A/N: The response for last week's chapter was so amazing, I don't know what to do. I'm so surprised and thankful that you enjoyed it (to one degree or another). Special shout-outs to JRB, those tweets almost killed me and you're too sweet to say what you did! And to f. wentworth, thank you for the constructive criticism, I agree with you on a lot of points and I hope I can improve more over time. To thoughtsthatfester, FunnyxLittlexBrains, and toffeema, your compliments make me keep writing as well!

Okay so I wrote this chapter almost right after the last one and I wrote it assuming you guys would hate chapter 3. In re-reading, I realize its not nearly as vivid as the last one but it was just meant to be something adorable to put you all at ease. Plus it has Harriet, so hopefully that balances out everything else. (I deeply apologize if my Harriet seems off, I don't seem to have a knack for writing her unfortunately.) Also, disclaimer, I wrote this before the ADORABLE Q&A between Knightley and Harriet, so their relationship in this is totally not up to date. But, c'est la vie!

Still own nada, except all the pain this ship has caused me.

If memory serves…

Harriet stepped into his office exactly 58 seconds after he requested she come over. He found himself sighing happily as he turned around in his chair, glad that he had made the right decision in hiring her. Well, in letting Emma approve of his hiring her. Or of playing a key role in Emma hiring her? It was all very confusing.

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Knightley," she questioned hesitantly, using his formal name which was only really demanded when it was his father.

"Yes, I wanted to catch you before you went to see Emma this morning. Feel free to come in, by the way," he gestured with his hands that he wasn't going to bite her. Harriet smiled nervously, nodded her head, and took about half a step farther into his office.

Honestly, the girl worked with Emma all day long and it was Knightley she was weary of? What had he done to put her on edge? Then again, he was the only person in the world to bring her idol down from her cloud of self-righteousness so it might be a bit understandable.

Trying to ease her worries, he stands up and walks around his desk, planting himself down on one of its corners so that they are facing each other. He's also shorter in this set up and he's heard that helps others feel more confident. Well, Emma's mentioned it before.

"I really appreciate you picking up coffee for Emma in the morning every day, Harriet. I know she probably doesn't thank you enough, or reimburse you, so I wanted you to know that we, the company, are very thankful for it."

She gives him a quizzical look over her carry out tray containing her and Emma's morning beverages. Alex thinks it must be because it seems an odd thing to make a big deal out of, especially because she has been doing it since she started working there. Then, Harriet's eyes get very wide and he realizes that they are most definitely not on the same page presently.

"Oh gosh, I never thought to ask for your coffee order. Shoot! I'm so sorry Mr. Knightley, you can write it down and I'll remember to pick it up every day from now on. Actually, don't trouble yourself, just say it aloud and I'll memorize it straight away. I'm promise I'm not incompetent it was just –"

"Harriet, breathe!" he practically shouts as he sees her rearing up to throw herself under more and more piles of self-doubt. "That's not what I meant at all, I promise. Thank you for the offer, but I just take my coffee from home," he emphasizes the point by picking up his Pemberley Digital travel mug.

"Oh. Well then, you're welcome. For everything, I mean, well not everything, obviously, but for the coffee. Emma's coffee. Miss Woodhouse's daily coffee, not yours. Not that I wouldn't buy yours if you drank it, but you don't. So," she takes a deep breath, without taking her eyes off Knightley (another Emma approved trick to confidence boosting).

"So, was that everything?" she questions, in her usual, perky assistant voice.

"No, not quite," Alex replies, pressing his hands together in front of himself. "I was just wondering, what was Emma's order exactly?"

Harriet blinks, before shifting her eyes back and forth as though worried. Seeming to accept that Alex's question is innocent enough (with Emma related things, you never really know. But Emma hadn't said anything about not sharing her coffee order with anyone, so it had to be safe right?), she recited the specific order from memory.

Many ingredients later - Alex was amazed the thing actually tasted like coffee after all that stuff - he heard the one thing he was listening out for.

"Ah, fantastic," he said, with his usual dry humour, "thanks, Harriet. Would you mind if I brought Miss Woodhouse her coffee this morning? I'll still give you full credit, of course."

