I am honestly terrified to post this, it's taken three days to get this written, looked over, edited and posted. I've done it all myself and there's no Beta so all mistakes are my own. Please be nice although constructive criticism is appreciated.
A/N: This is an idea that's been bugging me for months and I've finally decided to go with it so I thought "fuck it" let's do it. Hence, here we go. Hopefully it will do okay. Hook me up with a review ;)
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine because if it was this shit would be on HBO. Fifty Shades story line belongs to EL James while OUAT belongs to Eddy and Adam. The inspiration has drawn me to write this lovely little nugget of...something. (I do take credit for improving the story of FS significantly though) ;D
She scowls in frustration at the mirror. Damn it, her hair just won't behave, Damn you Regina she thinks damn you for being sick and subjecting me to this ordeal. She should be studying for her final exams, which are in a week, yet here she is trying to brush her hair into submission. I really shouldn't sleep with it wet she reminds herself, cursing Regina several more times, she attempts, once more, to bring her wild mane under control with her brush. She huffs in defeat and pulls her blonde hair back into a loose braid instead, abandoning her hope of wearing it loose. She gazes into the mirror, studying her reflection for one final time. Her make-up is flawless if minimal, her green eyes bright behind the thick black framed glasses that she's decided to wear. Maybe I should go with the contacts she thinks but quickly disregards the idea; with her blonde hair pulled back in a braid the glasses help her look semi presentable. Although... Quickly she changes her glasses for contacts and applies a small amount of mascara. That's better she thinks to herself with a small smile, checking her reflection one last time.
Why did you have to get sick today of all days? Emma thinks as she leaves the bathroom, there's a pang of sympathy for her roommate who's currently huddled up on the couch, sick with the flu.
Naturally it means that she cannot attend the interview that she'd arranged to do, with some mega-industrial-A-list tycoon that Emma has never even heard of, for the student newspaper. So Emma, being the epic best friend and roommate that she is has volunteered. Even though she has final exams to cram for, an essay to finish plus work this afternoon, she has agreed to drive from the small town of Storybrooke, Maine to downtown Boston in order to meet the enigmatic CEO of Jones Enterprises. Emma silently curses Regina's extra-curricular activities, she should be studying.
"Emma I am sorry but it took me nine months to get this interview and it would take another six to reschedule, by then we'll both have graduated so I can't blow this off, not as the Editor. Please?" Despite knowing she'd do it, the sound of Regina's rasping voice crumbles any resistance that lingered. A small part of Emma wants to snap at her friend anyway telling her that technically she is blowing off the interview but Emma bites her tongue, instead picking on the CEO she's never met.
"It's just that it bugs me he seems to think his time is extraordinarily precious, clearly much more precious than mine or yours," Emma sulks, "I should be studying" she mutters under her breath and Regina smiles at her from her spot on the couch. Even ill she looks gorgeous, despite her red runny nose. Her dark brown hair is perfectly in place, brown eyes bright although red-rimmed. Emma ignores the pang of envy and instead sighs.
"I'm going but you owe me Regina" She growls in fake annoyance "you should get back to bed, did you want some Nyquil or Tylenol?"
"Nyquil, Please" Regina reaches across to the table picking up a small file with a black device on top and hands it to Emma "Here are the questions and my mini-disc recorder. Just press record here" she points to the small button and Emma rolls her eyes "make notes, I'll transcribe it all when you get back"
"I know how to use the recorder Regina" Emma laughs in an attempt to suppress her rising panic "I know nothing about him though" she's failing miserably at trying to control her panic, why the hell did she agree to do this?
"The questions will see you through Ems. Go. It's a long drive and I don't want you to be late" Emma rolls her eyes but gives her best friend a weak smile.
"Okay, Okay. I'm going. You get back to bed, I made you some soup that you can heat up later" Emma stares at her friend, shaking her head "Only for you, Regina, would I do this."
