#actually so thrilled (sorry op) i think them fighting is so sexy

[seriouslyhooked]

The Bast Bad Idea (Part 2)

Three-part CS AU where Emma and Killian are doctors working at the same hospital (world without pandemic). They’ve yet to meet, but Emma has definitely seen the sexy Dr. Jones in her travels at Mist Haven Medical. It’s generally a bad idea to get involved with a colleague, but a little fantasizing never hurt… right? Inspired by the song ‘Bad Idea’ by Ariana Grande and a TV couple who set the bar for true love stories.

Part One Here. Story available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hello everyone! First and foremost, I want to start with a huge thank you to all of you who have reached out about this story. The response was so far beyond what I was expecting, but I am thrilled to know that all of you enjoy a CS Doctor AU as much as I do. As someone who grew up watching Grey’s Anatomy, it’s essentially engrained in my DNA to love a medical romance, and this story is one I have wanted to write for a long time. I’ve had more than a month away from writing thanks to my busy schedule, but finally my muse came to play and add a bit of fluff to this sweet short story. Chapter two picks up with a critical question – what was Dr. Jones going to propose to Dr. Swan…? Without further ado, here is our answer. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

“This might be presumptuous of me, love, but I find I’m helpless to resist. I was wondering – that is, I was hoping that perhaps, you and I, we could…”

His eyes strayed down to her lips, and Emma wet them absentmindedly. She heard a low growl, and realized it was coming from Killian. She shifted in her seat, turned on in a way she had never been before. Instinctively she moved closer, sensing the sinfully sweet current between them, like lightning just before it cracked across a summer sky. The instant attraction was breathtaking. It felt almost out of time and space.

“We could…” she continued, nudging him along and hoping he would elaborate. She wanted so badly for him to say aloud what she herself was wishing for.

Yet where Emma expected words, she was instead met with action, tantalizing and surprising, but inspiring something in her she never expected. Before she knew it, Emma was in Killian’s arms, aching for this moment, kissing him and knowing she was positively senseless. All that existed was this kiss, this touch. It was electrifying and invigorating, a blaze rushing through her blood stream that emboldened a part of her she’d always held back. Desire. That was what this was, and it was luscious and intoxicating.

Following his lead, Emma broke away from the kiss only to gasp for air as he crowded her body against the wall. The hardness of the cement blocks behind her, coupled with the heat and definition of Dr. Killian Jones was too much to handle. She arched into him, striving for contact, and reveling in the feel of his skin on hers. The only problem was these damn clothes between them. Never in her life had she been irritated at this doctor’s coat she’d worked so hard to earn. For years she studied and poured everything she was into medicine, all for the authority this coat portrayed, but she practically purred when Killian stripped hers off and tossed it to the ground. Pushing his off of his body in return made her mind race. The muscles of his chest and arms were driving her to distraction. Then they flexed, and she swallowed harshly, earning a deep, decadent chuckle from this man who drove her crazy.

“See something you like, Swan?”

God that cockiness. They’d never had any kind of real conversation before now, but the way he smiled spoke volumes. His air and his persona were dripping in assuredness. Emma used to think that she hated so much confidence, but when it came to Killian, she craved it something fierce. It was somewhat infuriating, the way his eyes shone with mischief and conceit, but it was also hotter than anything she’d ever known. Still, part of her would rather die than admit that aloud. She had her pride, no matter how wrapped up in this moment she may be.

“It’s hard to say,” she replied, her voice sounding out with a shredded silkiness that she’d never heard before. “I haven’t seen much of anything yet.”

“My apologies, love. Allow me to rectify the situation.”

Emma watched as this ridiculously attractive man purposefully teased her. With deft fingers he reached for the base of his scrub top, inching the material higher up his body. The trail of dark hair he revealed was evocative, but it held no candle the shape and tone of those abs underneath. Sweet Jesus, were those real? Emma bit back a groan at the sight, her lip pressed tight between her teeth. It took everything in her to keep her hands from reaching for him. She lay them flat on the wall behind her at her sides instead, but they balled into fists unconsciously as Killian eventually tossed the shirt away.

His black hair was mussed now, both from removing the scrubs with that always-present swagger, and from her fingers having run through it during their never-ending kisses. His eyes were dark navy blue, but still they shone with hunger and delight. His grin was a mix of charming and predatory, but instead of inciting a fight or flight response, Emma only wanted to surrender. This was a man who knew he was in complete control. He had hooked her, totally and beyond any shadow of doubt, and all she wanted was for him to have his way with her.

