

These days, Emma didn’t seem able to get enough alone time though and she had barely argued with Christian’s decree that she stay behind for the evening, citing the discharge papers from the urgent care clinic she’d been at most of the afternoon having her tender ankle looked over.

Her sister Mia had been far more vocal with her complaints that Emma would be missing out on the activities she had planned for their sibling getaway. Far more upset that all four of them wouldn’t be present for dinner and the ballet and whatever else she had planned to surprise them with in the course of the evening. The whole trip had been Mia’s idea in the first place and something which the boys had agreed to almost begrudgingly. It was just the siblings—not parents or partners—and they were all meant to take turns planning activities for the four of them to do together.

Mia had cursed Christian for being such a boring spoilsport. And she cursed Elliot for taking them on the hike where Emma had twisted her ankle. And when she was done cursing their brothers, Mia cursed Emma for being so damned clumsy in the first place, and for not revolting harder against Christian’s edicts.

Mia’s curses had riled a secondary bit of fight in Emma and she had acted disappointed enough when Christian shut her down that Mia seemed at least a little appeased, even if she was still pouting. Elliot had been the one to then point out that Mia should really look at it as a win—really, how often had she had the opportunity to spend alone time with both Grey brothers? Not since the three of them were teenagers, probably.

Emma clung to her air of disappointment until the door closed behind her siblings, but truthfully, she was grateful for the excuse. Even if she hadn’t twisted her ankle, she was exhausted from hiking. If she had joined her siblings, Emma had no doubt that she would have been yawning through dinner and asleep halfway through the ballet.

It was better to be yawning and half-asleep in front of her laptop, with only her personal security detail for company. She hadn’t seen Ryan since he made sure she was settled, reminding her that he would be close if she needed anything. It had been one of Christian’s conditions, that Ryan stay close by while the others went out.

She was sure Ryan was somewhere within shouting distance now but she hadn’t called for him, not even when her stomach grumbled, wholly unsatisfied with the snacks she’d accumulated on the coffee table before her siblings left. Emma had no intention of asking for his help anyway. If she grew hungry enough, she’d hobble over the kitchen on her own.

Emma clasped a hand over her stomach as it growled, trying to stifle the sound which seemed to reverberate off the walls of the vast great room. Emma had never noticed it before, but every sound seemed to echo in the vast space now that it was just her. Even the little ones.

She had passed countless getaways—weekends and longer stretches—in her brother’s house in Aspen, but Emma couldn’t escape the fact that she seemed to be seeing a different side of it tonight. It certainly sounded like a different house, what with the rain showers which had been coming and going for much of the evening and the random sounds whose origins Emma couldn’t quite identify.

Emma was only a little over halfway through her movie, but she had already lost count of how many times she’d paused the movie in order to strain her ears listening for a sound she could’ve sworn she’d heard, her heartbeat rising just the slightest bit each time she failed to come up with a reasonable explanation.

She knew the house well-enough that she could picture what lay beyond the glass that spanned the entire wall behind her from ceiling to floor. She could envision the deck and the landscaped yard and the grand expanse of woods just beyond that, but all Emma could actually see now was a sheet of black, the night noticeably darker here than she was used to in Seattle.

Emma paused her movie now, shifting to peer over the back of the couch and out towards the deck. She was near certain she’d heard a tapping sound—gentle, but distinct.

Deliberate, almost like a pattern.

Hearing nothing further, and not being able to see anything through the glass either, Emma set her laptop aside and shifted her attention to the dulling pain in her ankle. She rubbed at the skin, assessing its progress. It was only a little sore now, surely helped along by the fact that she’d actually been adhering to the doctor’s orders—resting and icing it as prescribed, even if she remained convinced it wasn’t entirely necessary. She was mostly fine. It wasn’t a serious injury and she was near certain she would be walking on it fine by morning.

But it was one of those things that hadn’t been worth the fight. She knew if she had really argued the point, Christian would have just placed a call to their mother, who probably would have flown herself out to see to the injury herself.

Tap…tap, tap, tap.

Emma stilled, her gaze quickly shifting from her ankle to the far end of the deck, opposite from where she would’ve sworn the noise had sounded just before. She shifted, leaning over the back of the couch as she squinted, trying to see more than a sea of black, but her own reflection in the darkened glass was more clear than anything that lay beyond it.

Tap…tap, tap, tap.

“Um…Ryan?” Emma called out into the quiet, trying to keep her voice calm even as it struggled around the sudden lump forming in her throat.

Even with as much as Emma fought her brother on the necessity of her personal security detail, she knew it was in place for a reason. It was rare that Ryan had to intervene in any real way to ensure her safety these days—he was much more frequently called to remind Emma of some sort of security protocol she was close to skirting, either intentionally or not—but there had been enough real threats in recent history that Emma couldn’t help the nervousness that swarmed her senses, the quick approach of her bodyguard’s footsteps the only thing allowing her to take a proper breath.