"I know and I'm going to bed now." Regina slowly gets up from the couch "Good luck and thank you Emma, as usual you're my saviour"
Picking up her satchel, Emma laughs and heads out the door to her car. I can't believe I've let Regina talk me into this she thinks wryly but then again Regina can talk anyone into anything. She'll make an exceptional journalist; articulate, strong, persuasive, argumentative and beautiful. Emma climes into the Sporty Mercedes CLK that Regina has lent her, she swears her little yellow bug could make it but Regina had insisted and Emma relented quickly when Regina mentioned she'd be driving the Merc.
The roads are clear as she sets off from Storybrooke, although she'd have preferred her little bug the Merc is a fun drive and the miles slip away as she floors the gas. It's early and she doesn't have to be in Boston until two this afternoon.
Emma arrives at her destination, the headquarters of Mr. Jones' Enterprise. It's a huge twenty-story office building made of curved glass and steal, it makes her think of August and how much her adoptive brother would love it, an architect's utilitarian fantasy. Jones House is written discreetly in steel near the entrance doors.
Climbing out of the car Emma glances at her watch, it's a quarter to two. She breathes a sigh of relief, grateful that she's not late as she walks into the enormous and slightly intimidating building. She passes through the doors to find herself in a white sandstone lobby.
Behind a solid sandstone desk, a very attractive, well groomed, young woman smiles pleasantly at Emma. Her charcoal suit jacket and impossibly white shirt make her look immaculate. Her dark hair pulled back into a neat bun. Emma shifts, suddenly uncomfortable in her jeans. Maybe she should have borrowed the entire suit from Regina rather than the simple grey silk shirt.
"I'm here to see Mr. Jones. Emma Swan for Regina Mills" Her voice is surprisingly calm and collected in comparison to her erratic pulse.
"Just a moment Miss Swan, excuse me" Emma arches an eyebrow slightly, surprised by the formality. What else would you expect you moron, it's a multibillion dollar company she scolds herself.
Emma crosses her arms, again wishing she'd taken Regina's offer for a formal business suit. She tries to pretend the woman in front of her isn't intimidating her, her knee high boots really were a bad idea, she probably should have chosen stilettos but Emma assumed this would be acceptable for interview wear. It wasn't as if she was actually applying for a job here, no, she was conducting an interview. The only inappropriate thing she could really wear was her birthday suit...Wait-what? Don't go into an interview thinking about being naked. Oh God it's like one of those bad dreams where you're naked at graduation -
"Miss Mills is expected" The woman says snapping Emma from her internal freak out "Please sign here Miss Swan. You'll want the last elevator on the right, twentieth floor" She smiles kindly, amusement sparkling in her eyes as Emma signs in.
She hands over a security pass that has VISITOR stamped on the front. Emma can't help but smirk and raise an eyebrow, surely it's obvious that she's just visiting but she clips in onto the collar of her shirt without comment. Thanking her, Emma heads over to the elevators, passing two security men who are wearing black slacks, polished black shoes and crisp black shirts. Damn it even the security guys are better dressed than I am! Inwardly sighing, Emma curses herself once again for not letting Regina help her dress. She fidgets as she waits for the elevator, trying her best not to freak out.
Finally the doors open and Emma thumbs the button for the twentieth floor, as soon as the doors close Emma's checking herself in the reflection of the doors as discreetly as she can. There's no doubt in her mind there are security cameras and she doesn't want to give whomever is watching a laugh so she tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear and tries not to fidget too much, her eyes staring at her warped reflection.
In no time at all the doors are sliding open and Emma finds herself in another large lobby, almost identical to the one on the first floor. She struggles not to snort as she approaches an identical desk with another gorgeous young woman, this one dressed in an impeccable silver suit. Her dark hair also in a neat bun. Emma begins to regret even her hairstyle choice, but she's glad she decided to ditch the glasses at the last minute. God she would have looked ridiculous wearing them.
