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Fic: Baby, It's Cold Outside
Title: Baby, It's Cold Outside
Author: Erin (erinm_4600)
Characters, Pairing: Emma and Neal
Rating: PG
Summary: After a big snowstorm, Emma and Neal are trapped with no place to go for at least the next 48 hours. (AU)
Warning: summary prompt from jungle_ride *Written for Our Story Begins... (part 2) at onceuponaland
Disclaimer: The original characters belong to Disney and their respective actors. The OCs are mine.
Emma stared out the window with a frown, rubbing her hands together and constantly moving as she watched the snow fall. The brunt of the storm had finally passed, leaving feet upon feet of snow on the streets below. Hearing the clinking of cups coming from behind her, Emma let out a breath and straightened, before turning back toward the small apartment.
"Still coming down," she said, giving a shrug to Neal, who was standing in the kitchen, trying to prepare two large mugs of hot chocolate as his hands shook. It didn't take too many steps for Emma to get from the window to the counter, and she let out a deep breath as she leaned against the blue tiles. "Not a power truck in sight."
"It's a good thing the stove doesn't need electricity," Neal said, holding his breath as he poured the warm liquid out of the small saucepan. "We just might be able to salvage everything in the fridge," he added with a smirk. Not that there was a lot in there, of course, but if they didn't get power back by nightfall, half their grocery budget for the month would end up in the trash.
"You just want me fat," Emma scoffed, stepping around him and pinching Neal's side as she passed. Moving was definitely warmer than standing still. Opening the door of the large and currently-unpowered appliance, Emma took a look at what was at risk and grumbled.
The power had gone out at some point in the evening and the last check of the cellphone let them know it was roughly four in the afternoon. Unfortunately, the batteries in both phones were getting dangerously low. Not that it mattered, of course, because there was no one checking on them. Emma and Neal had only each other, and that was just enough for them.
"C'mon," Neal ordered, putting an arm around Emma's shoulder and pulling her out of the kitchen. "Blankets." The power being out had also taken out the heaters, so the only warmth they had was from the stovetop and a collection of blankets currently piled on the couch.
"Are you going to put on a scarf?" Emma asked him with a sarcastic bite, taking a moment to enjoy the view of him bending over as he shook the blankets out.
"Thinkin' about it," Neal replied, then waved for her to sit. He'd have put the gloves back on, but he didn't want to risk dropping the mug. Emma dropped down to the couch with a heavy sigh and held her mug up as Neal tucked another blanket around her.
"I feel like Wilford Brimley," she grumbled.
"You're much prettier than Wilford Brimley, Em," Neal replied, pressing a kiss to her temple as he put an arm around her, taking care to not spill his warm beverage on her. Once he had the blanket tucked in around himself, Neal moved the mug to the other hand and pulled it to his mouth.
Emma shifted against him and smiled, already feeling warmer thanks to his body heat. "What if we die here?" she asked, taking a sip from her mug. "We're six flights up."
Neal reached up to adjust the hat on his head and sighed. "They'll have to dig down to the street, first. And the doors open out, so they'll have to dig more." Giving Emma a silly smirk, he added: "And then get up six flights. It'll be summer and a hundred degrees and we'll be jerky."
"That's romantic," she groaned before taking another sip. Neal took another sip of his hot chocolate, then raised his eyebrows as he leaned to set the mug on the coffee table. "What?" Emma asked, knowing that that look couldn't bring anything but trouble.
"I just thought of another way for us to stay warm," Neal replied, wagging his eyebrows as the smirk spread across his face. He reached for her mug and set it next to his, then winked.
Emma leaned back as Neal leaned over her, fighting a smile as he moved to give her a kiss. "We've been talking about Wilford Brimley and human jerky," she told him. "And that's what turns you on?" Neal smirked as his fingers snaked under the hem of her sweater.
"Well, he is Wilford Brimley," Neal mumbled, leaning closer to press a kiss to Emma's neck.
"You are so weird," Emma replied, rolling her eyes and trying not to react to the feeling of his lips. "Oh, God, you stink." Neal shifted his weight and caught her lips, kissing Emma until both of them had to break for air. She didn't exactly smell like a rose, either, since cold showers weren't appealing to either of them during the past two days.
About five minutes into their makeout session, there was a loud pop, followed by a grinding hum. Neal pushed himself up and looked around, trying to figure out where the sound had come from. Emma tilted her head, glancing toward the heat register above the bedroom doorway.
After another pop, there was a burning smell that quickly permeated through the entire room as the heater kicked on. Neal made a face and looked down at Emma. "Power?" he guessed.
"Power!" Emma replied, pushing him up. "Oh," she started, scrambling out of the blanket cocoon and off the couch. "Hot water," she begged, finally making it to her feet and skidding around the open counter, and into the kitchen. With a flick of her wrist, the faucet was on and her fingers were ducking into the stream, testing the temperature.
Neal came up next to her, one hand resting on her hip and the other copying her motion with the water. As soon as the water started to heat up, the couple looked at each other and exclaimed: "Shower!" A moment later, they both bolted toward the bedroom, leaving the kitchen faucet running.
About thirty seconds passed before Emma hurried back into the kitchen, her shirt half-pulled over her head. She reached out and smacked the faucet off before pulling the rest of her shirt off and turning back to the bedroom.
