Fanfic: National Treasure (R)
Title: Five First Kisses
Pairing/Characters: Patrick Henry Gates, Emily Appleton; Patrick/Emily
Rating: R
Fandom: National Treasure
Word Count: 2,188
Spoilers: Not really
Summary: Five first kisses Patrick and Emily could have shared.
Notes/Warnings: I've seen lots of 'five plus one' fics out there and decided to try my hand at one. Beta by unicorn_catcher.
Five First Kisses
1. Old West
"Patrick Henry Gates, where are you?" Emily Appleton called as she stormed into the barn where the ranch hand was working. He remained quiet up in the hayloft, edging just far enough forward to see the petite young woman standing near the stalls, hands on her hips as she slowly turned in a circle. Patrick could just imagine the way her eyes were flashing as she looked for him. The moment he'd set eyes on her when he arrived at the ranch to ask for a job, he'd thought her the most beautiful girl in the world. Patrick must have made some noise when he moved, though, because she tilted her head back and looked right at him. "There you are!"
He offered a weak smile and a wave. "Hi, Miss Emily. What do you need?"
"We need to talk," she retorted firmly, climbing up the ladder to the hayloft.
Patrick remained where he was, holding onto the pitchfork with both hands. "If you're referring to me accidentally spotting you swimming in the creek just a few minutes ago..."
"Yes, exactly that," Emily replied, stepping lightly from the ladder to the hayloft. She walked over to him, tilting her head back as she drew closer.
He swallowed, his jeans beginning to feel snug in front as he tried hard not to remember the way she'd looked as she walked from the creek to her clothes piled on the shore, completely nude and utterly gorgeous. "It won't happen again, I promise, Miss Emily. Consider it forgotten."
"I don't want you to forget it, Patrick," she told him, reaching out to cover his hands on the pitchfork.
Blinking, he stared down at her, his jeans feeling even tighter and his heart skipping a beat. "You don’t? Why?"
"I knew you were there," Emily explained, sliding one hand up to his chest, resting over his now-pounding heart. "I wanted you to see me."
Patrick lost his grip on the pitchfork then, the implement falling soundlessly into the hay between them. "You did?"
Nodding, she stretched up on tiptoe to brush her lips across his chin. "I wanted you to want me."
"I always have," he admitted huskily, his hands moving to circle her waist automatically. "Ever since I first saw you."
Smiling, she drew his head down to hers for a hungry kiss. When she nudged his hand up to cover one breast, he realized she hadn't completely dressed after her swim in the creek. Groaning, he deepened the kiss and tumbled them into the hay. He'd known from the moment they met that he'd never be able to resist her.
2. Superpowers
"Spitfire! Look out!" The superheroine turned in time to watch as Windstorm plowed into the henchman she hadn't even noticed had been behind her.
Hovering in the air so her eyes were level with his, she glared at him. "I don't need rescuing. I'm not a damsel in distress."
"Sure looked like it to me," he retorted, gray eyes narrowing behind his mask.
Tossing her blonde head, she replied, "I had it handled."
"Sure you did." He looked around just then and so did she. They were surrounded by henchmen. "We'll settle this later."
Working together, they disposed of the henchmen, and then the supervillian. Once they were all in custody, the two of them slipped away to change out of their costumes and become regular citizens once more. "Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean you have to 'rescue' me, Patrick."
"It wasn't a 'rescue' Emily," he told her, exasperated. "It was watching your back, as a partner."
She poked a finger into his chest, glaring up at him. "We're not partners."
"We could be," he replied, something unfamiliar glinting behind his glasses.
Before she could react, he leaned down to kiss her, his arms sliding around her waist. Quite without meaning to, her arms crept around his neck. She'd kissed her share of men, but this kiss was different. She liked it.
3. Pirates
Professor Patrick Gates wasn't sure what to think of Captain Emily Appleton of the pirate ship Cíbola. She strode the decks of her ship with confidence, the members of her crew treating her with respect even though most of them towered over her. Patrick himself was taller than her, but he was an academic, not a sailor, so he didn't really count. For the most part, Emily left him alone to work out the riddle she'd been given. In the evenings, however, she 'requested' his presence in her cabin, to share a meal with her, though he ate his other meals with the rest of the crew. The first evening, after the dishes had been cleared away, Emily had calmly circled the table, sat down in Patrick's lap, and kissed him. After a moment of surprise, he pushed her away. "What are you doing?"