"Miss Swan, please take a seat" the woman gestures to a seated area made up of white leather chairs and Emma gives her a terse smile before heading over to the area.
Behind the leather chairs is a spacious glass walled meeting room with an equally spacious dark wooden table, mahogany maybe? There are at least twenty matching chairs around it. Beyond that Emma can see a floor-to-ceiling window that stretches the length of the room would August kill me if I called it a glass wall? It has a view of the Boston skyline that looks out through the city and towards the bay. It's a stunning sight and Emma finds herself momentarily paralysed by the view. Wow. You don't get a view like that in Storybrooke.
Emma shakes herself and sits down, fishing the questions from her satchel so she can look over them. She inwardly curses Regina for not providing a brief biography and herself for not asking for one. She knows nothing about this Killian Jones, he could be thirty or he could be sixty. The uncertainty is unnerving, being clueless makes her nervous. Emma's never been comfortable going into situations unprepared, and although she prefers the anonymity of a group where she can sit inconspicuously and distract herself by conversing with those people she knows, if she was honest she'd much prefer to be at home right now in her own company, reading a classic British novel, curled up in a chair with a cup of Hot Cocoa but damn it she promised Regina she'd do this and Emma Swan was a woman of her word.
Emma rolls her eyes, get a grip Swan you haven't even looked at the questions yet. Judging by the building, which is way too clinical and modern for Emma's own tastes, she guesses that Jones in is his forties; fit, tanned and dark-haired to match the rest of his personnel. Emma smiles to herself, she's good at getting a read on people and she can definitely handle a forty year old man.
Another elegant, flawless woman comes out of a large door to Emma's right, seriously! She thinks what is with all these runway models as staff? Oh dear god please don't let him be a creep.
The woman approaches Emma, who gets to her feet so she isn't be looked down upon. She hates when people do that, so she stands to greet the red headed woman approaching her.
"Miss Swan?"
"Yes?" she squeaks Oh god my voice, Emma clears her throat with an embarrassed smile "Sorry" There that sounds more confident. The woman smiles softly at her
"Mr. Jones will see you in a moment, could I take your jacket?" She gestures to the red leather jacket Emma has slung over her bag.
"Oh please" She says with a sheepish smile, handing over the jacket.
"Have you been offered any refreshment?"
"Ahh- no?" It's not supposed to be a question but Emma worries about getting the receptionist in trouble.
The woman in front of Emma frowns and eyes the young woman at the desk.
"Would you like something, tea, coffee, water?" She asks, turning back to Emma
"Water please"
"Aurora, please fetch Miss Swan a glass of water" Her voice is stern, causing Aurora to launch to her feet immediately and scurry to a door on the other side of the foyer.
"My apologies Miss Swan, Aurora is our new intern. Please take a seat. Mr. Jones will be another five minutes" Emma bites her tongue, trying her best not to mouth off before she's even met the guy. Aurora arrives with a glass of iced water and a nervous smile.
"Here you go, Miss Swan"
"Thank you" Emma offers her an attentive smile in return
Both women return to the large desk, their heels clicking and echoing on the pristine floors. They both sit down in unison and continue their work. The eerie coordination sends a shiver down Emma's spine as she takes a sip of water. Clearly this Mr. Jones insists on all his employees being attractive, is it even legal for him to do that? Emma wonders just as the office door opens and a tall elegantly dressed, attractive African-American man exits. His hair is cropped short and his suit is a light grey, Emma scolds herself for having chosen the wrong clothes. Oh well nothing you can do about it now Swan she thinks to herself. The man is laughing as he leaves the office, turning around.
"Golf, this week, Jones" He says through the door.
"Of course Lance" She hears the muffled response, the man turns and sees her. He smiles in greeting, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners.
Aurora jumps up and calls the elevator. Emma raises an eyebrow, wondering if she's as nervous as Emma or just simply excels at jumping up out of her seat.