The curses he whispered while helping her shed her own scrubs were like prayers on high, a sweet song to her ears that only added to his allure. Killian’s eyes never strayed from her, but his reactions were so open and transparent. He hid nothing, allowing her a glimpse to the world inside, and it caused the power between them to shift. If Emma was being hunted, then she was also hunting in return, and Killian seemed ready to be caught.

“Emma, I -,”

His voice faded out, and she struggled to hear him. Instead, there was a blaring alarm. Was this a fire drill? Why had the light in the room gone hazy? Still, Emma heard herself whisper his name.

“Killian?”

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The screech of the sharp, incessant chiming by her ears wrenched Emma’s eyes open, and immediately she groaned in disappointment. All of that – every exquisite moment – was a dream. Ugh, of course it was! Because this was her life now: fantasizing about a hot trauma surgeon ceaselessly and wishing that her memories of him were more than mere imagination.  

“Damn it,” she muttered aloud, covering her eyes with her hand in frustration. With her vision blocked, Emma was more aware of the feeling that her body was wrapped up in her sheets. She’d obviously been tossing and turning through the night, restless in ways she rarely was before seeing Doctor Jones. These freaking dreams just felt so real, and they’d only gotten worse since officially meeting him.

That was three days ago now, but things had been chaotic in the meantime. The level four trauma that came in when they’d been formally introduced totally swamped the ER. Emma was called down for consult on multiple patients, needing to give life and death assessments and treatment plans for half a dozen people. While down there, Emma had the chance to see David and Killian in action. She was struck, even in the grips of adrenaline, by their cohesion and capability. They were cool and collected, battling odds that were dire to say the least, but they prevailed. Emma had worked for years to hone her craft, to heighten her skills, and to meet the moments of medicine that her work provided. But the energy in the ER had shifted, and she felt her own abilities elevated by the camaraderie and collectiveness of everyone in the hospital.

That shared experience only lasted a short while, for after initial inspections and emergency consults, Emma was quickly rerouted to the surgical wing. For 16 hours straight she worked to save the lives of four people, and through something that felt like magic, or maybe divine intervention, she was successful each and every time. That good fortune held, not only for her, but for all of her colleagues as well. The hospital had managed something next to impossible – they had saved every victim of the horrible accident, but the work had been backbreaking. When she’d finally scrubbed out of her last procedure, Emma admitted defeat, heading home and sleeping for twelve straight hours.

Her next shift was markedly slower, and Emma had the chance to see the progress of her post-op patients, and to connect with the others in her unit. It was critically important that the doctors, nurses, admins, tech teams, and other staff were all feeling strong and secure. Patients needed everyone working as a collective whole, and Emma took it upon herself to monitor that. It was unusual for a Doctor, especially one who wasn’t overseeing daily operations, but it mattered to Emma. Saving lives took so much more than her medical degree and steady hands. She needed each and every person in the cardiac wing to be successful, and she valued every one of them for what they brought to the team.

Unfortunately, while Emma’s day was slower and steadier, there was also a favorite element now lacking. She wasn’t too proud to admit that she’d willingly joined Ruby on the daily trip to the coffee cart. Actually, she’d been the one to page Ruby this time, earning more than a bit of teasing from her best friend, but Killian and David never showed. Only later, when Emma was at the tail end of her workday and helping with a consult in the ER, did she learn why.

“He was here for sixty-eight straight hours,” David said bluntly, after having confirmed his diagnosis for a patient presenting with a blood circulation issue.

“I’m sorry?” Emma asked, confused for a moment at David’s turn of topic.

“Killian,” David said, prompting Emma’s face to heat. Here she was, hoping it wasn’t totally obvious that she was looking for a man she hardly knew beyond imaginings, but David had seen through her in a matter of moments.

“Oh, um – that’s, well that’s… crazy. Sixty-eight hours?” That beat even her record, and she’d been called a workaholic on more than one occasion.

“Mhmm. We were on the end of a twelve-hour shift when the call came in and he stayed, until every last patient in the trauma department was seen and attended to. I left for eight hours and was dead to the world the entire time. Still felt laggy when coming back. Meanwhile, he caught maybe four hours sleep total interspersed between rounds, crashing in on call rooms. You’d never know though. He was totally unfazed. Brilliant as ever. It was like being back in the field again.”

“Seriously?” Emma asked, amazed at that. She was no stranger to long shifts, but to work that hard for that long was a herculean feat. Somehow, though, she wasn’t surprised to hear Killian had pulled it off.