Harriet again looked suspicious - if Emma really did want to improve Harriet she should work on how to hide that you're afraid your boss's business partner is about to poison her drink face - and replied with, "I'm not sure, Mr. Knightley. Emma's very specific about me handing her this coffee every morning."

He resists the urge to scoff. Alex wouldn't be surprised, in all honesty, if Emma got Harriet to hand her it in a specific way, saying 'Only on the left side Harriet, so I can continue writing my autobiography about how I saved the world from loneliness and despair'.

Instead of making the snarky comment, he simply says, "She won't mind for one day. You know Emma, she enjoys shaking things up from time to time. Keeps things fresh." He was actually citing her in this instance so Harriet really couldn't see any fault in it.

Nonetheless, she still did.

"I don't know, Mr. Knightley. She hasn't been quite herself lately…"

Which is why I should be the one bringing her the coffee, he thought. What he said was, "Well then a fresh face could do her some good," before he lightly pulled the cup from her grasp. Harriet pouted but seemed to accept that maybe she should let the two friends sort this out for themselves.

"Just please don't let her get angry with me."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Alex announced, picking up his travel mug and squeezing past Harriet to approach the office kitchen. "And thank you," he stage-whispered over his shoulder when he saw Harriet's face exit his office, eyes following his movements with confusion.

When Alex entered the kitchen, he scoffed at himself for going to such lengths for a friend. Then again, had the roles been reversed, she would have done the same for him.

After he finished his business in the kitchen, he left all evidence of his actions in the garbage and headed towards his partner's office.

As usual, Alex didn't knock when he walked through Emma's door. When she looked up at the sound of his footsteps to reprimand him, because she knew it was him from his gait, her remark died in her throat when she saw him with what must have been her coffee.

Alex found himself smirking slightly as he made his best friend blush for maybe the fifth time in their entire, year-spanning, friendship. It was only a few years back, when he noticed that the amount of times she did this to him were far greater than he to her, that he began keeping score. She was still winning but at least he was catching up.

"Hello, Alex," Emma said, drawing out both words. "For what do I owe the pleasure?"

He stares at her for a second. She had been purposely avoiding him the past week, making contact mostly through Harriet, and he hadn't got a good glimpse of her in a while.

As he expected, she looked, well, among other things that opened doors he was currently choosing to ignore, tired. He didn't think most people could tell, which Emma was using to her full advantage, but Alex knew the tell-tale signs.

The nail polish on her fingers was cracked, likely from biting them coupled with being too jittery to reapply the polish. Her hair, which was in some sort of a braid, had strands missing in such a way that suggested she had either done it very quickly or had given up half-way through a style that was much more extensive. And she kept doing this weird thing with her jaw that suggested she was putting her tongue on the roof of her mouth to avoid yawning.

"The business side of things got boring so I thought I'd take a break," he says, nonchalantly, as he moves to join her on her ridiculous bench. He is happy to see that the cameras are off, just in case he says something ridiculous in the moments that are about to follow.

"A break? Alex Knightley takes breaks? I thought those were reserved for us lesser beings who don't do math for enjoyment?"

He laughs at her easy teasing, and responds with his own, "Just because some of us are capable of doing math, doesn't mean we do nothing else," she tries to hide her smile. "No, breaks are important. Plus, Harriet had to go run an errand for me so I thought I'd drop off your coffee for her."

She eyes the drink in his hands like it might actually be a disguise for the Holy Grail. Alex has never been as thankful for Emma's blind trust in people as he is when she wraps her fingers happily around the cup.

"Why is my assistant doing jobs for you?" she manages to get out after taking her first sip. He waits patiently, and then lets any remorse for what he'd done fade; she was literally that tired.

"Business partners share things, Emma, now play nice," he joked, bumping his shoulder with hers. She rolls her eyes in response. "So how is that entrepreneur doing with his speech?" he asks, and Emma seems to get more tired as soon as the question is asked.

"Fine, he's fine. Everything is fine," but her normal bounciness isn't in it as she takes another sip of her drink.

"He didn't look that way the last time I saw him," Alex speculated, knowing he was adding to her stress level. "This speech is kind of the cornerstone of his entire career, his entire future."