"Afternoon Ladies" he says as he steps into the elevator.
"Mr Jones will see you now, Miss Swan" Says the redhead from her place behind the desk as Aurora moves to take her seat again. Emma half expects her to launch to her feet again and is mildly disappointed when Aurora goes back to her work instead.
Leaving her untouched water behind Emma stands and gathers up her satchel, making her way to the partially open door. She hesitates, unsure as to whether or not she should knock.
"You don't need to knock" the woman says kindly "just go on in"
Emma pushes open the door, her foot catching on the frame and she stumbles, falling head first into the office. Damn it she thinks, sitting on her knees for a moment, head bowed. She tries to hide her flaming cheeks as she steels herself to rise. Talk about making a memorable first impression. Suddenly there's a pair of gentle hands helping her to her feet and Emma can feel the crackle of electricity which makes her shiver. She clutches her bag to her side as if it can protect her.
Emma looks at the man who's helped her to her feet, Jesus he's young she thinks, a new flush creeping up her cheeks.
"Miss Mills, are you alright?" Dear lord he has an accent he extends a long fingered hand once she's on her feet, concern lacing his features "I'm Killian Jones, would you like to take a seat?"
Emma's stuck dumb by the sight of him. He's young, a lot younger than she predicted and attractive, very attractive. He's tall, dressed in a dark blue suit, with a white shirt and black tie. His hair is unruly and black, a five o'clock shadow dusting his strong jaw and his eyes...his eyes are a stormy blue, staring at her intensely. Damn it Swan pull it together
"Um. Actually - " her voice is husky, what the hell? never has Emma been shaken to the core like this by a man before. She shakes her head, hoping to clear the fog that clouds it. She takes his hand in her own, and they shake. Almost immediately Emma drops his hand, trying to ignore the shiver that runs up her arm and down her spine, must be static she lies to herself. She clears her throat.
"Miss Mills is indisposed, so she sent me. Hopefully you don't mind, Mr. Jones" She's surprised by the cool formality of her voice considering her stomach is fluttering and her heart is pounding.
"And who would that make you, lass?" Amusement sparkles in his eyes, it's difficult to tell because his expression is impassive but Emma swears he looks mildly interested.
"Swan. Emma Swan. I'm studying English Literature with Regina...Um...I mean Miss Mills down at Storybrooke Collage"
"I see" he says simply, there might be a ghost of a smile in his expression, but Emma can't be sure. "Would you like to sit?" he guides her towards a white leather L-shaped couch, his hand hovering over her lower back. She tries her best to ignore the pulse of electricity that seems to fill the air around them.
Emma glances around, his office is way too big for just one man, floor to ceiling windows run along the wall behind his desk, giving him a breathing taking view of Boston, one she's instantly jealous of. There's a huge modern dark-wood desk that six people could comfortably eat around, it matches the coffee table by the couch. Even from here Emma can tell the craftsmanship is phenomenal.
Besides from the desk and coffee table everything else in the room is white, except for a spot on the wall by the door where a mosaic of small paintings hang, there are thirty six of them if Emma's math is correct, all of them arranged in a square. She leaves Jones by the couch and wanders over to them.
They are exquisite, a series of mundane forgotten objects painted in such precise detail they could pass as actual photographs. Displayed together they look breathtaking.
"A local artist" Says Jones when she turns back to him, "Trouton" he scratches behind his ear and gives her a small smile.
"They're lovely" Emma murmurs "raising the ordinary to extraordinary" he cocks his head to one side, regarding her intently.
"I couldn't agree more, Miss Swan" He replies, his voice soft and as smooth as silk, for some reason Emma finds herself blushing. Honestly what the hell is wrong with you?
