AN: Bit of a story behind this one; I got another Makiemma art piece commissioned from iL on Twitter (iL_suffered, check her out!) and much like the last one she did her work was so stellar it inspired me to write a fic about it! Thus, I present to you some bookworm office AU in what is most definitely a first for me :D I never thought I'd be naming a fic after a CCS opening - another first - but then again I also never thought I'd ever write any kind of AU story for any fandom I'm in besides Build Fighters. If that doesn't stand as proof of how compelling the final commission was... well, then I dunno know what does.

(For the record, I'm honestly not sure if this'll ever get a sequel or not but I definitely had a ton of fun writing it! It's nice to branch out every once in a while.)

Catch You, Catch Me

While this wasn't the worst start to a workday that Emma had lived through, it was definitely doing its best to frame itself as a leading candidate.

"I-I'm very sorry!" the taller man apologized in a rush, his glasses slightly askew as he blinked from beneath her, the mass of paper strewn about the floor a testament to their forceful collision.

In retrospect, she was very lucky that his reflexes were apparently quite sharp. Though falling on him wasn't exactly what one would call ideal, falling on the unforgiving tile would have been far, far worse.

"No, that's all right! I should be the one apologizing if anything," she said, hastily pulling herself into a kneeling position to clean up the mess. "I was in a hurry and didn't watch where I was going."

Her knee was starting to throb in spite of her generally fortuitous landing. She tried to pay it no mind.

"Hmm. I'm fairly certain that I ran into you but we can agree to disagree," he replied, studiously ignoring her rapid-fire protests as he pulled himself up and started to help. "I do hope these weren't for anything with a particularly tight deadline?"

Emma shook her head, recognizing the battle was already lost. "Not as such. I'm just trying to reconcile some old records that weren't kept electronically," she continued, quickly scanning the pages and shuffling them into order as best she could, "while trying not to cause a mess along the way. I suppose one for two isn't bad."

He chuckled a little at that, his solemn countenance breaking just a little. "I would agree with that."

She was able to look at him properly now, taking in his dark green hair, sharp features and angular glasses; there was a maddening sense of familiarity about him, she realized, but from where...?

"Pardon my boldness," he continued, his brow furrowing, "but would you mind if I asked you a question?"

In spite of everything, Emma couldn't help but giggle. "I believe you just did."

The sigh was both heavy and resigned, a telltale sign that he had recognized his mistake far too late. "I asked for that one, didn't I?"

"Perhaps. But by all means, feel free to ask a second one."

"Funny." His eyes narrowed behind his lenses in consideration before he spoke again, hesitant and unsure. "Your name wouldn't happen to be Emma, would it? Emma Millstein?"

Her shuffling ceased.

"Y-Yes." She carefully smoothed her skirt down with her free hand, the odd sense of deja vu growing by the moment.

He nodded, smiling just a little; unexpected, perhaps, but not necessarily unwelcome. "I knew you looked familiar. Jusis had mentioned that quite a few Thors alumni had wound up working here for one reason or another, and I have to admit; it's nice to finally run into one.

Thors.

The mention of her alma mater was enough to jostle her memories, flashes and images of times gone by running through her head like a slideshow, and with them the specter standing in front of her finally had a name.

"Oh! Now I remember - you're Machias, right?" she asked, more than a bit relieved at having solved the conundrum. "Machias Regnitz?"

"That's right. It's nice to finally meet you - er, so to speak," he said, extending his hand in welcome. "I'd heard quite a bit about you back at school. Your academic reputation preceded you."

"Yours as well!" Emma laughed as she reached out to out to shake, his grip warm and welcoming. "I remember more than a few clubmates bemoaning a mysterious 'destroyer of the curve' in some of their classes. I don't suppose that was you?"

"Destroyer of the curve," Machias repeated, rolling his eyes. "It's... possible? I have a sneaking suspicion, though, that these clubmates of yours could have done some destroying of their own had they hit the books a little bit more."

"Hehe. Well, I can't officially confirm or deny that..."

"Off the record, then."

"Off the record?" Emma said, flashing him a tiny grin. "I can't in good conscience say you're incorrect."

"I figured as much," he replied dryly. "To be honest, some of mine were the same way."

She started to say something else - maybe a quip about how birds of a feather flocked together, or to ask him if he'd taken many classes with Jusis - but the sudden flare of pain that shot up her leg when she gingerly tried to shift her weight put a stop to that endeavor before it could even begin.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his eyes widening when they set upon the rapidly growing bruise that adorned her left knee.