“Yup. I had to force him to go back to his hotel. Actually, Regina had to. I tried, but until the Chief said something, he wouldn’t budge. She had to spew all sorts of protocol and legal jargon at him to get him to go. Even then, I could tell he was debating whether to stay or not.”

“He has a real connection with his patients,” Emma commented, vocalizing a fact she’d ascertained by watching him in action. Killian cared deeply, and while his main job may be all about stemming the flow of crisis, and bouncing around from one case to the next just to keep people holding on, he kept track of all those he helped, and invested in each patient no matter what.

“Maybe. I think it had more to do with the fact that it was only eight am and you wouldn’t be at the coffee stand yet.”

Before Emma could respond, David was paged for something else. He’d left her with a polite goodbye, but also a knowing smile. Another time, Emma might have tried to fake that she wasn’t interested or deny that there was something between her and Killian, but instead she was too busy fixating on what she’d just heard. Emma carried David’s assessment around with her for the rest of the day, well after leaving the hospital and heading home. She spent the night wondering if what David said was true. Was Killian as interested in her as she was in him?

“This might be presumptuous of me, love, but I find I’m helpless to resist. I was wondering – that is, I was hoping that perhaps, you and I, we could…”

“We could what?” she whispered, getting out of her car, heading inside to her next shift. “What was he going to ask me?”

“Did you say something, Emma?”

Emma jumped at the unexpected question, senses on high alert as she stood before the elevator in the parking garage. When she found Mary Margaret only a few feet from her, and clearly the orator of the previous question, Emma relaxed slightly. She tried her best not to show her embarrassment, but it was difficult. Now she was talking to herself? Jeez, she was truly losing it at this point.

“Oh, uh, nothing. How are you today?” she asked her friend. Mary Margaret smiled widely. Her excitement was palpable, filling up the elevator car as the two of them stepped inside.

“I’m great! Just eager to get to work.”

“Any interesting cases on the schedule?”

“Oh, uh, sure, there’s a few, I guess. Well really most of my day is going to be in consult with the Chief’s office.”

“Wait a second, you have to spend a prolonged period of time with the Evil Queen and you are smiling? Who are you and what have you done with Mary Margaret?” Her friend now looked flustered, clearly trying to grasp at an explanation and then it dawned on Emma. “This is about David isn’t it?”

“David?” Mary Margaret asked, her pitch higher than it had been just moments ago. Emma laughed at her friend’s terrible play acting. Trying to pretend that this wasn’t about David Nolan was a lost cause. Eventually Mary Margaret realized that, and she sighed, releasing the tension in her shoulders as she exhaled. “Okay, yes, I am seeing Dr. Nolan today.”

“Let me guess, he’s also going to be at the admin meetings.”

“They’re about coordinating long term therapies better with our emergency protocols and treatments. So yes, the head of the ER is likely to make an appearance.”

“I see,” Emma said, biting back a smirk so as not to make Mary Margaret too uncomfortable. In the end though her curiosity won out, and she had to ask. “So, any movement there?”

“Movement?”

“Has he asked you out yet?”

“Not exactly.” Emma waited for her friend to explain herself. Mary Margaret held off for a few seconds before blurting out the truth. “I actually asked him.”

“Really?” Emma was shocked. Not because she thought any less of Mary Margaret. In fact, quite the opposite. She was proud of Mary Margaret for going for what she wanted. She just had never ever seen Mary Margaret step outside of a comfort zone like that, and certainly not with a hospital colleague. “Good for you. And he obviously said yes.”

“Why is it obvious?” Emma rolled her eyes, but in a teasing way.

“Come on, you know you two were making heart eyes at each other the other day. There was a definite spark. We all saw it.”

“I’m honestly surprised you noticed since you had your own, what did you just call them? ‘Heart eyes’? Well, you definitely had heart eyes for a certain trauma surgeon.”

Now it was Emma’s turn to blush, and what perfect timing, because the elevator doors had just opened to the lobby. They exited the quiet of the elevator to a hustle and bustle found only at a top tier hospital. It felt like a swarm of people, buzzing every which way, on their own individual paths.

“David and I going to dinner tomorrow,” Mary Margaret said quietly, looking around and finding no eavesdropping colleagues. When the coast was clear, she smiled, looking back at Emma with excitement all over her face. “That’s all I know though. I may have asked him out, but he made it very clear he had plans for how our first date was going to be.”

“I have a good feeling about this guy,” Emma said, referring to David. She had known Mary Margaret for a long time, and she knew how much her friend wished for a real and solid love in her life. Few people desired and deserved that kind of connection like Mary Margaret, and for Emma, there was a real satisfaction in seeing her friend’s instant connection with a stand-up man. Based on past experience, there weren’t too many of those to go around.