"Kissing you, of course, unless you've spent so much time buried in your books that you don't even know what that is," she replied. Then she squirmed in his lap and his traitorous body responded eagerly to her warm weight. Smirking, she looked up at him. "Hmm. Maybe you know what that is, after all."
He held her back when she tried to stretch up to kiss him again. "Hold on. This wasn't part of our agreement."
"You're here as my prisoner, Professor," she reminded him, blue eyes flashing.
Patrick raised his eyebrows, determinedly holding her at arm's length. He'd had his share of experiences, but he knew Emily would be very different from any other woman he'd been with. "You intend to force yourself on me?"
"No, but you don't seem to be trying very hard to resist me." Smirking, she squirmed once again and he couldn't stop the shudder of pleasure that went through him.
Giving in to his curiosity and unbidden desire, Patrick pulled her to him for another kiss.
4. School
As she waited for the curtain to go up on the opening night of the senior play, Emily Appleton told herself that the butterflies in her stomach were the usual opening night nerves. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was playing Beatrice opposite Patrick Henry Gates' Benedict in Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing. Sparks always seemed to fly when they talked, though talking for them could be better described as arguing. He hadn't even been cast as Benedict originally because he technically wasn't a senior, having graduated the year before. The other boy, Basil Hawthorne, had had to drop out due to a family emergency and the drama teacher had contacted Patrick to ask him to take over the part. That'd been a week ago and most of the rehearsing had consisted of the teacher going over the blocking with Patrick. The dress rehearsal hadn't exactly taken place, so the cast had to yet to do an entire run-through of the play with Patrick as Benedict. The drama teacher had just urged them to do the best they could and improvise if they stumbled.
Emily banished her thoughts as the curtain went up and the play started, slipping into character easily after several months of rehearsal. Thankfully, Patrick seemed to remember everything that he'd gone over the past week and didn't miss a line himself. The play proceeded quickly, with few mistakes. Then the one scene that had worried Emily since she learned Patrick would be taking over Benedict arrived: the one where Beatrice and Benedict confessed their love for each other. Due to problems cropping up unexpectedly, they never actually practiced the scene together, aside from reading it through together one time. Emily's heart began pounding in her chest when Patrick declared, "I do love nothing in the world so well as you. Is not that strange?"
"As strange as the thing I know not," Emily replied, turned from making her exit, taking a few steps towards him as she continued. "It were as possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as you." He started towards her, a grin on his face, and she held up a hand to stop him. "But believe me not;" she turned away from him, as if confused, "and yet I lie not. I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing." She sighed and sat down on the bench. "I am sorry for my cousin!"
Striding towards her, he knelt to take her hand in both of his, the grin back and larger than ever. "By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me!"
"Do not swear and eat it," she retorted with some of the spark that characterized their usual conversations when they weren't acting.
Shifting to sit beside her on the bench, he responded, smiling still, "I will swear by it that you love me, and I will make him eat it that says I love not you."
"Will you not eat your word?" she questioned him, looking up at him through her lashes, both demure and coy.
He shook his head, lifting one hand to stroke her cheek softly. "With no sauce that can be devised to it. I protest I love thee."
"Why then, God forgive me!" Emily exclaimed, standing up and walking a few paces away, a smile beginning to curve her own lips.
Still seated on the bench, Patrick asked, "What offense, sweet Beatrice?"
"You have stayed me in a happy hour," she admitted as her smile warmed and grew, turning to face him. "I was about to protest I love you."
Standing, he closed the distance between them, taking her hands in his and gazing intently into her eyes. "And do it with all thy heart."
"I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest," Emily told him, squeezing his hands with her own.
Releasing her hands, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. She responded instinctively, sliding her arms around his waist as she did. Dimly, part of her wondered how he kissed for real if this was how he kissed on stage.
5. Urban Fantasy
"You're a damn fool, Gates!" she yelled as they stood back to back, fighting off both vampires and lycans. "What were you thinking, approaching him without back up?"
After a flurry of kicks and punches, followed by the flash of a silver knife, Patrick answered Emily's question, "I hadn't considered that it might be an ambush."
