A/N: I have no idea where this came from but it happened and I don't entirely hate it. May be full of spelling errors and other errors because I have no idea what it's like to run a business. But hopefully it is enjoyable none the less. And I think I'm required to say that I own nothing, except for Robert Hunters and I'm not exactly bragging about that.
And again, this is the Emma Approved Universe. This is in no way following the novel Emma, I apologize.
Sometimes, people surprise you.
Alex Knightley had been organizing the different teas in the office kitchen for the last half hour. This kind of thing seemed to be happening to him more frequently of late. He would walk into a place without plan or intent and suddenly find something that needed fixing; like the disorganized tea packets he had found strewn around the kitchen counter. He's beginning to wonder if this attention to detail is a symptom of spending too much time with Emma.
As he placed the last organic peppermint tea packet in its jar, and realized that he was in fact out of excuses, he remembered what was waiting for him back at his desk. The expenditures from Emma's last "client" had been steeper than usual and it was up to him to balance out the accounts to make sure that they hadn't actually lost more than they had gained. It seemed a silly thing to even think about given that Emma's last client, a bank office manager looking for a "confidence boost", had repaid Emma both in lavish gifts and in sizable cheques.
Alex distinctly remembers rolling his eyes at most of these "gifts", but Emma, never one to cite anything but herself, had been happy to point out that there was nothing in their company policy to prevent "Robert" (the most annoying and self-centred of all bank office managers, Alex was certain of it) from purchasing her gifts as a method of payment. Thankfully, these "gifts" (who buys a life-coach a $300 watch with constellations instilled in rhinestones?) didn't stop Robert from paying what he owed them.
If he was being honest with himself, Alex would probably also admit that it was nice that the gifts didn't propel Emma to accept Robert's (decidedly inappropriate) offer of replacing their final "meeting" with an official date. Alex could say a lot of things about Emma, but even he knew she could never be bought.
The more he thought about it, the more Alex realized that, yes he needed to return to his work in order to finish tying up any lose ends, but he also needed to have a proper look at that policy. Particularly on how to change the "no gifts" section; he wasn't really sure how he would react if one of their next clients decided to purchase Emma a sports car, or something of that nature.
Groaning at the thought, Alex made the short trek from the kitchen to his office to find that it wasn't as empty as he had left it. Emma was sitting (quite obnoxiously) in his office chair reading something on his laptop with nothing short of absolute fascination.
Knowing that nothing Emma could find fascinating could be good for him, he sarcastically knocked on his own door to divert her attention from his laptop screen.
Surprisingly, she jumped a little and when her eyes caught his, she may have even blushed. Despite his earlier upset, he found a smile trying to sneak his way on his lips as he greeted her with, "Whatchu doing?"
Seeming to compose herself into her usual Emma-Woodhouse-state, Alex's business partner straightened in his chair and return her attention to the screen as he approached her:
"Looking over some of the figures from our last client."
"You do realize that that constitutes as the, what's that charming phrase of yours? Ah yes, the boring stuff," by now Alex was standing behind her, observing his laptop screen from behind her shoulder. She did in fact have many of his spreadsheets open as well as some tabs open with their banking information. He felt himself relax a bit against the back of his chair.
"Usually, yes. This time…still boring-ish," she replied, dropping the ish so that Knightley barely caught it. She then removed her hands from the keyboard and picked up Robert Hunters' file.
"You even figured out how my filing system works, look at you," he joked as he leaned back against one of his bookshelves, taking in the sight of Emma looking determined at something other than a new project.
"Haha," she said sarcastically without looking up at him, "I particularly liked all of your extra notes in the margins here." At that, she turned to face him with a list in hand of Robert's gifts, in which Alex had been much more liberal about his feelings than he ever was to Emma's face.
Now, naturally, it was Alex's turn to blush as he remembered what he had pressed harshly into that paper with a red ballpoint pen whenever Robert came over to visit the office. "He was getting a bit excessive, I mean how many times are you going to use that foot rub machine?"
Emma had already turned back around and held up her hand as if to shut him up, "I've already had plenty of your commentary, thank you. Though this one was my personal favourite," she cleared her throat before dropping into a terrible impression of Alex, "'what exactly will he buy her next? A puppy? Does he expect her to keep the puppy around the office? Will he brainwash the puppy in order to convince her to go out with him? Does he think that's how puppies work?!' and then the little gem you added underneath, I'm guessing a little while later 'God please let no one ever buy Emma a puppy,' which was frankly pretty rude because maybe I would like a puppy Alex. Maybe it really would have convinced me to date a bank office manager named Robert Hunters!" At which point, Emma's serious face faltered and she burst into a spout of laughter.
Alex found himself laughing through his still burning cheeks, mostly because Emma was laughing and that was often infectious. Through his laughter, though, he ran his hands down his face at the memory of writing those down whenever he got especially angry at some comment or action of Robert's. He hadn't realized how childish the man had made him until someone read that commentary back to him. And, naturally, that person had to be Emma.