“Which one?” Mary Margaret asked. Emma stammered something non-committal out, causing her friend to laugh once more. “And that right there is all the answer I need. See you later, Emma. Oh, and when you see Killian again, just go for it. Believe me, it’s so much better than waiting and wondering.”

With that, Mary Margaret headed towards the wing of the hospital where the Chief and her admins worked. At the same time, Emma turned her attention to the cardiac unit.  She had a ways to go to get there, but while still in the main entrance of the hospital she was stopped short by a gruff, and somewhat uncertain voice.

“Excuse me, Doctor Swan?”

“Yes?” Emma replied, looking to the young man who approached her. Taking in his features, she realized she knew him peripherally. He was one of the new interns cycling through the hospital this year, but he hadn’t worked in the cardio wing or in a surgical capacity. Taking in his lanyard, which bore his ID card over plain clothes, she saw he was an ER intern. Interesting. “Can I help you?”

“This is for you.” The young man offered her a paper box. Emma accepted, thoroughly confused before the intern elaborated. “Curtesy of Doctor Jones.”

“Oh,” Emma said, suddenly incredibly interested. Unable to resist, she opened the box. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but what she found made her smile widely. “These are flowers. Paper flowers.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m not entirely sure of the significance, but Doctor Jones told me there is a note inside as well. He wanted me to be sure to mention that.”

Emma was more than excited to read what this astonishing man would write to her, but something the intern said reminded her of the awkwardness of this situation. Had Killian used his authority over the interns to have this delivered? It wasn’t a crazy assumption. Many of the residents and attendings here saw interns as the low rungs on the ladder. They were meant to be learning and training, but often they were sent on coffee runs and foolish errands. Emma never believed in that though. She found it unkind and unnecessary.

“To be honest, it was hard to convince Doctor Jones to let me bring these,” the intern said, perplexing Emma further while eerily reading her mind. “I had to offer about a half dozen times. My shift was ending, you see, and I’ve been looking for a way to thank Doctor Jones since he got here. You know he created extra hours in the ER skills lab? He’s working with first years too. We get very little access usually, because the third years are prepping for exams and stuff, but he convinced Doctor Nolan to extend the hours. He’s even hosting classes himself. Cool right?”

“Very cool,” Emma said with a nod, and another smile. She breathed out a sigh of relief, genuinely happy to realize this man she’d been thinking of was good to others. It also made accepting this thoughtful gift so much easier.

From there, Caleb said goodbye, heading out for whatever interns did with down time these days. Oh, who was she kidding? Sleeping. That’s what she’d done, and no doubt that was what all interns still wanted most of all. Emma though, felt more awake now than she had in a long while. She found a quiet corner in one of the corridors leading to the cardio unit and took a seat, opening the box away from prying eyes.

Inside the box there were six different types of what looked like origami flowers. They were beautiful and delicate, and she wondered where he could have bought them. Only when she opened the note did she realize the truth.

Emma,

As you know, I’ve been away for quite a while, out in the field in a completely different world. In the desert there’s not really that much to do, except survive and keep as many of your people as well as you can. The downtime is long and hot and quiet. I picked up these tricks from a fellow soldier. It kept my hands at the ready and my mind clear, and there’s an honest beauty in them that reminds me of you. 

Truth be told, there’s a flower for each time I’ve tried to catch you at the coffee cart since our meeting. Clearly my missions have been unsuccessful, so this calls for a change in tactics…

Emma smiled at the thoughtfulness and felt the pull of butterflies low in her chest.  He thought she was beautiful, and he said it without fear. Had a man ever said so much? Had it ever mattered? Certainly not like it did now. Reading on, Emma laughed at the lightheartedness of the note and the bit of cheeky humor that accompanied it. His easygoing candor and transparency enchanted her, drawing her in even more than she already was. Then she memorized the time and place he suggested that they meet at the bottom of the page, knowing nothing and no one was going to keep her from this meeting.

Only after reading through his handwritten thoughts three or four times did she realize an added layer of perfection: these flowers weren’t just handmade and crafted with intention. They were also safe for her to take with her to her ward of the hospital. Being in and out of the ICU and cardiac units, Emma couldn’t bring real flowers into her offices without putting some patients at risk, but she could have these. From within the box she selected a bright yellow blossom, beautiful and intricate and folded to perfection. Wordlessly she tucked it away in her pocket. The others were deposited for safe keeping in her office as soon as she arrived back in the East Wing, and displayed on her windowsill, brightening the space.