"How long have you been dealing with vampires and lycans?" Emily demanded, flinging a well-aimed stake at a vampire, following it up with a swipe of her sword that neatly beheaded him.
Patrick reluctantly lifted the gun she'd pressed into his hand and fired it at the lycan he'd just been fighting. Three silver bullets hit the lycan in the chest. "Just a few months."
The vampires and lycans retreated then, taking their wounded with them. Emily looked up at the sky and breathed a sigh of relief. Patrick looked up as well and understood why she was relieved: it was almost dawn. "Never approach them without backup, Patrick. They may seem friendly, but assume the worst until you can confirm otherwise."
"I just want to help them," Patrick told her as he followed her from the site of the fighting, aware that it wasn't safe to be found there.
She led him down an alley and through a door into a cramped basement residence. Everywhere he looked, he saw weapons for fighting vampires and lycans, with books taking up the remaining space. Emily pushed him onto a sagging couch, and then sat down beside him, a first aid kit open on the coffee table in front of him. "It's very noble of you, but not all of them want to be helped."
"I know." He sighed, flinching a little when she dabbed at a cut on his cheek with a cotton swab soaked in antiseptic. "I can try, though."
Smiling, Emily stretched up and kissed him lightly on the lips. "I'll help you help them, but only once you've learned how to properly defend yourself. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
6. One Last Kiss
Emily gave a tired, yet satisfied sigh as she rested her head on Patrick's chest, reassured by the steady beat of his heart under cheek. "Today went well, don't you think?"
"Yes." Patrick pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Abe has more of a flair for storytelling than I ever did."
Smiling fondly, Emily tilted her head back to look up at him. "You'll always be the best storyteller as far as your grandchildren are concerned."
"What about you?" he asked, arching eyebrow at her.
"You're the best man and husband a woman could ask for," she assured him, tightening her arms briefly around him.
He smiled and lowered his head enough to kiss her softly. "I love you, Em."
"I love you, too, Pat." She kissed him back, and then snuggled into his arms once again, more than content.
Those were the last words they spoke to each other, because that was the night Patrick passed away in his sleep, leaving behind a wife, a son, and three grandchildren.
End
Pairing/Characters: Patrick Henry Gates, Emily Appleton; Patrick/Emily
Rating: R
Fandom: National Treasure
Word Count: 2,188
Spoilers: Not really
Summary: Five first kisses Patrick and Emily could have shared.
Notes/Warnings: I've seen lots of 'five plus one' fics out there and decided to try my hand at one. Beta by unicorn_catcher.
Five First Kisses
1. Old West
"Patrick Henry Gates, where are you?" Emily Appleton called as she stormed into the barn where the ranch hand was working. He remained quiet up in the hayloft, edging just far enough forward to see the petite young woman standing near the stalls, hands on her hips as she slowly turned in a circle. Patrick could just imagine the way her eyes were flashing as she looked for him. The moment he'd set eyes on her when he arrived at the ranch to ask for a job, he'd thought her the most beautiful girl in the world. Patrick must have made some noise when he moved, though, because she tilted her head back and looked right at him. "There you are!"
He offered a weak smile and a wave. "Hi, Miss Emily. What do you need?"
"We need to talk," she retorted firmly, climbing up the ladder to the hayloft.
Patrick remained where he was, holding onto the pitchfork with both hands. "If you're referring to me accidentally spotting you swimming in the creek just a few minutes ago..."
"Yes, exactly that," Emily replied, stepping lightly from the ladder to the hayloft. She walked over to him, tilting her head back as she drew closer.
He swallowed, his jeans beginning to feel snug in front as he tried hard not to remember the way she'd looked as she walked from the creek to her clothes piled on the shore, completely nude and utterly gorgeous. "It won't happen again, I promise, Miss Emily. Consider it forgotten."
"I don't want you to forget it, Patrick," she told him, reaching out to cover his hands on the pitchfork.
Blinking, he stared down at her, his jeans feeling even tighter and his heart skipping a beat. "You don’t? Why?"
"I knew you were there," Emily explained, sliding one hand up to his chest, resting over his now-pounding heart. "I wanted you to see me."
Patrick lost his grip on the pitchfork then, the implement falling soundlessly into the hay between them. "You did?"