Emma moves back to the couch, sitting down and placing her bag by her feet. She takes a moment to collect herself. Besides the paintings the office is cold, clean and clinical. Emma can't help but wonder if it reflects the personality of the man in front of her who sinks gracefully into one of the white leather chairs opposite her. He really is handsome god it would be a shame if he was boring Emma shakes her head, disturbed by her thoughts, she retrieves Regina's questions from her satchel sitting them on the couch next to her and reaches for the mini-disc recorder. Emma attempts to set it up, dropping it twice on the coffee table in front of her, blushing a deeper shade of red every time the device slips from her fingers.
Jones says nothing, waiting patiently, one hand relaxed in his lap and the other tapping his long fingers against his lips, his lips curl slightly at the sides as if he's trying to suppress a smile.
"Sorry, I'm not use to this." Why am I apologising?
"Take all the time you need, Miss Swan" he says and for some reason it irks her they was he says her name Miss Swan it just doesn't sound right.
"Do you mind if I record your answers?"
"After you've taken so much trouble to set up the recorder lass - you ask me now?" Emma flushes, partly in anger and partly in embarrassment. She's ready to tell him where he can shove his attitude when he grins, he's teasing her.
"No, I don't mind, love" She blinks, shocked at the endearment, he looks shocked as well, reaching up to scratch behind his ear, a light flush colouring his cheeks. She takes pity on him, and hopes to distract him from her own blush as she scrambles for something to say.
"Did Regina - I mean Miss Mills explain what the interview was for?"
"It's to appear in the graduation issue of the student newspaper as I shall be conferring the degrees at this year's graduation ceremony." Emma feels herself blanch. Oh shit!
It's news to her and she's temporarily pre-occupied with the idea that someone not much older than her, he has to be...what twenty nine or something? is going to be presenting her with her degree. I'm going to be seeing him again the thought sets off a flutter in her stomach and Emma frowns, dragging her attention back to the task at hand. She should not be feeling this.
"Okay" she swallows around her suddenly dry throat "I have some questions here" She tucks a loose lock of hair behind her ear, and looks down at the questions Regina has given her.
"I assumed you would" he's laughing at her, she scowls at the realization, squaring her shoulders she attempts to look taller and more intimidating. Emma leans forward to press the record button on the device she now despises.
"You're very young to have amassed such an empire. To what do you owe your success?" Emma risks glancing up at him, he's smile is smug but there's a shimmer of disappointment in his eyes.
"Business is all about people, lass, and I'm very good with people" Emma holds back a snort "I know how they tick, what makes them flourish, what doesn't, what inspires them, and how to incentivize them. I employ an exceptional team and I reward the well." This time Emma does snort, yeah an exceptionally good looking team she thinks, He pauses and fixes her with a curious stare, an eyebrow raised "my belief is to achieve success in any scheme one has to make oneself master of that scheme, know it inside and out, know every detail. I work hard to do that. I make decisions based on logic and facts. I have a natural instinct that can spot and nurture a good solid idea and that requires good people."
"Maybe you're just lucky" the words slip out before she can stop them, he's just so arrogant. His eyes widen momentarily in surprise.
"I don't believe in luck nor do I subscribe to chance Miss Swan. The harder I work the more luck as you would call it, I seem to have. It really is all about having the right people on your team and directing their energies accordingly. I believe it was Harvey Firestone who said 'the growth and development of people is the highest calling of leadership'"
"You sound like a control freak" there's a bite to her words, a challenge, one he clearly hears and understands because his posture straightens and his blue eyes darken.
"Oh, I exercise control in all things, Miss Swan" Emma holds his gaze steadily, her heartbeat quickening and heat racing down her spine to curl in her stomach. Why is he having this effect on me? she thinks, breaking his gaze to glare at the list of questions in front of her, maybe it's his overwhelming good-looks or the way his eyes blaze when they meet her own, she glances up at him from beneath her lashes, or maybe it's to do with the way he's running his tongue along his lower lip, damn she wishes she hadn't seen that.
"Besides, immense power is acquired by assuring yourself and others that you were born to control things" he continues, his voice soft.