The hours between the start of her shift and the time she was meant to meet Killian passed by slowly. Her rounds usually distracted her, but not today. While she still gave all due attention to her patients, Emma had that sense in the back of her mind that this afternoon would bring so much more to the forefront. The promise of seeing him again kept her heart pattering faster than it should be, and by the time the clock was minutes from their meeting, she was positively bursting with anticipation.

“Okay, usually I would give you a hard time and pretend to tag along, but even I can’t mess with a smile like that.” Ruby’s words snapped Emma’s focus back to the hallway where she was standing, pretending to read a chart. As she looked to her friend, however, she would never be able to recall what was on the screen in front of her. Ruby grinned when their eyes met. “He gave you the flowers, didn’t he?”

“You knew?” Emma asked and Ruby nodded.

“Yup. Ran into him at the cart a couple of times. He was really starting to piss off the kiosk guy with all his loitering. Had to give him a hundred dollars just to shut him up.”

“He didn’t!”

“No, I wouldn’t let him. I told Boris to shut it unless he wanted a hospital wide nurses strike. Guy knows better than to cross me. He just acts tough for clout.” Emma laughed, knowing her friend truly ran this place in most ways. But then the apprehension of the moment caught up to her again, and Emma’s brow furrowed in worry. “Oh no you don’t. No doubting this, Ems. I’ve vetted this guy. Run all the background, checked all the sources. He’s a good one, a one in a million, needle in a haystack, diamond in the rough kind of man. And, to top it all off, he’s crazy about you.”

“You think?” Emma asked and Ruby nodded.

“I know, but that’s all I’m saying. Let Killian speak for himself, okay? And, even though it’s hard, try and trust this.”

“I think I already do,” Emma whispered. “Trust him, I mean. But that’s crazy, right?”

“Love tends to be that way.”

“Ruby.”

“Emma,” her friend parroted, taking her hand and squeezing gently. “Just go for it. Go for it and see for yourself.”

With a nod, and the validation that she needed to hear from a trusted friend, Emma headed off. It felt natural and expected to make her way towards the center of the hospital once more. This time though, she passed the coffee cart, with only a fleeting glance. Killian wasn’t meeting her there today. In fact, she wasn’t entirely sure where they were meeting. She followed the directions he’d given her, up a few more flights of stairs and through the wing with pediatric patients and newborns. She had been here many times before, for consults and comfort. It was a draw here in the hospital – the cuteness of babies just starting their journeys in the new world. Emma looked at them today, noticing the vibrancy inside the nursery, but didn’t linger. Instead, she followed the last of the route that Killian had given her and ended up somewhere she’d never been before. A place that must have just finished being renovated.

“Wow,” Emma whispered, walking into the sunlight on the open terrace.

With the glass surroundings and the plant life everywhere, this place was beautiful. There were pergolas and hanging vines, topiaries and flowering plants, daffodils and tulips, all breathing in the spring. It felt like a park, floating in the air, with the sounds of the city barely audible below. Emma could imagine the kids and the families who would come here someday. She hoped it would be a space for them to find some peace and happiness while staying in this unfamiliar and often stressful place. Hospitals were rarely any fun for patients, necessary as they may be, but this space was beautiful enough to distract from that.

“You made it, love.” The deep rumble of that familiar voice sent a shiver through Emma’s whole body. She cast a glance over her shoulder, finding Killian, leaning against the stone façade of the building behind them. In his hands were two coffees, and as he moved towards her, he offered her one with a boyish smile. “This is for you. Didn’t want you missing a routine caffeine fix for my sake.”

“Thank you,” Emma said automatically, feeling his fingers brush across hers, sending a zing of awareness through her. Her eyes flashed up to his, and she knew he felt it too. Suddenly she had no want or need for this coffee. She cleared her throat slightly before continuing on. “Where exactly are we? And how, might I ask, does the new guy know about it before I do?”

“It’s the Hubbard Family Wellness Gardens, gifted by one of the hospital’s most loyal benefactors” he said, full of knowledge. Emma was shocked that he actually knew what this place would be but then he smiled, gesturing to the plaque bearing that information. She bit back a laugh. “And as for how I found it, that’s easy. I never leave well enough alone, and I’m curious by nature. I’ve been nearly everywhere in the hospital now, but this place seemed the best for what comes next.”

“What comes next?” Emma asked, her voice hitching up as she repeated the words.