Nodding, she stretched up on tiptoe to brush her lips across his chin. "I wanted you to want me."
"I always have," he admitted huskily, his hands moving to circle her waist automatically. "Ever since I first saw you."
Smiling, she drew his head down to hers for a hungry kiss. When she nudged his hand up to cover one breast, he realized she hadn't completely dressed after her swim in the creek. Groaning, he deepened the kiss and tumbled them into the hay. He'd known from the moment they met that he'd never be able to resist her.
2. Superpowers
"Spitfire! Look out!" The superheroine turned in time to watch as Windstorm plowed into the henchman she hadn't even noticed had been behind her.
Hovering in the air so her eyes were level with his, she glared at him. "I don't need rescuing. I'm not a damsel in distress."
"Sure looked like it to me," he retorted, gray eyes narrowing behind his mask.
Tossing her blonde head, she replied, "I had it handled."
"Sure you did." He looked around just then and so did she. They were surrounded by henchmen. "We'll settle this later."
Working together, they disposed of the henchmen, and then the supervillian. Once they were all in custody, the two of them slipped away to change out of their costumes and become regular citizens once more. "Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean you have to 'rescue' me, Patrick."
"It wasn't a 'rescue' Emily," he told her, exasperated. "It was watching your back, as a partner."
She poked a finger into his chest, glaring up at him. "We're not partners."
"We could be," he replied, something unfamiliar glinting behind his glasses.
Before she could react, he leaned down to kiss her, his arms sliding around her waist. Quite without meaning to, her arms crept around his neck. She'd kissed her share of men, but this kiss was different. She liked it.
3. Pirates
Professor Patrick Gates wasn't sure what to think of Captain Emily Appleton of the pirate ship Cíbola. She strode the decks of her ship with confidence, the members of her crew treating her with respect even though most of them towered over her. Patrick himself was taller than her, but he was an academic, not a sailor, so he didn't really count. For the most part, Emily left him alone to work out the riddle she'd been given. In the evenings, however, she 'requested' his presence in her cabin, to share a meal with her, though he ate his other meals with the rest of the crew. The first evening, after the dishes had been cleared away, Emily had calmly circled the table, sat down in Patrick's lap, and kissed him. After a moment of surprise, he pushed her away. "What are you doing?"
"Kissing you, of course, unless you've spent so much time buried in your books that you don't even know what that is," she replied. Then she squirmed in his lap and his traitorous body responded eagerly to her warm weight. Smirking, she looked up at him. "Hmm. Maybe you know what that is, after all."
He held her back when she tried to stretch up to kiss him again. "Hold on. This wasn't part of our agreement."
"You're here as my prisoner, Professor," she reminded him, blue eyes flashing.
Patrick raised his eyebrows, determinedly holding her at arm's length. He'd had his share of experiences, but he knew Emily would be very different from any other woman he'd been with. "You intend to force yourself on me?"
"No, but you don't seem to be trying very hard to resist me." Smirking, she squirmed once again and he couldn't stop the shudder of pleasure that went through him.
Giving in to his curiosity and unbidden desire, Patrick pulled her to him for another kiss.
4. School
As she waited for the curtain to go up on the opening night of the senior play, Emily Appleton told herself that the butterflies in her stomach were the usual opening night nerves. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was playing Beatrice opposite Patrick Henry Gates' Benedict in Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing. Sparks always seemed to fly when they talked, though talking for them could be better described as arguing. He hadn't even been cast as Benedict originally because he technically wasn't a senior, having graduated the year before. The other boy, Basil Hawthorne, had had to drop out due to a family emergency and the drama teacher had contacted Patrick to ask him to take over the part. That'd been a week ago and most of the rehearsing had consisted of the teacher going over the blocking with Patrick. The dress rehearsal hadn't exactly taken place, so the cast had to yet to do an entire run-through of the play with Patrick as Benedict. The drama teacher had just urged them to do the best they could and improvise if they stumbled.
Emily banished her thoughts as the curtain went up and the play started, slipping into character easily after several months of rehearsal. Thankfully, Patrick seemed to remember everything that he'd gone over the past week and didn't miss a line himself. The play proceeded quickly, with few mistakes. Then the one scene that had worried Emily since she learned Patrick would be taking over Benedict arrived: the one where Beatrice and Benedict confessed their love for each other. Due to problems cropping up unexpectedly, they never actually practiced the scene together, aside from reading it through together one time. Emily's heart began pounding in her chest when Patrick declared, "I do love nothing in the world so well as you. Is not that strange?"
