Work Text:
"Earth to Alex!"
"Hmm?" Alex murmured, not managing to tear his eyes away from his baby niece, who was cradled on his lap in a tiny pink sleeper and staring up at him with giant dark eyes. She was amazing. And looking at her, it was all too easy to imagine his own potential children, especially if -
But his brother John was laughing. "I guess we were asking for it, naming her Emma."
"Asking for what?"
"She's got you completely wrapped around her little finger already. Apparently her aunt is teaching her well."
Alex tried not to flinch at the mention of his business partner and best friend. Former partner? Former friend? He could barely make his brain formulate those words. But still - "Emma doesn't have me - "
"Oh, save it," John scoffed. "She always has."
Alex couldn't even remember when John had started complaining about him always siding with Emma; it was a staple of their childhood bickering, bound to make an appearance eventually whenever John's feelings were hurt about anything. He'd yelled it once in the middle of a fight about something completely unrelated - video games, probably. "And you're always on Emma's side!"
"Yeah," Alex had answered, confused. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"I'm your brother. You could be on my side."
That had never really occurred to Alex.
Mrs. Knightley and Mrs. Woodhouse had been best friends, so the four kids had been together all the time. And everyone liked to point out that in the earliest picture of the quartet, serious five-year-old Alex was holding baby Emma like she was glass, one little hand wrapped around her tiny fist, oblivious to the toddlers refusing to sit still at the other end of the couch.
Alex had a copy of the photo in a frame with a picture of the four of them seventeen years later, at John and Izzy's wedding. That was what his old girlfriend Emily had thrown against the wall approximately thirty seconds before she'd left his apartment - and life - forever.
"Did she even ask?" Emily had demanded.
"Did who ask what?" Alex had never had any patience for these games.
"Emma. Did she even ask or did she just command you to give up your dreams so you could help her with this vanity project?"
"I'm not giving up my dreams. And it's not a vanity project." Alex had tried to remain calm and matter-of-fact, because he couldn't figure out what was going on or where this sudden anger had come from. What did Emily care where he worked, anyway?
"Whatever. Matchmaking and planning parties? Since when do you care about that? You were at the top of our class. You could do anything, Alex."
"I want to do this," he'd insisted.
"I don't believe you." She'd shaken her head angrily, and it had almost looked like there were tears in her eyes. "You got offers from at least three Fortune 500s. That I know of."
"And I decided I wanted to be my own boss." He'd known this wasn't exactly the type of business most people were expecting him to go into, but so what? Building something from the ground up - with his best friend - sounded way more interesting and challenging than an entry level position at a huge corporation.
"Your own boss? You mean you decided it would be easier if you didn't have to worry about anyone other than Emma bossing you around."
"Emily. Be reasonable."
"Be reasonable?" He'd briefly wondered if her voice had always been this shrill. "My boyfriend - my boyfriend - is at the eternal beck and call of some spoiled little girl, to the point of throwing away his career, and I'm the one who needs to be reasonable?"
"I'm not at her beck and call." Alex had known it was futile even as the words were leaving his mouth.
"Have you ever not gone when she called?" Emily had demanded. "I can't remember a time."
"Have I ever not come when you called?"
"That's not the point. What if we both called? Who would you choose, Alex?"
He'd closed his eyes, tried to breathe. "Don't do this," he'd begged. Because apparently Emily thought it was a competition, and didn't realize she'd never had a chance. He'd cared about Emily, he really had, but she wasn't Emma. He was always on Emma's side. He'd never known any other way to be.
"I guess that's all the answer I need."
"She's like family. She is family." Back in high school and college, he'd told anyone who questioned his friendship with the Woodhouse girls that Emma was basically his kid sister, but he'd stopped saying that around the time John and Izzy got married - when it was technically closer to being true - because he'd had to admit that she was in no way a kid anymore. But family? If there was a definition of "family" that didn't include Emma, Alex certainly wanted no part of it.
Emily had been crying by then. "I can't do this anymore. I need to know that I'm your priority, Alex."
"I'm sorry." He had been. It wouldn't change anything, but he'd been sorry.
And that was when she'd picked the frame up from his bookcase and threw it. He supposed he should be grateful she hadn't thrown it at him.
"Em . . ." He hadn't even known how to finish the sentence.
"Yeah, about that."
"What?"
"Don't date people with practically the same name as the girl you're pining after. It's creepy." Emily had shrugged into her jacket, grabbed her purse and keys. "And you're really fucking lucky I have no way to know how many times you started to call me her name and caught yourself."
"I . . ." No, he wouldn't lie, not now. "I really tried to make this work."
Emily had just looked at him for a moment. "That's the sad thing. I think you really did. Well, I hope making budgets for parties and billing debutantes for their breakdowns is everything you hope and dream, Alex. Tell Emma I concede. You're all hers."
Alex had not, in fact, told Emma that; he wasn't completely stupid. He'd just told her they'd broken up because they wanted different things, and let Emma fuss over him for a few days. But he'd never really missed Emily that much, and since then he'd been so busy with Emma Approved and his own side projects that he'd barely had time to date at all. And that was fine. It was his choice. And he was mostly happy - they were mostly happy - until everything had started to change. Until Annie's wedding, and Harriet, and Jane, and Frank Churchill.
Baby Emma started to fuss in Alex's arms, startling him out of his memories, and Izzy soon appeared in the doorway. "Sounds like someone's hungry."
Alex got up and gave the baby to her mother as Izzy surveyed the quiet room. "Well, looks like you guys are having a great time in here."
"Alex was just trying to convince me that he makes his own decisions and is in no way wrapped around your sister's little finger," John explained.
"I do make my own decisions. I'm here," Alex pointed out. "I walked out."
"Like that's going to last." Apparently he wasn't even kidding his often-oblivious brother.
"It could." Not that he wanted it to, but he had to believe that he could live without Emma if he had to. Right?
"You had a fight. It happens," John said.
"It'll be fine." Izzy sat down and started to feed the baby. "You and Emma could never stay mad at each other."
"I don't know. If she doesn't at least understand what she did to Maddie . . ."
"Come on, Alex. There's another side to this."
"What?" He was lost.
"I'm not saying what Emma did wasn't wrong. It absolutely was. But . . ." Izzy glanced down at the now-sleepy baby on her lap, then back up at him. "You have to admit you wouldn't be reacting quite this strongly if it didn't involve another guy."
"Another - what? No. That's not it at all," Alex insisted. "I just don't like Frank Churchill. He's a bad influence."
"Uh-huh . . ."
"I have no problem with Emma dating in general." Alex was pretty sure his brother snorted at that, but he pressed on. "But if she falls in love with this guy and it changes the way she conducts business - our business - then that affects me. And it's perfectly reasonable that I take a little time to consider my options and whether I should continue as her partner."
"Oh, Alex," Izzy sighed.
"Don't 'oh Alex' me. If you have something to say, just say it." Alex was trying not to let his anger at one Woodhouse sister spill over onto the other, but it wasn't necessarily easy.
"Okay. Emma is not in love with Frank Churchill."
"She's not?" Alex heard the hope in his voice and hated himself a little.
"Absolutely not."
"But how do you know? Did she . . ."
Izzy just shook her head and smiled. "I'm her sister. Also, I have eyes."
"Have you heard from her? While I've been here?" Alex thought he'd done pretty well, holding out against asking for this long, but he couldn't take it anymore.
Izzy hesitated. "I have."
"How . . . is she?" It had been years since he'd gone this long without talking to her, without knowing her daily moods and rhythms as well as his own. Was independence supposed to feel like missing a limb?
But Izzy was shaking her head. "No. No no no. I am not getting involved. You are going to work this out like adults."
Alex let himself smile, a little. "We are?"
"I'm serious, Alex," Izzy said. "You're welcome here as long as you want, you know that, but if you want this business - or anything else - to work, you need to talk to Emma yourself."
Alex nodded slowly. "I know." He did. He'd go back, and they'd talk, but he'd made the basic decision a long time ago, and pretending otherwise was at best a futile thought experiment. He was on Emma's side. He didn't know any other way to be.