“Aye,” Killian murmured, his tone dipping sensually low. She swallowed harshly as he entered into her space, and he tracked the motion. She felt the heat of his closeness, and caught his scent in the air, clean, and male, and with a hint of spice.

“I’m afraid I didn’t think this through,” he said, close enough to kiss her. God, how she wished he would kiss her. Emma vocalized her first thought.

“Really? I did. Like a lot.”

His smirk told her she’d said that aloud even though she never meant to, but before she could react, he took hold of her cup once more.

“I meant these,” he gestured to the coffee in her hand. Oh, right. “May I, love?”

Emma nodded, and shakily let go of the cup she forgot she was holding. With deft hands, Killian  placed their drinks back on a table beside them with far more poise than she could muster at the moment. When that was done, he stepped towards her again, looking at her with a glint in his blue eyes that made her heart skip. His hands came to her body, one to her hip, the other to cup her cheek. The rightness washed over her, and so did the realization that none of her dreams could actually prepare her for real intimacy with Killian Jones.

“Last time we spoke I intended to ask you something. Do you remember?”

“Yes, I remember,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from wanting this so badly. Without thinking, she wet her lips, and he caught the action, letting out a groan that mixed pain with passion and pleasure. Then he cursed, a totally British ‘bloody hell’ falling past his lips before dipping his mouth to hers and giving them both a taste of temptation.

The kiss was… beyond incredible, but Emma was so deep in it she had no ability to comprehend anything at all. She was consumed with the moment, arching against Killian, feeling the silky strands of his dark hair and the scruff of his beard. His kiss was assured and passionate, dominant and indulgent all at once. She succumbed to the sensations, and let the rightness surge within her, not caring at all that they were outside or at work or that they’d just met. Instinct took over, and her gut, which Emma had always trusted, was telling her that this man was even more than she imagined, and someone she should choose to let in.

Pulling back from the kiss, Emma and Killian stayed close, and Emma took stock of all the places they were touching. His hold on her was firm but caring, like she was precious, and he wouldn’t let her slip away. In his eyes she saw so much emotion, and again she was struck by his transparency and trust. He wasn’t shying away from her or the moment. He was in the depths of desire with her, and their kiss, that perfect, sexy as all hell kiss, had left him tongue tied. The quiet wasn’t awkward, but assuring, and Emma felt secure here, safe even, while also being filled with more unknown wonder than she’d ever been before. Like someone at the start of a glorious adventure, she took a next step born of passion and hope.

“I’m off at six tonight… so, you want to pick me up at seven thirty?” she asked, referencing a date he hadn’t actually asked her out on. She feigned ignorance even though she could read him like a book. “Unless you were going to ask me something else…”

His hold on her tightened, and he shook his head immediately. She was right. He wanted a date – and she saw no reason to wait when she wanted one just as badly. She grinned at him, loving how the tables had turned. This time he swallowed harshly, and she was oh so tempted to kiss him again and see if he’d stay shy or rise to her challenge.

“It’s a date, Swan,” he said dazedly. 

Emma hummed out her agreement, going in for one last fleeting kiss. But where she meant to only tease, he took the reins again, kissing her senseless and leaving her breathless when they finally broke apart. Only when her pager beeped with an incoming call did they end their inevitable interlude, and as they did, Emma felt a pang of longing, wishing this moment could last so much longer than this.

“Tonight, love,” he whispered, running his thumb against her lips. “Far away as it may seem, I promise the wait will be worth it.”

“Good,” she replied, nipping his thumb ever so softly, and bringing the fire back in his eyes, before taking a step back. And with that, and just enough presence of mind to grab her coffee, Emma headed off, back through the hospital to the work that awaited her, knowing she could and would get through anything today for the promise of tonight.

Post-Note: Ah!! Finally!! I got the words on the page!! I did the thing!! I wrote the story!! And honestly, it’s such a relief. It felt, at some points, like I may never get this chapter written, but finally today it came. I know many of you were waiting, and I cherished every comment and review and message along the way. I hope all of you who wrote me, and those who read along with chapter one, all enjoy this installation. I write these stories for me and to brighten my world ever so slightly, but also in the hopes that they’ll spark joy for others too. In a time like this, a little joy goes an awful long way. Anyway, thank you all for reading, sending you the best, and hope you’ll join me next time for the final chapter of this CS AU! xE

[grrlinthefireplace]

Hey so I’ve been seeing you post a lot about La Casa de Papel recently. What exactly is it? It looks kinda interesting.

Thank you so much for asking!