"Do you feel like you have immense power?" control freak she snarks silently, his eyes dance with amusement as if he can tell what she's thinking.
"I employ over forty thousand people. I think that gives me a certain sense of responsibility, or power if you will. If I were to decided I was no longer interested in the maritime industry and sell up, twenty thousand people would struggle to make their mortgage payments after a month or so" Emma's mouth drops open, staggered by his lack of humility. Could this guy's ego be any bigger?
"Don't you have a board or something to answer to?" her tone is one of pure disgust.
"I own my company." He raises an eyebrow as if he expected her to know this "I don't have to answer to a board"
Emma glares at him, mildly embarrassed that she hadn't done any research but for fucks sake he's so bloody arrogant and it just rubs her the wrong way.
"What about outside of work, do you have any interests?" she has to distract him before she makes a bigger fool of herself. God I hate you right now Regina.
"I have varied interests" the look that crosses his face is pure sin "very varied" Emma can feel the heat of his gaze but she refuses to look up from the questions, she definitely doesn't need to see the wicked gleam she knows is in his eyes.
"So of these varied interests which do you do to chill out?" He grins like the Cheshire cat at her words, like his privy to a secret she's unaware of.
"Chill out?" his teeth are perfectly straight and white. Emma stops breathing, is there anything about this man that isn't perfect? It should be illegal for someone to be that good looking.
"Well," he says, licking his lower lip again "to 'chill out' as you so delightfully put it, I enjoy sailing, I fly, I indulge in various physical pursuits" He shifts in his chair "I'm a wealthy man, Miss Swan, I have expensive and absorbing hobbies" Emma glances quickly at Regina's questions, desperate to distract her thoughts, she doesn't want to think about his various physical pursuits nope, definitely not going to think about that.
"You invest in manufacturing. Why, specifically?" Never has a man unsettled Emma so much and she feels both resentful and intrigued.
"I like to build things" he states simply "I like to know how things work: what makes things tick, how to construct and deconstruct. I have a love of ships...what can I say?"
"That sounds more like your heart talking than logic and reason" His eyes darken suddenly, despite the quirk of his lips and Emma feels as if she's crossed some unspoken line.
"Possibly. Although there are people who'd say I don't have a heart" What the hell?
"And why would they say that?"
"Because they know me well." His lips curl in a sad smile and her heart stutters...wait...what?
"Would your friend's say you're easy to get to know?" She regrets the words as soon as she says them, it's not a question on Regina's list...in fact Regina is probably going to kill her for not following the script and for being so damn rude to Jones.
"I'm a very private person and I go a long way to protect my privacy. It's not often I give interviews"
"So why did you agree to this one?" She snags onto the small comment and there's a look of pride that flashes across his face.
"Because I'm a benefactor of the university" His lips curl up into an amused smile but it doesn't quite reach his eyes "and I couldn't get Miss Mills off my back. She was continuously badgering my PR people and I admire that kind of tenacity" Emma laughs at this and he looks pleased, she clears her throat, she knows how tenacious Regina can be, it's one of the reasons she's sitting here with this devilishly handsome man rather than at home studying for exams.
"You also invest in farming technologies. Why are you interested in this area?"
"We can't eat money, Miss Swan, and there are too many people on this planet who don't have enough to eat" His voice is grave, all traces of humour gone.
"Is that something you're passionate about? Feeing the world's poor?" He shrugs in response, very non-committal and it twinges Emma's bullshit detector.
"It's shrewd business" he mutters, but his words don't make sense, there's no financial benefits to feeding the world's poor. Emma glances down at the next question.
"Do you have a particular philosophy and if so what is it?"
"I don't have a philosophy as such. Maybe a guiding principle - Carnegie's: 'A man who acquires the ability to take full possession of his own mind may take possession of anything else to which he is justly entitled.' I like to think I'm very singular, driven. I like control - of myself and those around me."