The women in question eventually stopped laughing, though a few chuckles still rocked her shoulders as far as Alex could tell, but she continued talking. "I've got to say Mr. Knightley, if I knew you were half this much fun when you did your boring stuff, I might actually have spent more time in this office," she gestured quickly around herself while still chuckling slightly.
"Yeah, well, the door's always open, Emma. Though, admittedly, the comedy is not always at its peak," he spoke plainly but when she turned around to look at him, he found himself smiling to mirror hers.
"So what are you doing here, besides ridiculing me?"
"I wasn't ridiculing you!" he raised an eyebrow, "okay a bit, you're an easy target, but I completely agree with you about Robert. There are some people who will just never be Emma Approved no matter how hard I work," she paused while looking out into the distance for a minute. Alex rolled his eyes.
"Emma. You. In my office. Why?"
"Rushing me is not Emma Approved either, Alex," she muttered, as she turned herself back to face the laptop. "I was just checking to see that everything was okay with the accounts after that client."
Alex found himself raising an eyebrow as he placed his hands on his desk and looked at Emma, "You were…checking up on me?"
Emma's eyes met his, but there was nothing other than confusion there, "The business, Alex. I was checking up on the business."
"Oh."
"Am I not allowed to care what happens with my business?"
"Our business."
"Exaclty!" she responded, clapping her hands as if she'd just achieved exactly what she set out to do. "If it's our business, and you care about the boring stuff, I occasionally have to care about it too. It's like whenever you tell me to cut Harriet some slack or help those client over the phone. If you get your hands in on my half, I get my hands in on yours."
She says all of this as though it is all matter of fact, but Alex knows how to recognize the use of Emma logic when he sees it so he just shakes his head and lets her continue.
"So, how exactly is that going for you?"
"Hmm, well I'm not really seeing much that would make or break the company," Emma logic for 'I have no idea what any of this means', "And the lights are still on so clearly we aren't broke" Emma logic for 'I don't want to compliment you on your abilities but I'm glad I don't have to ask my father for help again' "But everything looks good, honestly. You have a good handle on this, Alex," Emma logic for '…?'
"Wait, what did you just say?"
Emma turned to look at him again with that same confusion in her eyes, "I said, you've got a good handle on this. Why?"
Alex feels stunned, like she has physically turned off his ability to function. She had only ever done that once before, and that was for an entirely different reason.
Then it had been a gut reaction to seeing her look like…well not Emma. Not the Emma he knew since childhood and who used to step on the backs of his sneakers because she hated trailing behind him. Not the Emma who had once force-fed him red jello because she refused to accept that he liked blue jello when she liked red. Not the Emma who refused to talk to him for a whole week because he had held her artwork with peanut butter on his fingers. No, this was an Emma he had never seen before but that his friends used to talk about in high school, and then again through college. The Emma that was beautiful even in their awful school gym clothes, the Emma that was confident enough to talk to every senior who walked by even as a freshman, the Emma who convinced people to engage in charity work just with her smile. It had taken him years to see it but here, when she comes knocking on his university apartment door at four am in her pajamas with a look on her face like she just had the single greatest idea to ever happen to anyone ever, Alex realizes how he feels about. How he's always felt about her.
Back then, Emma had been confident as ever, but she had also wanted to share something with him. Now, she had surpassed sharing and now wanted to give him all the cards, just by complimenting him. He was sure it was a fluke so when his breathing returned to normal he said,
"Not used to you noticing my half of the work, that's all, didn't know you thought it was worth your time," and as he says it, he wonders if she'll take it the wrong way.
On her part, she looks a bit shocked herself as she says, "Of course I do. I'm not one to say it, but I know what you do is important and I'm thankful for it. And you."
He stares at her because he has no idea what to do. He knows this is the Emma everyone else sees, the giving girl who just wants to make people's lives better. But he rarely gets to see that part genuinely, especially when it's directed at him. His brain tries to make sense of it, but instead of reviewing the compliment, breaking it down, determining whether it's really worth getting worked up over; all he sees is Emma. Smiling Emma, laughing Emma, stubborn Emma, snarky Emma, helpful Emma, kind Emma, angry Emma, blinded-by-her-own-backwards-sense-of-duty Emma. He sees it all on replay as he looks into her eyes.
She laughs slightly under his gaze, "What?"
But he doesn't answer. He doesn't tell her that he's glad she told him about her business idea while wearing designer pajamas on his doorstep one warm fall morning. He doesn't tell her that he wanted to punch Robert Hunters in the face for buying her a watch that wasn't half as lovely as her. He doesn't tell her that he set up those phone consultations because he knows what she does is important and wants her to do it as often as possible because he loves that look of passion in her eyes.
He doesn't tell her any of this.
Because he'd rather kiss her.
And once he's done it, he realizes that saying all of those things, and all of those other truths he's kept so well hidden from her, don't feel half as good as the feeling of her kissing him back.