"I thought I was, but it looks as though the visual evidence says otherwise." She winced slightly as she ran her fingers along the darkening skin, a sharp contrast to her fair complexion.

"Is it bad?"

Emma shook her head. "I don't think so," she answered, flexing her leg experimentally. "I'm fairly certain I'll still be able to walk without too much trouble. It might ache a little for the next couple of days, but..."

She fell silent when she saw him frown and briefly look away, guilt written all over his features.

"I'm very so - "

"You said that already," Emma interrupted with an upraised hand, and in spite of everything she couldn't help but giggle at the now slightly affronted expression on his face. "It's all right, Machias. First off, I think we've safely established that our collision was a mutual one -

"W-We've established no such thing!"

"And second," she continued, cheerfully ignoring his indignant grumbling, "you did try and catch me, remember? If not for that..."

Her words trailed off but judging from his slow, resigned nod they apparently had their desired effect, much to her satisfaction.

"If you say so," he conceded, still not looking entirely convinced. "One could argue that had I done a better job you wouldn't have been hurt to start with."

"People can argue a lot of things. I'll be all right, though," she assured him, her earlier embarrassment having vanished entirely. "Truly, I will."

After a moment or two Machias sighed and exhaled roughly, the tension visibly draining from his (rather broad) shoulders.

"If you say so. But would you at least let me escort you to the infirmary to get looked at? It's the least I can do."

On one hand, she knew there was no pressing need. Her paperwork was all neatly reorganized and the soreness in her leg was already starting to recede - kind of - so there wasn't any legitimate reason to keep her new/old acquaintance from doing his job.

On the other hand, however...

"Oh, if you insist," she agreed with a friendly smile, and she was rather gratified to see him chuckle a little and smile back. "I appreciate the thought."

"And I appreciate you indulging me," he said, quickly rifling through his own sheaf to ensure that everything was where it should have been. "All this is making me wonder, though; how did we somehow manage to never properly meet each other at Thors?"

"Well, it does have a massive campus," Emma pointed out, reflexively adjusting her glasses as she spoke. "I mean, there were wings that you just never set foot into unless you were doing a certain major, and it didn't help that most of the extracurricular clubs would scatter all over the place from semester to semester."

He rolled his eyes. "Something I unfortunately remember very well. Finding a steady home for the Chess Club turned out to be a pipe dream no matter how hard we all tried."

"Ah. The groups with niche interests usually did have that problem, didn't they?" she mused. "We were lucky, all things considered; the Literature Club and the main library were a match made in heaven, so that was where we always stayed."

"Hmph. Must have been nice."

"Again, you're not incorrect. It really is too bad we never got to meet back then, there were more than enough tables for us to have shared," she teased, and she was rewarded by a discreet cough and a quick tug at his collar.

"A-A little stability would have been greatly appreciated on our parts, I'll say that much. But more importantly - you used to be in the Literature Club?"

She nodded quickly in assent, her love of the written word coming to the fore in the blink of an eye. "That's right! I've loved reading all my life and I'd joined the one at my previous school, plus the one at Thors had such a good reputation..."

"Interesting. And what about now? Do you still find time to read every so often?" he asked as they started to walk, an odd note in his voice that Emma couldn't quite identify.

She turned to look at him curiously, his gaze firmly forward on the empty hallway ahead of them, and it was only then her eyes landed on the bulky, squared-off pocket of his suit jacket; a telltale silhouette that she herself was intimately familiar with.

Ah.

Well, then.

"Some might say so," Emma murmured, falling into step alongside him, her lips curling up into a playful grin as he hit the elevator's call button, "but in all fairness I think that might also depend on what your definition of 'every so often' happens to be."

Machias blinked twice before he slowly smiled at her again, not bothering to hide his amusement. It was a bigger smile this time, one that softened the edges and accentuated his eyes and oh, he had rather nice eyes, didn't he?

"I guess it would. That said, I'm quite sure that between now and getting you examined we can manage to figure that out," he said, a loud ding echoing in her ears as the doors opened.

"Hehe. I'd be disappointed if we couldn't. Now, shall we?"

"By all means. After you, Emma."

(Truth be told, her knee didn't really hurt anymore. But then again, it was always better to be safe than sorry, wasn't it?)