Author: Erin (erinm_4600)
Characters, Pairing: Emma and Neal
Rating: PG
Summary: After a big snowstorm, Emma and Neal are trapped with no place to go for at least the next 48 hours. (AU)
Warning: summary prompt from jungle_ride *Written for Our Story Begins... (part 2) at onceuponaland
Disclaimer: The original characters belong to Disney and their respective actors. The OCs are mine.
Emma stared out the window with a frown, rubbing her hands together and constantly moving as she watched the snow fall. The brunt of the storm had finally passed, leaving feet upon feet of snow on the streets below. Hearing the clinking of cups coming from behind her, Emma let out a breath and straightened, before turning back toward the small apartment.
"Still coming down," she said, giving a shrug to Neal, who was standing in the kitchen, trying to prepare two large mugs of hot chocolate as his hands shook. It didn't take too many steps for Emma to get from the window to the counter, and she let out a deep breath as she leaned against the blue tiles. "Not a power truck in sight."
"It's a good thing the stove doesn't need electricity," Neal said, holding his breath as he poured the warm liquid out of the small saucepan. "We just might be able to salvage everything in the fridge," he added with a smirk. Not that there was a lot in there, of course, but if they didn't get power back by nightfall, half their grocery budget for the month would end up in the trash.
"You just want me fat," Emma scoffed, stepping around him and pinching Neal's side as she passed. Moving was definitely warmer than standing still. Opening the door of the large and currently-unpowered appliance, Emma took a look at what was at risk and grumbled.
The power had gone out at some point in the evening and the last check of the cellphone let them know it was roughly four in the afternoon. Unfortunately, the batteries in both phones were getting dangerously low. Not that it mattered, of course, because there was no one checking on them. Emma and Neal had only each other, and that was just enough for them.
"C'mon," Neal ordered, putting an arm around Emma's shoulder and pulling her out of the kitchen. "Blankets." The power being out had also taken out the heaters, so the only warmth they had was from the stovetop and a collection of blankets currently piled on the couch.
"Are you going to put on a scarf?" Emma asked him with a sarcastic bite, taking a moment to enjoy the view of him bending over as he shook the blankets out.
"Thinkin' about it," Neal replied, then waved for her to sit. He'd have put the gloves back on, but he didn't want to risk dropping the mug. Emma dropped down to the couch with a heavy sigh and held her mug up as Neal tucked another blanket around her.
"I feel like Wilford Brimley," she grumbled.
"You're much prettier than Wilford Brimley, Em," Neal replied, pressing a kiss to her temple as he put an arm around her, taking care to not spill his warm beverage on her. Once he had the blanket tucked in around himself, Neal moved the mug to the other hand and pulled it to his mouth.
Emma shifted against him and smiled, already feeling warmer thanks to his body heat. "What if we die here?" she asked, taking a sip from her mug. "We're six flights up."
Neal reached up to adjust the hat on his head and sighed. "They'll have to dig down to the street, first. And the doors open out, so they'll have to dig more." Giving Emma a silly smirk, he added: "And then get up six flights. It'll be summer and a hundred degrees and we'll be jerky."
"That's romantic," she groaned before taking another sip. Neal took another sip of his hot chocolate, then raised his eyebrows as he leaned to set the mug on the coffee table. "What?" Emma asked, knowing that that look couldn't bring anything but trouble.
"I just thought of another way for us to stay warm," Neal replied, wagging his eyebrows as the smirk spread across his face. He reached for her mug and set it next to his, then winked.
Emma leaned back as Neal leaned over her, fighting a smile as he moved to give her a kiss. "We've been talking about Wilford Brimley and human jerky," she told him. "And that's what turns you on?" Neal smirked as his fingers snaked under the hem of her sweater.
"Well, he is Wilford Brimley," Neal mumbled, leaning closer to press a kiss to Emma's neck.
"You are so weird," Emma replied, rolling her eyes and trying not to react to the feeling of his lips. "Oh, God, you stink." Neal shifted his weight and caught her lips, kissing Emma until both of them had to break for air. She didn't exactly smell like a rose, either, since cold showers weren't appealing to either of them during the past two days.
About five minutes into their makeout session, there was a loud pop, followed by a grinding hum. Neal pushed himself up and looked around, trying to figure out where the sound had come from. Emma tilted her head, glancing toward the heat register above the bedroom doorway.
After another pop, there was a burning smell that quickly permeated through the entire room as the heater kicked on. Neal made a face and looked down at Emma. "Power?" he guessed.
"Power!" Emma replied, pushing him up. "Oh," she started, scrambling out of the blanket cocoon and off the couch. "Hot water," she begged, finally making it to her feet and skidding around the open counter, and into the kitchen. With a flick of her wrist, the faucet was on and her fingers were ducking into the stream, testing the temperature.
Neal came up next to her, one hand resting on her hip and the other copying her motion with the water. As soon as the water started to heat up, the couple looked at each other and exclaimed: "Shower!" A moment later, they both bolted toward the bedroom, leaving the kitchen faucet running.
About thirty seconds passed before Emma hurried back into the kitchen, her shirt half-pulled over her head. She reached out and smacked the faucet off before pulling the rest of her shirt off and turning back to the bedroom.