Emma shifted to push herself up off the couch as Ryan arrived in the darkened great room and he flicked on the lights as he proceeded to her side, blocking her way before she could rise fully from the couch.

“Do you need something, Miss Grey?” It was rare that Emma asked the man for anything aside from his discretion—something he was never obliged to agree to—but Ryan always seemed keen for the possibility of her willingly accepting his help regardless. He remained perpetually hopeful and perpetually steadfast in his following of the rules…a stickler for following each and every one of his employer’s relentless, nit-picky directives. Emma supposed that was why he, specifically, had been allocated to her personal security detail. Ryan was nearly impossible to sway as far as Emma could tell. “I can—”

“No, I…” Emma glanced toward the windows as Ryan set a hand on her arm, lowering her back to the couch cushion. “I keep hearing something. A tapping. There.” She pointed to the bottom left corner of the glass. “And over there, too.” Emma pointed to the right as well, feeling silly as she clocked the distance between the two spots she’d identified.

Emma didn’t need to say anything more before Ryan stepped toward the far wall, flicking one of the switches and bathing the deck in a sea of light. Emma closed her eyes for a long moment, feeling stupid that she hadn’t thought to do that. When she opened her eyes, Ryan was busy peering through the glass into the back yard, checking the locks as he went.

“See anything?” Emma asked as he made a second pass, retracing his steps.

Ryan shook his head as he returned to her side, slipping his phone from his pocket as he walked and tapping as he pulled up the feed for the external cameras. As with all of the Grey properties, they were protected with a number of cameras. A number of advanced security measures. Emma willed herself to remember that, to remember that she was probably safer here than most other places in the world.

“Sorry, Ryan. I’m probably just being paranoid…just hearing things,” Emma offered, a bit of stubborn heat rushing to her cheeks as she shook her head. It was bad enough that his night off had been commandeered on account of her needing to stay behind. Even if she was certain he was being paid handsomely for the extra shift, she still felt a bit guilty about it. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“It’s not a bother, Miss Grey,” he answered, almost absently as he watched his phone screen. “And you’re not hearing things either,” he added, turning the phone toward her to display one of the camera feeds that showed an unmistakable image of Elliot crouching behind a deck lounger.

“He’s lucky you’re not the shoot first, ask questions later type of security professional,” Emma snorted though she knew Ryan was, in fact, that type of security professional if the situation warranted it. All of the people Christian employed were that type when needed to be.

“You want me to take care of him?” Ryan asked, the slightest glint catching in his eye that almost made Emma laugh. Shows of camaraderie between the two of them were few and far between, and Emma was tempted to let him enact a little revenge on her behalf. The idea of Ryan sneaking out back and subduing Elliot in the same manner he would a real intruder was certainly intriguing if nothing else, but Emma shook her head.

“No, no.” Emma rolled her eyes. “Not within your purview. I’ll take care of him.”

She pushed off the couch, not allowing Ryan to stop or help her as she moved around him, one hand on the back of the couch as she limped toward the doors. Emma eased out onto the deck, a hand still on the door and shivering as the cool air bit her exposed skin.

“You can quit trying to scare me now!” she shouted. “I know it’s you!”

Emma shivered again as the accusation was met only by a windswept, eerie silence. She leaned to the left, trying to see behind the lounger where she’d seen him hiding in the feed on Ryan’s phone, but even with the deck illuminated, she couldn’t see a thing.

“It’s not funny, Elliot,” she insisted. “You’re not supposed to be messing around like this.”

Emma gulped at the resounding silence and turned back toward Ryan who now stood only a few steps away from the open door, his attention split between Emma and the phone screen still settled in his hand. “Can you see where—”

Her half-whispered question transformed into a strangled yelp as a pair of arms closed in on her, slipping under her knees and around her back to sweep her off her feet.

“And you’re not supposed to be putting weight on that ankle,” Elliot answered as if that particular infraction had been enough of an excuse for his trying to mess with her.

“Put me down!” Emma shouted as she slapped his shoulder.

Elliot chuckled, ignoring the request as he stepped through the open door, offering a greeting to Ryan as he passed.

Emma twisted in Elliot’s arm to look at Ryan. “Are you going to let him manhandle me like this?”

The hint of a smile played on Ryan’s face as he watched her struggle, the same bit of mischievousness she could have sworn she’d seen when he’d been ready to humble Elliot on her behalf, only it seemed to be turned on her now.

“I’m not sure that interfering in matters between you and Mr. Grey is within my purview, Miss Grey.”

Emma scoffed, even if she’d set herself up for that one in declining his support before. It had probably been her one chance to cash in on that sort of support. She should have known better than to expect the staff would ever intervene between her and her brothers. They certainly never aligned with her if Christian was involved.