I am delighted beyond reason to have the opportunity to tell you - and by extension the entire world - why this show has cleared my skin, watered my crops, and legitimately healed my soul after this particularly soul-crushing season of Grimdark White Man Television almost broke me as a human being.

I will attempt to keep this as spoiler-free as I possibly can, because this is a show that should be experienced in the moment, but in a nutshell, La Casa de Papel is a heist show set in present-day Madrid which follows both a found family of thieves who rob the Royal Mint of Spain, and the law enforcement officials on the outside who are chasing them.

If that is enough for you, go right to your TV or computer, fire up the ol’ Netflix, and don’t waste any more time.

If, however, you need a little more, here are the top five things I flail about to every single person in my life to convince them they need to start watching this show like immediately and then come back and tell me all about it.

For visual flair, we’ll intersperse them with some gifs of ladies, because I know my audience.

5. character driving plot > plot driving character.

You know that infuriating thing lazy TV writers do where, in order to to hurry up and get to the big explosion or battle scene or dragon attack or whatever, which is the only bit they really care about, they handwave away the whole concept of motivation and make some character do something that any halfway-attentive viewer will immediately clock that they would never actually do?

There is none of that bullshit here.

In its simplest form, the plot of La Casa de Papel is as follows: a brilliant criminal mastermind devises a heist which cannot possibly go wrong, and then we proceed to watch all the ways in which it goes wrong.

This is a fantastic setup for an action story, made even more breathlessly exciting by strategic use of my favorite heist movie plot device (as perfected by Ocean’s Eleven): namely, “scene where it looks like our crime heroes have been outsmarted and are now threatened by a completely unforeseen disaster” immediately followed by “flashback to the team prepping for the heist where we learn that of course they prepared for this exact scenario.”

But from time to time, things do actually go wrong (as they must, or else there would be no story); and, when they do, it is never because you can tell a writer just wanted to write a scene where bullets go flying, and didn’t care how he got there. These characters are so clear, their behavior so consistent, that when gasp-worthy plot twists happen, they happen because of course that character, in this exact scenario, would do that exact thing.

I’m telling you, I came to this show for a ship (more on that in a minute) and I stayed for a swooning, heart-eyes writer crush on the impeccably-designed plot structure and characterization.

4. High stakes, low gore.

Tone-wise, on a sliding scale of Heist Film Intensity where a really fluffy episode of Leverage is a 1, Reservoir Dogs is a 10, and the Ocean’s franchise is somewhere in the 3-4 range, I would place La Casa at a 5 or a 6, which is perfect for me. I love action, suspense, drama and adventure, but I hate gratuitous violence (especially when it’s pointless and masturbatory and doesn’t contribute anything to the plot) and have a very low tolerance for blood and gore. So I kept waiting for the story to eventually take a hard left turn into Tarantino Land, until eventually it was all just one huge pile of dead bodies, and was genuinely surprised when it didn’t.

This is how I learned just how badly my brain has been fucked up by lazy showrunners who think shock deaths are the only way to raise stakes. During the first season of this show, before I had figured out that it was a Flawless Gem of Television Which So Far Has Not Once Disappointed Me, there were probably a dozen moments where I was absolutely convinced that some character was about to be gruesomely killed for shock value … and I was wrong every single time.

Reader, it was fucking wild.

Every single time I was convinced that person A was going to shoot person B in the head because blah blah maximum angst over here in this part of the story and then it will motivate person C to do this other thing, the show did the hard work of finding a smarter, more unexpected direction to take that character’s story. That means that when deaths do come along - and there are a couple - they feel genuinely earned, and they matter deeply to the story and to us.

3. I would die for these women.

This show loves women. Like it truly, authentically, uncompromisingly loves women in all our fucked-up messy glorious complexity. There are no “types” or cliches here; no one is forced to be only one thing. Fuck your one-dimensional Strong Female Characters, lazy writers.

For one thing, on many shows you might be lucky if you get maybe one mom who is given a personality and a story outside of motherhood. Often, on shows written by men, the fact of her motherhood diminishes her strength or her agency. On this show, nearly every one of the central female characters is both a mom and an action hero simultaneously. Seriously. By season 3 there are four different battle moms. They’re all different, they’re not all on the same side, they have different perspectives, and their role as mother impacts the story differently, but that’s the joy of having a whole lot of different kinds of women - no one has to be everything to everyone.

These women are complicated. They laugh, they cry, they crack dirty jokes, they get laid, they have babies, they fight, they make mistakes, they fall in love, they grow. Men pull sexist shit and they shut it the fuck down. Some of them have love stories, some of them don’t, but they are never defined by or triangulated around relationships with men. They get to have relationships with each other. All of them are excellent at their jobs.