"As strange as the thing I know not," Emily replied, turned from making her exit, taking a few steps towards him as she continued. "It were as possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as you." He started towards her, a grin on his face, and she held up a hand to stop him. "But believe me not;" she turned away from him, as if confused, "and yet I lie not. I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing." She sighed and sat down on the bench. "I am sorry for my cousin!"
Striding towards her, he knelt to take her hand in both of his, the grin back and larger than ever. "By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me!"
"Do not swear and eat it," she retorted with some of the spark that characterized their usual conversations when they weren't acting.
Shifting to sit beside her on the bench, he responded, smiling still, "I will swear by it that you love me, and I will make him eat it that says I love not you."
"Will you not eat your word?" she questioned him, looking up at him through her lashes, both demure and coy.
He shook his head, lifting one hand to stroke her cheek softly. "With no sauce that can be devised to it. I protest I love thee."
"Why then, God forgive me!" Emily exclaimed, standing up and walking a few paces away, a smile beginning to curve her own lips.
Still seated on the bench, Patrick asked, "What offense, sweet Beatrice?"
"You have stayed me in a happy hour," she admitted as her smile warmed and grew, turning to face him. "I was about to protest I love you."
Standing, he closed the distance between them, taking her hands in his and gazing intently into her eyes. "And do it with all thy heart."
"I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest," Emily told him, squeezing his hands with her own.
Releasing her hands, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. She responded instinctively, sliding her arms around his waist as she did. Dimly, part of her wondered how he kissed for real if this was how he kissed on stage.
5. Urban Fantasy
"You're a damn fool, Gates!" she yelled as they stood back to back, fighting off both vampires and lycans. "What were you thinking, approaching him without back up?"
After a flurry of kicks and punches, followed by the flash of a silver knife, Patrick answered Emily's question, "I hadn't considered that it might be an ambush."
"How long have you been dealing with vampires and lycans?" Emily demanded, flinging a well-aimed stake at a vampire, following it up with a swipe of her sword that neatly beheaded him.
Patrick reluctantly lifted the gun she'd pressed into his hand and fired it at the lycan he'd just been fighting. Three silver bullets hit the lycan in the chest. "Just a few months."
The vampires and lycans retreated then, taking their wounded with them. Emily looked up at the sky and breathed a sigh of relief. Patrick looked up as well and understood why she was relieved: it was almost dawn. "Never approach them without backup, Patrick. They may seem friendly, but assume the worst until you can confirm otherwise."
"I just want to help them," Patrick told her as he followed her from the site of the fighting, aware that it wasn't safe to be found there.
She led him down an alley and through a door into a cramped basement residence. Everywhere he looked, he saw weapons for fighting vampires and lycans, with books taking up the remaining space. Emily pushed him onto a sagging couch, and then sat down beside him, a first aid kit open on the coffee table in front of him. "It's very noble of you, but not all of them want to be helped."
"I know." He sighed, flinching a little when she dabbed at a cut on his cheek with a cotton swab soaked in antiseptic. "I can try, though."
Smiling, Emily stretched up and kissed him lightly on the lips. "I'll help you help them, but only once you've learned how to properly defend yourself. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
6. One Last Kiss
Emily gave a tired, yet satisfied sigh as she rested her head on Patrick's chest, reassured by the steady beat of his heart under cheek. "Today went well, don't you think?"
"Yes." Patrick pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Abe has more of a flair for storytelling than I ever did."
Smiling fondly, Emily tilted her head back to look up at him. "You'll always be the best storyteller as far as your grandchildren are concerned."
"What about you?" he asked, arching eyebrow at her.
"You're the best man and husband a woman could ask for," she assured him, tightening her arms briefly around him.
He smiled and lowered his head enough to kiss her softly. "I love you, Em."
"I love you, too, Pat." She kissed him back, and then snuggled into his arms once again, more than content.
Those were the last words they spoke to each other, because that was the night Patrick passed away in his sleep, leaving behind a wife, a son, and three grandchildren.
End