A Hatchetfield Oneshot Collection

She Was A Skater Gorl

"Oh, I'm fine!" she said, even as she winced with the flexing of her arm. "See, perfectly fine."

"Nonsense! Here, I carry a first aid kit with me. Why don't you sit on the bench and I can patch you up."

Emma nodded reluctantly, grimacing as she stood and limped to a wooden bench, Paige trailing after her like, well, a puppy dog.

Paul grabbed his backpack from where he threw it on the ground, then kneeled in front of her, rolling up her pants leg a bit. The tips of his ears flushed a vivid scarlet color. Swallowing hard, he pushed the pants leg up further over her upper thigh, to make sure there was enough room to wrap the huge scrape thoroughly, but something caught his eye. Almost subconsciously, his fingers hovered over a rather gnarly scar on her thigh. It mostly held the blanched color of an old wound, with bursts of red and purple scarring here or there, an angry patch on such perfectly tanned skin, so out of place it might have been fake. The damaged skin was twisted in a way that made him wince. What ever could have caused that?

Emma noticed his curious gaze. "I was in a helicopter crash a few years ago in Guatemala. We crashed into the forest, and were stuck there for a week or two. It never healed right. Had to learn how to walk all over again."

"Sorry I--"

"It's fine," Emma laughed. "It still hurts like a bitch, but at least I can still skate." She offered him a smile, trying to tell him he was okay and not intruding, but his ears only turned a sharper shade of red, eyes unable to avoid hers quickly enough.

"Um, are you allergic to anything? Any types of bandages, hydrogen peroxide...?"

"No, but thanks for asking. You're very thoughtful."

Paul pushed back a smile, turning away to dig through the very meticulously organized bag of first aid supplies.

He treated her wounds with such care she thought that maybe he was a doctor, tongue sticking out adorably, brows furrowed as he gently applied a numbing cream and measured out gauze.

"That's not too tight, is it?" he asked.

"No. Thank you so much for helping me." She stood, trying to suppress a small groan, ignoring the phantom pain in her leg that still haunted her in the rainy seasons, and even sometimes in the dry. "I'll be riding off now, but maybe we'll see each other around?"

Paul looked a bit frozen for a moment, before a surprised grin split his face in two. "Yeah. I hope so--I mean that sounds cool. Yep. Coo-lio." He made finger guns, laughing nervously.

Emma chuckled a bit, throwing up a peace sign before reaching for her board. But when she looked down, it wasn't leaning against the bench where Paul had carefully placed it.

She spun around, hissing through her teeth as her bad leg twisted. "Where did my...Paige!"

The dog was sitting there, tail wagging, looking so happy with herself as she clutched the board in her jaws. Emma sighed, limping slowly toward her.

"Here, Baby. Can I have my board back please?"

Paige's eyes darted between her two human companions, tail stilling. Just as Emma lunged to close the few feet between them, the golden retriever darted past her. The brunette twisted through the air, letting out a yelp as she braced for contact with the hard ground. A pair of rather muscular arms closed around her, halting her fall. Paul was standing above her, panting as he held her tightly.

"Guess I...fell for ya, huh?" Emma smirked, eyes shining with laughter.

Paul's eyes widened, throat suddenly closing up on him. "That...That was not a good joke," he muttered, voice gruff.

"I thought it was rather good." She reached up to pat his cheek gently, grinning wider as Paul grew more and more flustered. "You're cute when you blush."

His brow furrowed, trying to force back his blush. It took a while for him to form a semi coherent sentence. "Let's...Let's get your board back." He lifted Emma with surprising strength, bringing her close to him as he set her on her feet. Emma's fingertips lingerd on his chest, and she swallowed thickly, determined not to acknowledge the growing heat across her cheeks.

"Yeah. Thanks for, um, catching me, Dude." She stepped away, punching him lightly on the arm in a way that made her want to slug herself into space.

"Wait, where did Paige go?"

Emma's eyes snapped to the direction the dog had been heading, but she was nowhere in sight. "Paige! Where are you, Girl?" she called sweetly. "Come here, Sweetheart!"

The scenery of the park remained still, not a even mouse daring to breathe as the pair listened closely for any sign of the golden retriever. The leaves let out a small rustle to their left, and Emma's head snapped toward the sound just in time to spot a rustling of plants in the underbrush of the park's edge, right where the nurtured grass met the wild forest.

"She's gonna get ticks," Paul groaned. "Plus I'm gonna have to brush her, which is not a pleasant experience for either of us."

Emma chuckled, something tugging upward on the corners of her lips at Paul's concern for his dog. "Come on, let's skirt the edge and take her by surprise!" she whispered loudly. There was a playful twinkle in her eyes, a twinkle of adrenaline and power, like she was a child in a high stakes game of tag and her heart was racing with the chase. "You take the left, I'll take the right, and we'll box her in."

"Sounds like a plan. Do we need codenames?"

"Yes! I'll be Batman, you be Robin."

"I thought Robin was supposed to be the short one!" Paul whined.

Emma's eyes narrowed at him. "Yeah well Batman isn't supposed to be a wimp. I'm Batman, you're Robin."

Paul sighed playfully, resigned. "Fine. Let's take our positions."

Emma gave him a stiff salute before hobbling off to take her place. Paul trudged through the grass to his spot, swiping his nose with his thumb to signify he was set. Emma smiled so widely at him he thought her skin would tear, mimicking the motion with a nod. They crept forward towards each other, eyes trained on the spot where the mischievous dog laid in ignorance of their approach. Finally, when they were no more than a few feet apart, Emma nodded, eyes darting from his hand to the underbrush. Paul lunged forward, hand diving into the leaves, fingers searching for the strip of leather that would guarantee him a grip on Paige.

"Got it!"

Paul pulled Paige gently from the underbrush, groaning at the burrs stuck to her fur. "Paige! Come on! You couldn't have avoided the burr bushes?"

Emma fell to her knees, digging roughly through the leaves, searching for her beloved board. It was far back in the brush, half buried in the soft ground. She grabbed it, tugging roughly. It didn't budge at first, but after a while it was safe in her arms, caked with soil.

"Well, I can't ride her til' I clean her, but I think she'll survive." She turned to a very apologetic Paul.

"Ugh, I'm so sorry about all of this. Now your board is dirty and you have to walk with that leg and-"

"Paul, it's fine." Emma laughed softly, cradling her board to her chest. "No harm no foul. This was fun."

He took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. "Really? Because my anxiety is telling me otherwise."

"Believe me, I relate to that. Anxiety is a lying bitch. Slap her down."

Paul glanced up to see the shorter woman's half smile, and his heart warmed a bit. "Would you...perhaps allow me to walk you to your destination? Ya know, just in case your leg gives out."

"As long as you carry me if it does."

"Deal."

They set off walking through the depths of the park, side by side, Paige dancing around their feet and occasionally running ahead, barking at them to hurry up. Emma's hands clutched her board, but something itched deep beneath her skin, the urge to reach down and intertwine her fingers with the man beside her. But no matter what front she put up, Emma was not a very brave person without a gun to her head. And so she didn't.

There would be time for that.