"So you're a control freak who wants to possess things?" Emma could slap herself, she half expects him to kick her out and end the interview right there but instead he laughs humorlessly.
"I want to deserve to possess them" he corrects a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"Well you definitely sound the like ultimate consumer" she murmurs, still mortified by her earlier snark. God Regina is going to kill me
"I am" his smile doesn't reach his eyes, and Emma notices again that it's an answer that's at odds with someone who wants to feed the world, it makes her feel like she's missing something. Had they begun talking about something else without her realising it? Pull yourself together Swan.
"You were adopted. How far do you think that's shaped the way you are?" her words trail off awkwardly. Having been adopted herself Emma feels uncomfortable asking him about his own experience. It's a personal question and Emma glances at him, hoping his not offended, but he sits there, his brow furrowed.
"I have no way of knowing"
"How old were you when you were adopted?" The words rush out of her mouth, a part of her is desperate to know if he understands the horrors of jumping from place to place or if he was only of the lucky ones, adopted at a young age.
"That's a matter of public record" his tone is low and rough, his accent thickening. Crap.
"You've had to sacrifice a family life for your work"
"That's not a question"
"Sorry" Her voice is harsher than she intends, he makes her feel like an errant child and it bugs her "have you had to sacrifice a family life for your work?" her tone is pure sarcasm, Jones tilts his head to the side regarding her curiously once again. Could he stop doing that?
"I have a family. I have a brother, a sister, two loving parents. I'm not interested in extending my family beyond that" Something in his tone angers her, it's like he takes his family for granted and Emma glances at the next question, spitting it out before she really processes what she's read.
"Are you gay, Mr Jones?"
He inhales sharply and Emma cringes, perhaps she could have framed it better. A part of her wants to explain that she's just reading the questions, the other half wants him to be uncomfortable for a change.
"No, Emma, I am not" His eyebrows are raised, a cool gleam in his eyes. Clearly his not pleased by the question.
"I apologize" she stammers "It's...ah...it's written here" Emma's tries to calm the butterflies in her stomach. It's the first time he's said her name and the way his accent curled around it made her heart skip a beat.
"These aren't your own questions?" He looks interested now, displeasure at her earlier question forgotten.
The blood drains from her face. Oh no.
"No...Ah...Regina - Miss Mills provided me with the questions"
"You're colleagues at the student paper?" Oh crap. Emma's cheeks flame, she has nothing to do with the student paper.
"No...She's my roommate" fuck. fuck. fuck. He strokes his chin in quiet deliberation, his blue eyes studying her.
"Did you volunteer to do this interview?" his voice is soft but there's an undercurrent of steel.
"Only because Regina's unwell" She states defensively "It was late minute"
"That explains a great deal" His teasing tone and bright eyes tell her she's said the right thing before she can answer there's a knock at the door and the redhead enters.
"Mr. Jones, forgive me for interrupting, but your next meeting is in two minutes" He doesn't even look at her before replying, his gaze intent on Emma.
"We aren't finished here, Ariel. Please cancel my next meeting." Ariel hesitates, gaping at him. She appears at a loss, Jones turns slowly to face her and raises his eyebrow. She flushes pink. Oh thank god I'm not alone in that Emma thinks.
"Of course Mr. Jones" She exits quickly. He frowns, turning his attention back to Emma.
"Where were we, Miss Swan?" Emma feels her heart drop, we're back to Miss Swan. She doesn't know why it fills her with disappointment but suddenly she wants to run, she wants to get out of that office and away from this man that's sending her emotions into turmoil.
"Please don't let me keep you from anything." She reaches for the tape recorder but his next words cause her to freeze.
"I want to know about you" Crap "I think it's only fair" The grin he gives her has her swallowing, his eyes are alight with curiosity and her heartbeat beings to pound. Double Crap. Where is he going with this? He leans to his left, his fingers resting near his mouth. It's...distracting, Emma tries desperately not to think about how soft his lips might be against her own.
