Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Back to the Future franchise nor the characters, scenes, or dialogue on which this story is based.

This is my ooey gooey sugary sweet interpretation of the thoughts and feelings of our boi Emmett as he discovers his feelings towards Clara after the town festival. This is my first ever published fanfic which I wrote for this super dead fandom hoping there are still some of you out there that share my love for this franchise. Please R&R and enjoy!

Saturday, September 5, 1885

11:21 p.m.

Hill Valley, California

"You're quoting Jules Verne: From the Earth to the Moon!"

"You've read Jules Verne?"

"I adore Jules Verne."

In all his years of placing his full faith and trust in empirical evidence to understand and make sense of the world around him, Emmett Lathrop Brown, possibly for the first time in his life, was completely unable to believe or explain what was right in front of his eyes. This absolutely radiant, lovely, charming woman seemed to him an unearthly level of perfection that he'd thought could never be attained in this universe. How could someone so magnificent possibly be giving him the time of day?

He recalled that immediately after having met her for the first time, Marty had pointed out an expression on her face that seemed to imply some sort of strong feelings. He had dismissed it as a result of a whirlwind of emotions from her near-death experience. During their subsequent interactions: when they were inspecting her telescope together and this evening at the festival when she agreed to dance with him, he hesitantly allowed himself to admit the possibility that she held some form of affection for him. And now as they were observing the heavens whose beauty inspired some of the greatest minds in history yet were still not half so captivating as her eyes; the scientist could not believe his amazing luck. To be the only man in all of time and space to appear to have accessed the ability to transcend time, and to find himself in this time and place by pure happenstance: a literal bolt out of the blue, with this woman whose beauty could only be matched by her intelligence and warmth, he could not imagine what divine actor he had so pleased to bring him to this moment.

"So do I. 20,0000 Leagues Under the Sea, my absolute favorite! The first time I read that when I was a little boy, I wanted to meet Captain Nemo…"

Her laugh was the sweetest sound to have ever touched his ears. After decades of enduring the role of "town crackpot," receiving strange looks and spiteful laughter on more than one occasion from the people of 1985 Hill Valley, and throughout most of his adult life only receiving any positive attention from Marty, he lost hope ages ago in the possibility of female companionship. Even now, perhaps he was being paranoid and remaining in denial in order to spare his feelings, but he did not want to get ahead of himself. Clara showed him kindness, true, and appeared to enjoy his company. But Victorian hospitality, gratitude for his having saved her life, and perhaps even a friendly affection for him due to their common interests could all be factors in her behavior towards him. In addition, he held a great fear of the incredible danger involved in developing any romantic feelings toward someone from a different time. The temporal, not to mention emotional, consequences could be disastrous! And yet…

"Don't tease, Emmett, you couldn't have read that when you were a little boy, it was only first published ten years ago!"

Immediately he was reminded once again of the dangers of excessive interaction with individuals from other times. He had chastised Marty for that very transgression numerous times and was currently being nothing short of a complete hypocrite. There were an infinite number of ways these interactions could go wrong and cause repercussions. A simple slip of the tongue could be all it took to unleash one of the most dangerous secrets in the world. He had to stay sharp, which he was finding increasingly difficult to do under the gaze of such a pretty face.

"Oh, yes, well, I meant it made me feel like a boy." She seemed to understand. She was so incredibly understanding and empathetic towards him like that which he had never experienced before, even from Marty or his own mother. Certainly, they loved him, but Clara seemed to possess a unique understanding of and acceptance for the way he was on a level that no one else in his life could or would. As hard as he tried, he simply could not help himself but to want to learn everything about her, spend every waking moment with her, and shower her with a complete dissertation elucidating the innumerable qualities that made her so wonderful.

"I never met a woman who liked Jules Verne before," or who radiated such warmth, such intelligence, such a sugary sweet demeanor; not to mention such timeless beauty that could not be matched by any movie star: past, present, or future.

She looked at him seriously. "I never ever met a man like you before." He smiled gently, trying desperately to bury the school-boy giddiness he felt rising in his chest. She looked back and forth from his mouth to his eyes, seeming to search for an answer in his face. How could he pass up the opportunity to show this amazing woman how he felt? The words she had just spoken echoed the hypothesis of his feelings towards her. She was one in a million. One in a billion. One in a googolplex. He had to confirm what his heart so desperately wanted to believe.

Whether it was some undiscovered cohesive physical force or the deliriousness he experienced from his abounding happiness, something drew his face closer to hers. Deep down, the tiny portion of his brain that was still thinking logically knew that once he gave into his feelings, his heart would be hers from that moment forward; no matter what the forces of time, space, or temporal interference brought him, his life would never be the same. The repercussions could be catastrophic.

To hell with the repercussions.

As he leaned into her face, her dark, feminine eyelashes fluttered closed and she leaned towards him in the opposite direction. He felt the warmth of her face and detected a faint scent of lavender as he brought his lips to hers. In that moment, all the questions that burned in his heart would be answered.

He knew immediately that he would never have the desire to kiss another set of lips for the rest of his days. His senses were overwhelmed, and it was as if his mind was incapable of processing anything but the sweetness of her lips in that moment. He cautiously brought his hands around her back to pull her closer and was over the moon when she brought her hands to his chest, gently gripping his lapels as she leaned into his body. After a few blissful moments, he broke the kiss only to bring his hand up to her chin and kiss her right cheek, forehead, and left cheek, and bring her face back to look at her fully.

The rosiness in her lips and cheeks made her look younger than her years as her eyes opened and her smile widened. "Oh, Emmett," she said softly as she brought her hand up to his face to caress it. "You really are the sweetest man I've ever known."

He brushed back her curls. "I…I'm truly at a loss for words, Clara…you're so lovely. I…I'm just an eccentric old bachelor. How could you possibly have feelings for me?"

"Oh, Emmett." She looked almost hurt by his words. "You are the kindest, most thoughtful and intelligent man I have ever met. What woman in her right mind would turn you away?"

He chuckled ruefully. "You would be surprised." He took both her hands and kissed them, caressing her delicate fingers with his thumbs and looking down at their joined hands, content with the silence as he reveled in this moment.

"Would you like to go inside for tea?" she asked him. It was getting late and she was due to begin her teaching assignment the following Monday. He certainly did not want to be the cause of her being unprepared or too tired to complete her lesson plans; and of even graver concern was the possibility of causing her the scandal of having invited the local single blacksmith into her home without an escort in the wee hours of the night. Despite all his fears, in that moment all he knew was that he would follow her anywhere she wanted to go, do anything she wanted to do, and be anything she wanted him to be.

"Yes Clara, I would like that."

He helped her gather up her telescope and stepped down off the carriage, his knees still slightly wobbly from his dreamlike state. He circled around the back, took the telescope from her, and set it to the side so he could help her down. She took his hand and carefully stepped onto the ground, but instead of letting go afterward, she took his other hand and turned so she stood directly in front of him. He brought her hands up to kiss them again, lingering slightly longer than the last time, and turning over her right hand, he left a few light kisses on the inside of her wrist and palm. The pair seemed to have been of one mind as Clara released her hand to cup his face and he linked his fingers through the soft ringlets behind her neck and brought her face up to his once more.

He looped his other arm around her waist to pull her against him. The feeling of her petite form pressed flush against his body sent shockwaves through his nervous system. He certainly did not wish to alarm her with any rash actions; after having to endure the image of her being accosted and groped so disgustingly by Buford Tannen while Emmett was left to watch helplessly, the scientist was determined to treat her with nothing less than the utmost respect and gentleness that she deserved. Not to mention that he was so entranced by her that he felt as if one false move could cause her to disappear into thin air like a will o' the wisp and put an end to this euphoric dream. Despite every cell in his body urging him to continue to taste, touch, and explore this new territory he found himself so utterly weakened by, it simply would not do to lose his head entirely. No, the best thing to do would be to proceed with utmost caution.

He scaled back the intensity of the kiss and ended it with a peck on the forehead and pulling her into a warm embrace, he ran his fingers absentmindedly through her loose curls and rested his cheek on the top of her head. Caressing her back with his other hand, he whispered, "So how about that tea, eh?"

He felt her giggle in his arms as she looked up at him. "You're worried about tea after you just kissed the living daylights out of me?" He couldn't help but laugh, too.

"My apologies, Miss, how forward of me. I shall never be so bold again if it offends you so." She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Oh, but I'm afraid you've been mistaken. If I may be so forward myself, I give you my express permission to kiss me like that whenever you please." She kissed him again briefly but pointedly. After a moment, Clara slid reluctantly out of his arms with the intent to pick up her telescope and make her way inside with him. But as if he was reading her mind, he grabbed the case from the carriage and reached out his other hand for her to take.

They walked together towards her cabin, strolling hand in hand in no particular hurry, content to listen to the late summer insects and wild fauna singing their ambient songs, to feel the cool September breeze signal the coming change of seasons, and to reflect on the feelings they could not yet express verbally, but could each feel in their hearts that they already knew would change their lives forever.