A/N: Two of my most trusted reviewers, Feriel2017 and subway20, pointed out a couple of things that I left out of this one-shot. Here are some deleted scenes to fill in those blanks.

(For the record, this is still a one-shot...)


Scene I: Pottery Class

At 7:30 on the dot, the instructor showed up, looking like something straight out of the 60s with his clogs, loose-fitting denim cut-offs, tie-dyed t-shirt, and Grateful Dead bandana. He seemed a pleasant enough fellow, and he spoke in a low, soothing voice, introducing himself to the class and explaining what the course would cover. When he asked for a show of hands to see whether or not any of the students had any experience making pottery, Paige looked at Emily, and Emily looked at Paige, each relieved that the other was as clueless as she was.

"I bet you're going to be some kind of pottery genius!" Paige whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"Like, I bet you pick it up right away. You'll be making museum pieces before the night's over." Emily nudged Paige with her elbow, rolling her eyes. "I know your type," Paige continued. "You can pick up anything on the first try."

The instructor, distracted by their whispering, lost his train of thought and stopped, mid-sentence, glaring at the two of them. The eyes of the rest of the class followed his glare. Paige looked down, contrite and embarrassed. Emily couldn't help giggling. Paige stared at her, wide-eyed, silently pleading with her to pull it together.

The instructor explained that, for their first night, they were just going to get a feel for the movement of the wheel and for working with clay. It wasn't about making anything, but about learning the steps. "Don't worry what it looks like. It's not supposed to look like anything, yet."

As he put a tattered, clay-stained smock over his ensemble, he pointed them to a rack in the back of the room, where they could grab smocks of their own. While they did that, he went from station to station, putting clay on their wheels.


Paige was getting frustrated. Even though she knew that they weren't actually making anything, she didn't feel that she was getting the hang of it. She hadn't really been paying attention to the instructor as he gave the overview of how to use the wheel and manipulate the clay. She found herself more interested in the instep of Emily's foot and the way her sandal dangled beneath it. When Emily turned her head in Paige's direction, Paige looked up at the instructor quickly, pretending that she had been paying attention to him all along. She wasn't sure whether or not Emily had caught her staring, but, either way, Emily let her sandal fall to the floor and began stroking her instep against Paige's calf. Looking up to make sure that the instructor's attention was elsewhere, Emily reached over and pulled Paige's stool closer to her, smiling innocently as she did.

When it was Emily's turn at the wheel, she wasn't much better than Paige. Not that any of the first-timers were any good; Paige was the only one who was letting it get to her. Emily was enjoying the experience. It felt good to be able to work with her hands. Paige looked on as Emily got the turntable moving and started to make a pretty respectable cylinder on it. It was annoying. "Whoops," Paige said as she stuck a finger in the path of Emily's spinning tube, causing bits of clay to fly off and making the cylinder collapse. "Clumsy me!"

One of the flying pieces landed dead-center on Emily's chin. "Hey!" She tugged at her chin to remove the errant clay, which she smudged on Paige's cheek. "Watch those fingers, McCullers!"

"These fingers?" Paige dipped two fingers in a glob of wet clay and tried to give Emily a clay moustache, but Emily was too quick, swatting her hands away. Paige stood up with a devilish look in her eye, to get some leverage.

Their instructor was two stations over, working with a pair of students who, like the rest of the class, were actually trying to learn something. Hearing the commotion, he cleared his throat loudly. "Paige? Emily?" Paige sat down quickly and pretended that she was sculpting again. Emily taunted her with a smirk. Even though she was teasing, Paige found it incredibly sexy.

Paige was still working the wheel when the instructor made it over to them and asked, "How's it coming?"

"I think I'm getting the hang of it," Paige lied. Emily tickled her thigh under the table, causing her to lose her rhythm and to bang her knee against the wheel. She let out a yelp, more in surprise than in pain.

"You know," the instructor scolded, "there are a lot of people who genuinely want to be here tonight. If the two of you just want to play games, I can suggest a lot of other places where you can do that."

"We're sorry," Emily pleaded in her sweetest voice. Hearing it, Paige knew that she would forgive Emily for anything, whenever she used that tone. "We're just, you know... feeling mellow." Emily's smile was full of innuendo.

"Uh huh." This was something the instructor could relate to. "Well, may I remind you that this is pottery class, not just pot. Please be a little less 'mellow' for the next class."

The instructor moved on, and Paige looked at Emily, confused.

"He thinks we're…" She held her fingers to her lips, miming smoking a joint.

Paige, stunned, stifled a gasp. "Emily, I never!"

"Neither have I!" Emily protested. "I just knew that he would be able relate to that excuse!" Paige shook her head in disbelief. "Hey! You were the one who got us into this mess in the first place!"


Paige sighed, looking at her watch, wondering how much longer.

Before long, she and Emily were hanging up their smocks and heading to the sink to wash their hands. They walked out of the building and stood, awkwardly looking at each other.

"So."

"So."

"So, someone mentioned coffee?"

"Coffee," Emily said through a yawn. "That sounds good right about now."

"We can take a raincheck, if you're too tired..."

Emily scrunched her face. "Are you sure?"

Paige nodded her head with a reassuring smile. She had been looking forward to their coffee date, but it was all right. They didn't need to rush. She had the feeling that they would have plenty of time to get to know each other.

Emily smiled sweetly, taking Paige's hand. "Walk me home?"

Paige was smiling hard, too distracted by the feeling of Emily's hand wrapped around hers to reply. She just smiled and let Emily lead the way.

The walk was pleasant but brief. Emily rested her head on Paige's shoulder, yawning occasionally and apologizing each time, assuring Paige that the yawns were from exhaustion and not boredom. She stopped in front of an apartment building, standing in front of Paige and taking both of her hands, swinging them lightly. "Well, this is me!"

Paige dipped her head, wondering how to summon up the courage for the way she wanted to end their evening. Before she knew it, Emily was leaning in to press a kiss against her lips. "I had fun tonight!"

"Same," Paige assured her with a nervous chuckle, "even though you got me in trouble!"

Emily opened her mouth to protest, but she just laughed it off instead. She gave Paige a quick kiss and confirmed, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Paige nodded eagerly. Emily trotted up the walkway, using her access card to open the front door as she turned around to give Paige a final wave and disappeared inside the building.

Paige rubbed her fingers over her tingling lips before she shook her head at how sappy she was being. Tucking her hands in her pockets with a contented sigh, she started the short walk home.


Scene II: Paige's Smoothie Break

Paige mixed herself a smoothie and took a seat across the table from Emily. Emily reached for Paige's cup, stirring the beverage with the straw as, with a sly look in her eye, she told Paige, "I've always wondered what kind of smoothie an insider would drink."

"Try it," Paige urged enthusiastically.

Emily gave her a wink and sniffed at the cup, never breaking eye contact. "What's in it?" Before Paige could reply, Emily puckered her lips around the straw and took a tentative sip. "Ew! EWW!" she protested through tightly closed lips, waving her hand in front of her face and scrambling around, desperate for a napkin. Paige sat watching her, frozen in confusion at what the problem was.

Emily found a napkin and spat into it, wiping her mouth on her forearm before spitting theatrically several more times. She took a sip of her wheatgrass and kale smoothie, to expunge the taste from her mouth. She glared at Paige. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she laughed.

"Huh?"

"What is in this?" Emily demanded, waving the cup in front of Paige's face.

"Pineapple juice, some coconut, and a dash of sriracha to give it... you know - a little kick."

"God, Paige!"

Paige took the cup from Emily's hands and took a long sip, shrugging her shoulders as she concluded that there was nothing wrong with it.

Emily shook her head, pointing her finger at Paige. "Never make me drink that again!"

Paige dipped her head. "Sorry..."

Emily grabbed Paige's wrists and smiled at her, to let her know that she wasn't mad, just teasing. "Seriously, though, how can you drink that?"

"Well, it's better than that cow cocktail you're drinking," Paige retorted with smiling eyes.

"Oh, shut up and kiss me!" Emily reached behind Paige's head and pulled her in. She stopped with Paige's lips less than an inch away. "Wait..." Emily wiped Paige's mouth with her palm and stroked her thumb over Paige's lips a couple of times for good measure before she kissed her.

Paige rolled her eyes and kissed her again. "You're hilarious," she droned.

Spencer stood watching, idly tossing the balled up towel that she had been using to wipe down the counter a couple of inches in the air and catching it again as she observed the two of them, stunned but pleased by what she saw.


Paige pushed her break as long as she possibly could, but eventually, she had to get back to work. She walked Emily to the door, placing a hand on her waist as she gave her a kiss good-bye.

Spencer busied herself wiping down the smoothie machine, to give them their privacy, but as soon as Paige made it back behind the counter, she gave her an enthusiastic hug, demanding all the details.