"There's not much to know" Her voice is steady and she thanks God.
"What are your plans after you graduate?" He doesn't relent. Emma shrugs, she doesn't want to tell him that she plans to move to Boston with Regina, find place and a job.
"I haven't made any plans, Jones. I need to get through my final exams first" she lies. "In fact I should be at home studying rather than doing this interview" He grins, as if her defiance amuses him.
"We run and excellent internship program here," Emma raises her eyebrows in surprise. Was he offering her a job or was he messing with her?
"I'll bare that in mind. Although I'm not sure I'd fit in here" she can't help the attitude, it's her defensive side coming out. She couldn't work for him, she'd be too distracted, too...No don't go there Swan. Just get out!
"Why would you say that?" He cocks his head to the side, intrigued, there's no hint of a smile, pure confusion is written across his face.
"It's obvious isn't it?" She snaps, her mind relaying one command Get out now!
"Not to me" Panic grips her, she needs to get out. Now. Emma tears her gaze away from his blue, blue eyes, she stares down blindly at the notes in her lap, she slowly puts them away and reaches forward for the recorder.
"Would you like me to show you around?" He asks, as if he wants her to stay, like he isn't ready to let her go yet.
"I'm sure you're far too busy for that, Mr. Jones, and I have a long drive ahead of me" Keep it formal and detached, then get out Swan.
"You're driving back to Storybrooke?" he sounds surprised, anxious even. Knock it off Swan, now you're just making things up. He glances out the window, something during the interview it must have started to rain, water running down the glass plains.
"I have a shift at work to get to" She explains.
"Well, you'd better drive carefully." His tone leaves no room to debate and Emma raises her eyebrow. "Did you get everything you needed?" this time he's tone is softer
"Yes, Sir" Emma hits the stop button on the recorder and places it back into her satchel. Jones narrows his eyes. "Thank you for the interview, Jones"
"The pleasure's been all mine," Her heart skips a beat, his tone polite. As she stands he rises too, holding out his hand.
"Until we meet again" It sounds like a promise, one that makes Emma's heart pick up speed again. She frowns in confusion. She shakes his hand, trying desperately to ignore the odd current that flows between them. It has to be her imagination.
"Jones" She nods at him, and he moves with grace to the door, opening it wide.
"Just insuring you make it through, lass" he gives her a smug smile that's all cheek. Emma blushes, he's clearly referring to her earlier less-than-elegant entry into his office.
"How very considerate" she snaps and his smile only widens "I'm glad you find me so entertaining" she glowers, entering the foyer. To say she's surprised when he follows her out is an understatement, Ariel and Aurora both look up, looking equally surprised.
"Do you have a coat?" Jones asks.
"Yes" Aurora leaps up and retrieves her jacket, which Jones takes from her before she can hand it to Emma. He holds it up and feeling utterly ridiculous, she shrugs it on. Jones lifts up her braid from under the collar, his fingers lightly brushing the back of her neck and Emma surprises the shiver that races down her spine, heat curling in her stomach. His hands linger in her shoulders for a moment, and this time she can't supress the shiver completely, if he notices her reaction, he gives nothing away.
He presses the button, summoning the elevator, and they stand waiting. Emma wonders if he feels the awkward tension between them, it doesn't look like he does, he looks cool and self-possessed.
The doors open and she hurries in, desperate to escape. She turns to look at him, he's standing there, a small smile on his lips and for a moment Emma's possessed with the sudden urge to grab him but the lapels of his suit jacket and pull him into the elevator with her, kissing him until neither of them can breathe. His eyes darken and she wonders if he can sense the direction of her thoughts.
"Swan" he says in farewell.
"Jones" she replies, mercifully the doors close and she's alone, silently cursing Jones and his handsome appearance. Thank god she got out of there before she did something irrevocably stupid.
