Bang, bang, bang!

Emma Woodhouse was so pissed that she forgot to be nervous.

"What the hell?" She could hear him ask through the door as he undid the latch.

The door opened up to a sleepy, scruffy, Alex Knightley, dazed and dreary eyed. She had woken him up.

Good.

When he saw it was her, he tried to close the door.

Snarky Knightley wasn't very gentlemen like this morning. That stung. Emma knew that his lack of politeness wasn't because he had just woke up or because it was only 6:30 in the morning. If Alex wasn't a gentlemen to Emma, it was because he didn't think she deserved it.

She probably didn't.

She definitely didn't.

She stopped the door from slamming shut with her foot.

Ouch. Now she was hurting inside and out. Perfect.

"Go away, Emma."

"Yeah, sure. I drove fifteen minutes out of my way, missed my meeting with a future client and skipped my morning coffee to be here, but I'll just go.

Ha."

He may be Snarky Knightley, but she was Sarcasm Woodhouse.

"I told you, I needed space."

She scoffed. She had decided before she came here that the only way she was going to convince him to come back would be to convince him that he was an idiot for ever leaving in the first place.

"No, you told me that you were leaving indefinitely."

"Same thing. Now please, Emma. Leave me alone."

"No. I won't leave you alone. I don't care if you're pissed at me. I don't care if you hate me. You have to come back to Emma Approved. We need you. I don't know if you're forgetting, but it's your business too. Partners, remember?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "Oh I haven't forgotten, but I think you have."

"What?" She blanched.

"We were supposed to be a team, Emma, but you made all the decisions."

"That's my job!"

"You used to come to me with everything. Now you only come to me when you absolutely have to!"

"We've been in almost debilitating debt! I thought you had enough to deal with without me bugging you with stuff that I can handle."

"If you were worried about my stress levels, you would've stopped spending so much instead of parading around without a care in the world and leaving me to pick up after you!"

Emma tried to ignore that fact that he kept talking in past tense.

That's because I trusted you! I don't understand all the monetary stuff, you know that better than anyone else. I trusted you enough to handle the most important thing in my life and you let me down!"

His face, which was angry and scrunched before, went stone cold.

"No, Emma. You let me down. "

"I know, and I'm trying to apologize, but-"

He interrupted her with a curt, cruel laugh. "In what world is this an apology?"

"I was trying," she said through gritted teeth.

"No, Emma. You were trying to convince me that I was in the wrong. Guess what, Emma. You screwed up this time, and now you have to face the consequences. I'm not gonna comfort you and tell you it'll all be okay again. Go find some other lap dog."

Emma's anger was gone, replaced by a deep ache that seemed to stretch down into her soul. "Do you really think of me that way? Do you really think I think of you that way?"

He sighed, leaning his head against the door.

"I don't know, Emma. Maybe I do."

"No you don't. You know I don't see you like that. You know I can't function with out you, and I hope you know that nothing in the world hurts worse than knowing that you hate me. I want to make it right, but I don't know how, so if you could just tell me what i can do so you can stop hating me and forgive me, I know that's cheating, but I don't care. I just want my best friend back."

He closed his eyes. "I don't hate you."

"Yes, you do. I can tell, so don't try to make me feel better by lying to me."

He didn't bother to point out that, if he did in fact hate her, he probably wouldn't bother lying about it. If he hated her, he would want to make her feel better. He'd want her to have to deal with her guilt.

"No, I don't hate you, Emma. I don't think I could even if I wanted to."

She didn't say anything, just looked at him with stunned, dear in headlights eyes.

"Yeah, I was mad. Hell, I was furious, but I got over it."

"Then why won't you come back?"

"Because every time I see you, I want to kiss you."

There. He had said it. He didn't feel any different having said it.

"Then why don't you?"

Her voice was shakier than he had ever heard it, deep and hollow sounding. It didn't fit her, but it sure was sexy.

He laughed a little. Her nervousness made him nervous, and now he was finally realising what he'd just said.

"I don't know. Somehow I always end up yelling at you instead."

She was tearing up. She really hated it when he yelled at her. It was like when her dad used to yell at her when she was little and misbehaved. It made her feel like the lowest life form on earth, like gum on the bottom of your shoe. Disgusting and scraped against the pavement.

"Maybe next time, you should just hurry up and kiss me before the yelling has a chance to start." She wiped her eye with the corner of her sleeve. "Because it really sucks when we fight. You've been my best friend my whole life, and I can't deal with you hating me."

He rolled his eyes, and his whole head seemed to roll with them.

"For the fifty millionth time, I don't hate you."

She reached out and grabbed his hand. "Good, because I don't hate you either. In fact, I think the way if feel about you is about as far from Hate as you can get. God, help me. I've fallen for my best friend."

He pulled at her other hand, bringing her towards him until she was leaning against him and he was leaning against the door.

"If I kiss you now, do you promise to never call me your best friend again?"

She smiled. Her nose brushed against his. An Eskimo kiss, just like her mother used to give her.

"Gladly."