“Two minutes ago you were—” Emma huffed as Elliot dropped her unceremoniously onto the couch. “Two minutes ago,” she repeated, glaring at her brother before she shifted her gaze to Ryan, “you were ready to take him out for me.”

Elliot whistled, giving Ryan an impressed nod before turning back to Emma. “Well, I’m glad that didn’t work out. I can’t imagine getting ‘taken out’ by Ryan would be a particularly enjoyable experience.”

“Her words, not mine, Mr. Grey.”

“Suck up,” Emma muttered toward Ryan before looking back to her brother. “You know it was immature trying to scare me like that. Christian would be pissed, wasting resources like that.”

Emma had heard Christian use the exact same words to describe her dalliance where security measures were concerned—an immature waste of resources.

Elliot snorted. “Well, you and I both know Christian’s no fun ninety-three percent of the time. And before you go preparing to tattle on me, consider that there’s a bag of hot, delicious food out on the deck.”

Ryan stepped outside without being asked, returning a moment later with the brown paper bag. He closed the door and secured the lock before passing the bag over to Elliot.

“I hope you brought something for Ryan, too,” she said, nodding toward him. “Especially after you created all that extra work for him and all.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to here? Some sort of monster?” Elliot asked as he retrieved two boxes from the bag, passing them off to Ryan who stammered out a mix of gratitude and insistence that it wasn’t necessary before he excused himself, leaving the siblings alone.

Emma watched him go, shifting her gaze to Elliot only once Ryan was gone. Emma reached out for the bag, the delicious scent already permeating the room causing her stomach to growl.

“You know, you kind of are a monster,” she offered.

Elliot pulled the bag from her reach just before her fingers closed around the handles. “Really?”

Emma slumped back against the couch cushions, wondering whether it was a fight worth pursuing before the food was firmly in her grasp.

“Maybe just a little bit?” she answered.

“Are you sure I’m not actually the best brother in the world? The handsome devil who brought two of your favorites? The cultured genius who volunteered to forgo the ballet with his siblings to attend to you in your time of need?”

“Is there tiramisu in that bag?” Emma asked, barely managing to ignore all of the other ridiculous assertions he’d made along with the pronouncement of his procuring her ‘favorites.’

Elliot nodded. “You know, Christian said you didn’t need any of it…Insisted there was plenty of food at home. So what’ll it be? Am I a monster or…?”

“Hand over the bag and you can be whatever you want,” Emma answered.

Elliot snorted as he deposited the bag into her lap.

“Favorite brother it is, then,” he said as he sat down beside her, watching as she set aside the pasta dish he’d brought to start with the tiramisu.

“So how did you get them to let you out of the ballet?” she asked as she swallowed down her first bite, her spoon already portioning out the next. Emma imagined that Mia had been more than a little annoyed that he was skipping out on the remainder of the evening she’d planned.

“Well, about that…" Elliot started as he settled his feet up on the coffee table. "Mia says I owe her three hours—both of us do, actually—so she’s already scheduled manicures and pedicures and facials and whatever else she deems necessary.”

“Thank god,” Emma snorted, nodding towards her brother's extended legs. “A pedicure will do you some good. Your feet are disgusting.”

Elliot let Emma have that dig without comment…let her enjoy a moment of self-satisfaction as she took another bite of the quickly disappearing dessert.

“And how did you appease our brother?” she continued. “I’m sure he wasn’t thrilled you were leaving him alone at the ballet with Mia.”

“Well…Christian’s appeasement—” Elliot reached out for the tiramisu, stealing a bite before it was gone— “is actually your purview.”

Elliot smirked as Emma tried to snatch back the tiramisu. “...so good luck with that.”

Emma huffed. “I don’t see how he's my purview. I didn’t ask for a twisted ankle or to be sequestered on this couch...and I certainly didn’t ask for you to come home early...I’m seriously rethinking bestowing the title of favorite brother on you, you know?”

Elliot shrugged, taking another bite of his sister's dessert. “I’m sure Christian would love that, though I really doubt he’ll let you off that easily…I know I wouldn’t.”

Emma reached out for the tiramisu again, successfully pulling it and the spoon into her grasp before Elliot could finish it off. “You know, you really are a monster?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Call me what you will as long as you share the last few—”

“Sharing? With you?” Emma mused, cutting Elliot off as she scraped around the sides of the container to gather every last bit of dessert onto her spoon.

“I’m afraid that’s not within my purview."

Emma popped the last bite into her mouth, savoring every bit of it before she swallowed it down.

"Delicious," she hummed.

"Monster," Elliot said, the word barely above a whisper as he shook his head.

Emma merely grinned, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "I did learn from the very best."

Fifty Shades (Emmeline Grey) Masterlist

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