Tokyo is the kind of hot mess antihero protagonist we’ve been watching middle-aged white men play for decades.

Allison is such a realistic teenage girl it’s genuinely painful to watch.

Monica has one of the best arcs I’ve ever seen on television, this is not a drill.

Alicia is terrifying. (A pregnant black ops interrogator! ON WHAT OTHER FUCKING SHOW!?!??)

Nairobi is unlike any other character you’ve seen on TV before; she’s got a little bit of Parker from Leverage, a little bit of Raven Reyes from The 100, but she’s entirely her own creature and you will fall in love with her instantly.

And Raquel. Oh, my love, my angel, my hero, Inspector Raquel Murillo. Love of my goddamn life. A fierce, kickass hostage negotiator swimming upstream against a tide of workplace misogyny who sometimes has to make the frustrating little male-appeasing compromises we all have to make to get through the workday. A beautiful, sexy, powerful heroine over 40 whose femininity isn’t diminished based on some bullshit notion that, for example, pairing your tough-bitch suit and gun holster with red toenails and a lacy blouse detracts from your strength. A loving mom and daughter who has to juggle raising a small child and caring for an aging parent with the stress of, you know, trying to stop the biggest robbery in the history of Spain. A domestic violence survivor (TW for those who need it; nothing is ever shown onscreen, but it’s discussed several times) who is given the space to discuss the things that have happened to her and how she has worked through them with such dignity, accuracy and respect that you can tell the writers did their homework.

This is a show where you can tell there are women in the writers’ room.

2. The Professor and Raquel. I don’t want to spoil a single thing for you here except to say that I myself was lured into this show by the promise of electric sexual chemistry between a criminal mastermind and the police inspector hunting him down, and my God I was not disappointed.

1. Love.

This show came into my life at a period where I was so weary of cynicism on television - so fucking furious at showrunners who dangle hope in front of us and then crush it, who only care about building anything if they can tear it down later, who treat love and fun and joy and hope and family and happiness like they’re intellectually lesser than grimdark nihilism with no soul - that I was honestly kind of broken by it. I was just so. fucking. tired. Tired of “the way we show this heroine is strong is to kill off her love interest.” Tired of “sorry but all this rape and murder is NECESSARY because of REALISM” (particularly rich when coming from shows featuring evil A.I.’s or dragons and ice zombies). Tired of getting invested in relationships - whether ships or friends or found families - only to realize that the show I was watching was always going to sacrifice character to force plot mechanics into place, and those relationships were never going to get the kind of care and focus I wanted them to get.

But that is not this show.

The single most revolutionary thing, to me, about La Casa de Papel - the thing that sets it apart from every other rollercoaster action thrill ride on television - is that every single thread of the plot is tied to love.

Every.

Single.

One.

Love of all different shapes and sizes - parents and children, friendships, doomed crushes (straight and queer), toxic exes, blossoming romances, siblings - and over it all, a deep, deep love for humanity.

The thing I said before, about how when things go wrong they go wrong in character-driven ways? It’s this. Love is why everything on this show happens. Love is what makes children want to live up to their parents and what makes parents fight to leave a better world for their children. Love is why deaths have stakes. Love is why we spend so much screentime lingering on small moments another show might ignore, like all the thieves at heist camp sitting down every night to have dinner together and argue about paella techniques. Love is what causes chaos in the middle of the heist; when there’s one person in the room you care about more than the others, you can get distracted and take your eye off the ball. Love is how your enemies can get to you, by leveraging or blackmailing the people who matter most, knowing that you’ll crack if they’re in danger. Love, gone wrong, causes toxic men to develop possessive and controlling behavior towards women. Love is how the Professor gets the idea for the heist in the first place. The plan is flawless on paper, but it doesn’t account for the human variable, and over and over again we see that relationships and connection and sex and family and love cause people to behave in unpredictable ways and throw the whole plan into chaos, which is what makes for a dynamic and compelling story.

How refreshing to see a show simply refuse to grant the oft-repeated premise that a show cannot have both high-octane thrills, and a big soft squishy heart, at the same time.

ANYWAY, I’VE TAKEN UP ENOUGH OF YOUR VALUABLE TV-WATCHING TIME, GO JUMP ON BOARD THIS TRAIN AND COME SCREAM ABOUT IDEALISTIC SPANISH ROBIN HOODS WITH ME, AND LET THE GOOD SHIP SERQUEL INTO YOUR LIFE, YOU WON’T BE SORRY

THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK