A/N: This work was originally posted on AO3 - all stories will now be posted on both sites. Link is in my profile.

My first multi chapter fic for these two. I haven't decided if I want this to be linear or more of a one-shot compilation, but they'll all be in the same universe. I'm doing a bit of a time jump so everything that's happened in the past 3 seasons are canon, but season 4 will air before I finish this (what with my sloth like pace). Depending on what happens I may include that in my story as well. Not entirely sure where this ride is going or how long it will take, but hopefully you will enjoy it!

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Heart attacks are rare at her age but if the pounding in her chest was any indication then Emma Hayes may end up being the exception. That's the only plausible explanation for the rapid pulse, shortness of breath and the blood she could feel heating her cheeks.

It couldn't possibly be anything else. Certainly nothing to do with her dads rookie. Smiling. At her. Right now.

Absolutely not.

As if the sheer embarrassment of the entire situation wasn't enough to make her want to fold in on herself, he has to go and stand there with that stupidly perfect smile and that scruffy beard - she didn't think she even liked beards, but God.

This is what being a good friend gets her.

This is what being in the vicinity of Clay Spenser gets her.

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While she had enjoyed her time studying in New York, it was nice to come home to Virginia Beach. It's a welcome change from the hustle and bustle of the Big Apple. Now that summer had arrived, she would be spending her free time on a breezy beach instead of being roasted alive while making her way down the sidewalk like an ant under a magnifying glass. There wasn't much of a contest.

And it would be a lie if she said she didn't miss her dad and brother. With all of them going their separate ways - her to Tisch, Mikey to boarding school and her dad to whatever secret mission the Navy felt best to send him on - Emma wanted that time to reconnect with her family.

Most of all, she needed the time to visit her mother.

Those were tear-filled moments as Emma detailed her adventures in the big city to Alana. Telling her how much she missed her as she carefully arranged the small bright bouquet of daisies and forget-me-nots against her headstone. It gave her a small sense of comfort after, despite the crying. These were moments she would always cherish even if she wasn't sure she was being heard. Though she had faith and her dad - of all people - always reassured her that she was.

The rest of her time was split between occasionally babysitting RJ and Jameelah and working midday shifts at the boardwalk ice cream shop with Hannah before the two would run off to the beach, the shopping plazas or in this case, a bar.

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That's what brings her to the present

One moment she's trying to enjoy the bar scene with her best friend ten miles out of town seeing as they're just on the wrong side of 21 and said best friend is prone to questionable decisions with even more questionable guys; they do not talk about the Dirty Duck debacle of 2020. Next, it's Hannah on the ground in the smallest bathroom she has ever stepped foot in. Each hand is braced against a wall while Emma stands behind her in the doorway keeping her hair from tumbling into the acidic mixture of three passion punches, two silver bullets and stomach bile.

All this immediately being followed by some jackhole thinking it was a prime opportunity to grope her. Emma had clocked him earlier when he kept walking by their table; late 30's in distressed flannel and stained jeans, flushed pink from alcohol which only served to accentuate the ginger tinge in his beard. Too drunk to be attractive and too old to be acting on the thoughts he had concerning them. Not that it seemed to stop him. No doubt he was also the reason for the round of shots that were dropped off by the bartender. Hannah downed both of them quickly when Emma refused but they've made sure to make a reappearance even faster. Her blatant disregard for the unwanted admirer's passes looked to have called for a more hands on approach.

That being said, Emma couldn't be held responsible for the elbow she promptly slammed into his face or the broken nose he was cradling in his hands as a result. His voice was muffled and nasally as he shouted while attempting to stem the blood flow.

"What the fuck?!"

"Back off, asshole!" Emma snarled before lunging to keep a teetering Hannah from face planting into porcelain.

The guy shoved himself away from the wall towards her, blood smeared and still dripping down his chin. His sweaty palm reached for her arm, "I think you should be nicer to me you little b-"

A large tanned hand smacked down onto his shoulder before he could finish, gripping tightly before flinging him back against the opposite wall. He let out a yelp as his head bounced back against the wood paneling he had just reared off of. The same hand kept him firmly in place while another jerked him upright by his collar.

"Take the hint." A familiar voice firmly ordered. "Get lost."

The bar stalker seemed to comprehend her mystery helper's message better than the elbow to the face. She appreciated it greatly as she busied herself resettling Hannah against the wall. Some of her tension was relieved by the sound of his footsteps stumbling away.

"Not that I needed it, but thanks for the assist." Emma remarked, turning to face the newcomer and immediately freezing in place.

"Shit!" She hissed, eyes wide.

"Clay, actually, but you already know that." He smirked, nudging the bill of his baseball cap up with his finger as he leaned against the doorjamb across from her.

"Please tell me my dad isn't here." Emma begged, rising up on her toes to peak over Clay's broad shoulder as if Jason were going to jump out from around the corner to surprise her the way he was so fond of when he would get back from a spin.

"My dad isn't here." He immediately replied, earning him the patented Hayes glare of you're-going-to-run-hills-until-you-die-if-you-don't-wise-up™. Impressively enough it was still kind of scary even if she was 7 years younger and decidedly not his boss. He held his hands up in surrender regardless. "You're dad isn't here."

Emma sagged back against the door while still eyeing him up and down suspiciously.

"What's your price?"

His brow raised. "You think I can be bought?"

"Please," Emma snorted, inspecting her nails. "I could bury Bravo with the amount of dirt I have. You've all helped Mikey and I get away with so much crap over the years, it's practically mutually assured destruction."

"I don't negotiate with terrorists." He crossed his arms.

"Not even for, say, oreo truffles?"

The beat of silence that followed was telling.

"...I'm listening."

"I'll make an entire batch with peanut butter chunks, just the way you like them. And no one will know so you won't have to share."

The team was like a pack of starved hyenas with the way they swiped food out from under each other. Literally in some cases. Emma had almost felt bad the time she had watched Clay distract Sonny while Brock snatched the cookies off his plate at one of the many Bravo family bar-b-q's. She was too busy laughing at the burly Texan practically taking flight to tackle a retreating Clay into the pool. Not that she was laughing when the curly-headed blond climbed out of the pool. All soaking wet with his thin t-shirt sticking to his - nope! Not going there.

She refuses to revert back to her days of 'Emma Louise Spenser'. That section of her journal was thankfully short and expeditiously incinerated in their fire pit before she packed up her stuff to leave for college. There's no way she could have left something so incriminating to possibly be discovered by her dad or worse, her brother. That kind of blackmail lasts a lifetime.

Suffice to say Emma was consoled by the fact that there was no evidence of the most pointless crush she'd ever deluded herself into having.

She forced herself to focus back on the task at hand. Namely that extracting Hannah from this bathroom, let alone the bar, was going to be a challenge. The aforementioned friend was slumped with her head against the sink, her eyes crusted closed by the heavy application of mascara and eyeliner she had used in an effort to make herself look older. The tears brought on by her retching had lifted the make-up, rivulets of black running down her cheeks.

Emma heaved a sigh at the forlorn picture. "Help me get her outside and into a cab and I'll throw in a pan of brownies as well."

"You're not taking a cab." He remarked. "I'll drive you."

"I'm pretty sure people are going to recognize the flame decals on your car - very subtle choice by the way. That would defeat the purpose of sneaking her home. Also," she added as she adjusted her jacket and purse strap. "assuming you didn't decide to go out drinking by yourself, shouldn't you let your date know you're leaving?"

"No date." Clay corrected quickly. "Bachelor party, actually. For one of the guys I was on Green Team with." He motioned to the group of men in the back corner. Some were still drunkenly singing and laughing while they gathered around a dartboard. A man with a t-shirt proudly declaring him 'The Phoque-ing Groom' stood at the center of them, shakily aiming his dart.

"You may have been treated to their off-key rendition of 'Good Riddance' earlier."

"Appropriate." Emma commented dryly. "I thought I recognized the cries for help."

She squinted her eyes as if studying his attire closely. "You don't look like you're covered in stripper glitter."

"We wore ponchos to hide the evidence."

"How resourceful. I'm sure the bride will be thrilled if she ever finds out."

"What can I say, I'm on a roll with secrets tonight." He quipped, shrugging. "And while a cab may be more subtle in a suburban neighborhood you seem to think is rife with nightowls, I'm not so sure your driver will be up for helping you get her back outof the car let alone up the driveway and in the door."

Their attention was pulled to the low groaning noise coming from Hannah as she swiped fruitlessly at the hair falling in her face. "Em," she slurred, "think'm drunk."

Clay gestured to her prone form. "I don't think she's going to be mobile anytime soon."

He wasn't wrong. Their friends called her "Raggedy Hannah" when she drank too much because like the referenced rag doll she had a tendency to go limp when she'd had enough. She didn't fight but she didn't help either.

"Fine." Emma agreed grudgingly, too tired to let this to be the hill she dies on.

"Seal the deal?" He stuck out his pinky with a playful smirk.

She shook her head in amusement before locking her little finger with his. "Sometimes I can't believe they let you be a SEAL."

"Really?" He quirked an eyebrow, chuckling. "Not even considering Sonny?"

"Fair enough." She conceded.

Clay gestured down the hallway towards the bar. "I'll grab Hannah while you settle up."

Emma nodded, digging her wallet out of her purse. "Meet you at the car."

She was loath to admit that having him there to muscle Hannah where she needed to go was much easier than the usual song and dance of being the designated sober friend. By the time Emma got outside Clay was leaning against the passenger side door while Hannah sagged against the window in the back seat. "Package has been secured."

"Good copy, Bravo Six."

He smiled, stepping forward and holding the door open for her. "Get in the car."

The ride was uneventful though it was amusing to watch the slight panicked look on Clay's face everytime Hannah would shift a little in her seat or release a hacking cough. Emma huffed a laugh at the thought. His precious upholstery being in danger will probably make him think twice next time.

"So what brought on this mini road trip?"

Emma fiddled with the radio before settling on a station and setting the volume low enough that they could still hear each other. "It wasn't my idea, if that's what you're thinking." She asserted, glancing over her shoulder to check on Hannah before facing forward with a sigh. "Her birthday's tomorrow and her mom is planning a dinner." She explained, picking at a stray thread on her sleeve. "She insisted on going out tonight and I couldn't let her go by herself. She's been having a hard time with school and things have been rough with her mom since…"

Since her life was derailed. Utterly and unequivocally changed in what seemed like a matter of moments when Jason Hayes showed up on their doorstep in dress uniform.

They both knew what she wasn't saying.

"Her dad." Clay swallowed heavily. She could see the muscle in his jaw flex as he grit his teeth.

"Yeah." She whispered, taking a steadying breath. "Most days are better than others but holidays and birthdays are the worst. Another reminder."

Emma understood that pain. The way people can leave holes in your life when they're gone and the struggle to fill that space where they used to be to distract from the void. She still had her own days too; days she felt the loss of her mom so keenly it burned. Time may heal all wounds but they still leave scars. Emma suspected it was a feeling Clay was all too familiar with as well.

She was brought out of her thoughts by a warm, calloused hand gripping her own in reassurance.

"It's good that she has you to look out for her."

"So I can hold her hair back?" She smiled grimly.

"And defend the both of you against handsy assholes. That elbow to the face was a thing of beauty." He replied, throwing her a lopsided grin. "Jason would've been proud. Probably not until after he had the guys head mounted in his cage, but still. Proud."

And what a golden opportunity to gloat that she didn't need that concealed carry permit after all. Though it's one she'd have to pass on seeing as Emma never intended for her dad to find out that she was at a bar let alone being sexually harassed.

"Thank you, again." At his questioning look she clarified. "For helping with that guy."

"Not that you needed it." He joked, recalling her earlier words.

She gave a satisfied nod, settling further in her seat for the last stretch of the ride. "Exactly."

The street was quiet as Clay pulled up in front of the Seaver home, killing the engine. Most of the residences were dark, the only light coming from the street lamps dotted along the sidewalks.

Emma and Clay got out of the car, Emma leaning the front seat forward so they could extract Hannah. She wondered again how he had managed to get her back there so quickly without the ease of a door to the back seat.

"Okay." Clay said, taking off his cap to card his fingers through his hair as he assessed the situation before stuffing it back on backwards to keep it out of the way. "Here we go."

What proceeded was a ridiculous tug of war in which the rope was practically a human noodle and the other end of the rope wasn't necessarily being tugged, just dragged down by dead weight. Hannah was a formidable opponent despite being unconscious. After a couple minutes of struggling, a few choice curse words and Clay muttering that they should have covered this in Green Team training, they were making their way to the front door.

Emma fished Hannah's house keys out of her purse and the pair quietly made their way inside. She led him back to Hannah's room where he laid her down on her bed before stepping back to let Emma take over.

"Could you grab a water bottle from the kitchen while I get her sorted? Oh and the Advil in the top drawer of the guest bathroom." Emma asked over her shoulder.

She removed Hannah's jacket and shoes before wrestling the blanket out from under her and maneuvering her feet sideways to tuck her in. Clay was back with the water and pain meds, placing them on the bedside table as Emma moved a small trash can next to the bed just in case.

"Good to go?" Clay asked, glancing down the hall as if Victoria was going to emerge and catch them at any moment. But while Hannah's struggle to cope was apparent more often than not, Mrs. Seaver's showed itself at night when nothing short of medicinal intervention could quiet down the memories of a husband she could no longer share a bed - a life - with.

"We're good. Mrs. Seaver usually takes an ambien before bed so she'll be out until morning." She reassured, leading them both out of the room and closing the door softly behind her. "Come on, I'll walk you out."

The two padded softly through the living room area towards the front door. Emma flicked on the porch light for Clay before letting him out, lingering in the doorway as he turned towards her.

"So," Emma started as Clay shoved his hands in his jean pockets. "Looks like you've already crushed your good deed for the day." She leaned forward to peak at the inky night sky. "And before the sun even came up."

"I think this might finally earn me my last merit badge."

"They have badges for aiding and abetting underage college girls?"

Clay cringed. "It sounds bad when you say it like that."

"How does it sound the way you say it?"

"Courteous. Chivalrous. Maybe a bit gallant."

Emma hummed in understanding before scrunching her nose. "I think having to bargain for it may put a bit of a damper on those honorable intentions."

"I risked my car." He pointed out. "And the wrath of all parental units involved."

"True." She agreed. The less people who knew about this the better. "You can rest assured that Hannah will appreciate your status as her knight in shining armor. Practically a dream come true."

And there she goes, letting her snark get the best of her. She regretted the words the moment they left her lips. Sometimes teasing can hit close and this was dangerously within range of revealing cards that were held to the chest for a reason. Unfortunately they applied not only to Hannah (in all her boy crazy glory) but Emma as well (because, hello, she's not blind). She hoped maybe, maybe he might have missed it, but Emma knew that was in vain by the mischievous glint in his eyes.

A smile slowly spread across his face. "Why's that?"

Emma huffed at having slipped, crossing her arms and lifting her chin despite the blush rising on her cheeks. "I couldn't possibly say."

Clay made an attempt to smother his amusement. While his time in the Navy gave him a better chance at keeping a straight face, she could still see those traces as he nodded sagely. "Girl code."

"Girl code doesn't apply." She scoffed, trying and most likely failing to throw him off the scent. "There's nothing going on for that to be relevant."

"Of course not." He placated with a smirk.

"That would be ridiculous."

"I believe you."

"And incredibly bold of you to assume."

"Well I wouldn't say incredibly."

"It's just an expression." She insisted.

"It is." Clay confirmed. "I think there's another one about protesting too much."

"Would you look at the time!" Emma abruptly exclaimed, tapping her fingers an empty wrist. "Better get to bed, lots to do tomorrow. Goodnight, Clay!"

He chuckled, pulling his keys out of his pocket. "Goodnight." His index hooked into the ring, spinning it around his finger as he started away from the door.

Just as he was about to leave the covered porch, Clay stopped suddenly as if an important thought had just occurred to him and pivoted back towards her. "Emma?"

She paused in closing the door, her cheeks still rosy. "Yeah?"

"You know I would've helped you anyways, right." He stated sincerely, his gaze steady. "No bribe necessary."

Emma smiled softly at his earnest expression and nodded. "I know."

Clay let out a breath, almost sounding relieved before giving a small smile in return. "Night, Em."

"Night." She quietly replied, shutting the door with a gentle click on his retreating form.

Emma leaned back against the door, heaving her own sigh. She waited a moment for the sound of his car starting up before flipping off the porch light and putting the rest of the house to sleep on her way back to Hannah's room.

She was too worn out to think about the implications of what had just happened between her and Clay. Not that it had to be anything at all, of course. He had always been kind and funny and helpful when it came to Emma and the other members of the Bravo family. This was no different.

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that something important had happened as she crawled beneath the bed covers. Hannah stirred, her eyes cracking open at Emma's movement before squeezing back shut.

"Made it?" The question came out garbled but Emma was fluent in hungover Hannah.

"Yeah, Han. We made it back safe and sound."

"Good." She mumbled as she burrowed deeper into her pillow. "Was havin'a dream. Good dream. Hot guy'n a car."

Emma squeezed her lips shut to keep her laugh from spilling out. "You can tell me all about it in the morning."

"K." Hannah breathed, traveling quickly back to the land of nod.

Emma shut off the bedside lamp and eased back against her pillow, willing her mind to shut off long enough to relax into sleep.

She'd leave interpreting Hannah's 'dreams' and her own puzzle of feelings for tomorrow.

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A/N: Please leave a review with any thoughts, feelings or constructive criticism. Feedback is welcome! Thank you all for reading!