(Continues to get rid of stuff and edit)


Emma arrived at the Jacobs' "cozy" home exactly on time. She then proceeded to stall shamelessly. She found that she just could not bring herself to enter that house. The implications of Sarah's bribe irked her, insulted her honor, and yet…to deny that food…homemade food! She wasn't sure if it was something she could force herself to resist.

As she was equivocating, aloud (and quite belligerently), to herself, weighing the gains and losses of such a small tactical surrender, scuffing noises alerted her to the new variable in her surroundings. She looked up to watch as Blink turned the corner. He was whistling, happily, and looking very pleased with himself. This new, and not unwelcome, development forced Emma to postpone her decision for the much more enjoyable task of taunting her friend.

She wondered who had given her away, for he was obviously ready for her, cocking his head and asking with an exasperated chuckle; "Emma, do you like trouble, or does it just follow you everywhere?" He took an experimental step forward, and she took a measured one back.

"I am just the victim of ill luck!" Emma insisted, alarmingly virtuous, swiping the stolen hat from atop her head, and clasping it to what she assumed to be her heart, in the most dramatic fashion she could.

"Your heart's on the other side." Blink critiqued, slyly taking advantage of Emma's momentary lapse in concentration, and making a daring attempt to rescue the hat Emma was holding hostage. He wasn't quite fast enough though, and Emma's instincts were sharp. She darted away at the last possible moment, and deftly assessed her current predicament.

Unfortunately for Emma, she had not been properly prepared this confrontation, and as such the surrounding area lacked the proper poles or monuments for her to shinny up. Intensifying Blink's rather steep advantage were the four inches he had over her even five ft. stature.

Happily cursing her luck, and thinking quickly, Emma scrambled towards the fire escape, with the blond boy only scant inches behind her, and gaining. Flinging sassy insults over her shoulder as scrambled up the stairs, and laughing helplessly at the retorts he tossed instantly back to her; Emma managed to keep just barely ahead of him. Though she knew it was only a matter of time before he caught up to her.

"You are a dirty, rotten, thief!"

"I resent that! I just had a bath, Cyclops!"

"Whata you mean, Cyclops! The ladies love me! It's considered dashing!"

"Dashing or not, sense when have you been with a lady?"

"Ouch! You got me! Direct shot to my honor!"

"Blink, you don't have any honor!"

"No, I don't have my hat!"

Still laughing and bickering with her pursuer, Emma had nearly reached the relative sanctuary of the roof, where she would have room to run, when one of the rusty, misshapen, rails snagged at the hem of her skort. Catching her wholly off guard, the abrupt halt in her momentum sent Emma into sprawling, face-first, tumble towards the metal stairs.

Emma's experience-honed reflexes, braced automatically for the hard landing, and she tensed for the blow of metal on skin. Instead of a painful impact, she felt a steadying arm wrapped around her middle, yanking her back into the relative softness of Blink's chest with a soft thud.

It took Emma's adrenalin rattled brain a frenzied moment to sort the sequence of events into a rational order. Blink, completely unfazed by his own semi-heroic deed, took full advantage of the momentary respite in Emma's activity. Without relinquishing the girl from his casually protective hold, he plucked his misappropriated hat easily from Emma's head and returned it to the safety of its rightful, slightly skewed, perch, atop his own skull.

All of this before Emma had even gathered the presence of mind or concentration to pull away from him, sharply, very glad that he could not see the red tinting her cheeks. She took a moment to banish the blush, and quickly shake the confusion from her thoughts, before turning to him, with an angry exclamation.

"Interference!" she insisted, heatedly, one hand on her hip and the other waving emotively.

Staving off the delighted smile long enough for a response; "It's your own fault, wearing skirts!" he couldn't help but breaking into a saucy grin as he amended the implied reproof, "Not that I'm complaining…"

Emma rolled her eyes, groaning "You have no shame." The accusation was undermined by the amused grin that it was accompanied by. Their mutual respect may have been unspoken, but it was none the less understood.

"None," He agreed, shrugging, and flashing her a crooked smile, new to her, before glancing down at his grumbling stomach.

"But I do have to get to dinner." He turned, trotting down the few flights of stairs between the roof and his destination and entering the Jacobs' house via the bedroom window.

"Him too?" Emma wondered silently to herself, but this wasn't the time for thinking, as her stomach noisily reminded her, it was time for food. She took a deep breath, promising herself a good thorough talking to later, before following him into the house, for a much needed dinner.


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