"Yes, fully aware. That's why he's here. All the time. Every day. Always here," she sounds so exasperated he almost wants to wrap an arm around her and pull her close. But then she finishes with, "Thankfully, I'm me so that is no problem. Success is the most important thing!"

He shakes his head before seeing her downing the majority of her drink in a single gulp. "More important than sleep?" he ventures.

She blinks, moves to rub her hands under her eyes, and nods. "Sleep deprivation has been known to make people stronger, smarter even!" and this time she doesn't catch herself before she yawns.

"Yes, probably for CIA agents and Tibetan monks, not life-coaches," he says, moving closer to her, crowding her space. She yawns again, while speaking this time, and he politely asks her to repeat herself.

"What?"

"My job is just as important," she yawns, "as any other job," more yawning, "Mr. Knightley."

He moves his hand to rest on the small of her back to keep her from falling off the bench, while adding a "Mhm," under his breath.

"I'm ser-," yawning, "serious. And I need to help Calvin or," more yawning, "he won't finish his speech."

He adds a convincing "Ahh" before removing the now empty coffee cup from her hands and placing it on the desk in front of them. Now, with her hands free, Emma moves to lean on Alex's shoulder, her hand wrapping around his bicep.

"If he doesn't finish his speech," longest yawn yet, "he won't get his investors," quieter yawn, "no life improvement."

"Very true," Knightley offers, as he moves to pick her up off the bench. She doesn't resist and moves closer to his chest, her ears catching the steady drumming of his heart, which in other circumstances would have been beating much more rapidly.

"My coffee tasted funny," she seemed out of yawns now, choosing to punctuate her delivery by snuggling closer to Alex. "Did you make it in your awful, old coffee pot? I asked Harriet to order that extra shot of caffeine and I don't feel" a short pause where he's not exactly sure what she's doing, "more awake." He places her on the couch then, not failing to notice her look of utter disappointment.

"It wasn't coffee, it was herbal tea," he says, stretching his arms over his head, feeling a yawn coming on after listening to all of hers. "No caffeine, just Peach Tranquility," he chuckles at the silly name but recognizes that it lives up to it.

In response, Emma smiles a sleepy smile and mutters, "I hate you."

He laughs, remembering the last time Emma had ever had tea.

They had been out with her father, their families on vacation up north. The three of them had found a small tea shop with hundreds of different varieties, and each of them tried a different flavour. Both Alex and Emma's dad took a liking to theirs, but Emma seemed to regret hers before she even swallowed. That was the day he learned how she took her tea, since she hadn't taken even a sip since: two spoons of brown sugar. He remembered that distinctly from all their other excursions for a very simple reason: when they had been out and about looking for a place to warm up, Emma had been so cold that she demanded he give her his gloves. He scoffed at her, to which she'd replied that he either give them to her or hold her freezing hands. Needless to say, he gave her the gloves and shoved his own hands deep in his pockets as he tried, and failed, to hide a blush he attributed to the cold.

"You need to rest, my dear Emma."

"Just wake me up in an hour. No more," she said, snuggling into the couch cushions.

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, "Boss's orders." She laughs at this and her breathing starts slowing down.

Smiling at his own work, Alex felt provoked and thus leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead, hoping to send her off into a calm slumber.

Not quite as far gone as he expected, he was stunned when she pulled him back down so that she could kiss his lips. He'd drank almost all of her horrible, caffeinated beverage and yet he still feels dazed by the touch of her lips.

When she releases him, she says "'Night, Alex," and is out like a light.

As he leaves, legs still shaky, he closes Emma's usually open door, hoping to send a 'Do not disturb' message to the other employees.

He still can't think straight until he finds himself retracing his steps back to the kitchen to find out just what exactly was in that tea. And pray that they have more bags of it, especially for when Emma wakes up and wonders just what the hell she had been thinking.

I'm hoping this was okay, though I'm sure you expected something different. Next week's may actually be my favourite chapter so hold out! I'm also hoping to post a Christmas themed piece (separate from this story) next week, either on or after the big day, to add to this pitiful chapter. Let me know what you thought of this one though, it'll help me write the Christmas one faster haha