Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He’s waiting for the fallout. The fallout from the tornado, his job, what happened to Brett…and of course, Amy.

Not that he has any expectations, or anything. They were in a life or death situation. Amy would have done-what they did-no matter who was next to her, he thinks.

Okay, if it was Glenn or Mateo, then probably not. But.

Okay.

He won’t hold her to anything. It was just one of those moments…

Yeah.

So now he has the next week off, his apartment thankfully spared from the crazy Midwest weather, and now he can just…hang out at home.

And think.

And maybe re-watch The Thin Blue Line, or something. He’s been meaning to rearrange his photography coffee table books, and look up the best way to braise the lamb shanks he has stored away. It’ll be good for a little self-reflection.

They’re all to meet at the Kirkwood store to decide the fate of the associates- of which he’s a part of- and somehow being separated from the people he’s grown to know tugs on his heartstrings a bit. There’s a sinking feeling that they’ll all be- not together- and it’s unfathomable.

Which is weird for a job that was only supposed to be temporary.

But temporary became a little more permanent when other factors came into play. For one, he didn’t want to move again. For two, he found someone who made him feel things that were…

Inappropriate.

But then.

He’s literally watching her fumble and fall apart in front of his eyes, and the eye’s of their coworkers. Standing there, clutching a Pink Cheyenne in her bridesmaid dress, not knowing what to say-but saying enough.

So, apparently the best course of action was to over compensate. By a lot. No reason for half measures. After he accidentally spills his guts, he’s not sorry- okay; he’s a little sorry- only because he didn’t mean to burden Amy with what actually amounted to his feelings.

He isn’t really sure how long he could have kept them buried.

He’s not sorry because Amy deserves to know that there’s someone out there who admires her…

Who lov-

There’s a knock at the door.

“I’m- I was just checking in on- I-“ She’s wringing her hands and not looking at him. “You know-making sure you’re okay. Anyway, you’re still alive so that answers my question.”

He’s standing there, his door open, and a woman who he cares about is shuffling around on the concrete landing.

Just how on Earth did they get here?

Instead he asks, “How did you… How did you find out where I live?”

She looks at him like that’s the stupidest thing she’s ever been asked. “Mateo. I asked, and he knew because he said something about ‘worthy adversaries and knowing where they sleep.’”

“Ookay.” That sounds right.

“Anyway, I just…I don’t know. I just wanted to see you.” Amy closes her eyes and turns to leave.

“Amy?”

Chapter Text

“Admiring my exquisite taste in art?” He places a cup of coffee in front of her as she sits rigidly on his couch, eyes glued to the Vladimir Putin painting that’s propped up against the wall.

He wasn’t willing to actually hang it up or anything, but he keeps it out as a reminder.

Of course.

“My dad painted that.” She looks at him. “My dad painted that and it’s in your house. Isn’t that…how did we get here, Jonah?”

He’s taken aback a little, because he isn’t sure how to answer. “It’s- it’s a really good likeness, you know-“

“How did we-“ her purse slips down her arm and catches on her wrist. “How…Jonah, what are- what is going on?”

She looks at him as if he had some sort of answer for her, but he doesn’t. He’s just as lost as she is. More so, if he’s being honest.

This hasn’t ever happened to him before.

He hasn’t ever felt this way before.

“Emma,” she starts, “Emma, and my job, and the store, and…and Brett probably died. And, my marriage. And, just,” the purse drops on the floor as Jonah sits slowly next to her, “everything. You.”

Jonah blinks and takes in everything she’s just said.

He’s watching Amy’s fallout.

Okay.

It’s unnerving and flattering and confusing when he realizes he’s on her list of…things that she’s thinking about.

He’s determined not to be a burden on her. “I-look-I…I’m here for you okay? Whatever happened, you know, during the whole…it’s not anything to worry about, okay?”

Yeah.

“I’m not worried about that.” She says. “Do you have anything to drink?”

“Do you not like the coffee? It’s special ordered from Astoria, Oregon.”

Amy gets up and makes her way to the kitchen. “No, I mean like, alcohol. I know you have some sort of rare microbrews stashed away, or some locally sourced, organic moonshine.”

Jonah follows her with a smile on his face because she isn’t worried about…what happened…and he can hear her shuffling around his kitchen.

Amy is in his kitchen.

Right.

“Aha!” Amy turns to him, wine bottle held triumphantly in her hand.

Jonah takes the bottle and looks at the label. “Good choice. This is actually from Oregon, too. The Willamette Valley has certain grapes that-“

“Jonah. Please just,” she waves to the bottle.

“As my lady wishes,” he says with a bow, and digs around for the opener.

So.

They’re drinking wine out of Mason jars side-by-side, leaning up against his sink.

Chapter Text

“Isn’t this a little pedestrian of you? I thought for sure you’d be one with the proper glass for like… each kind of wine.”

Jonah chuckles. “While that may be a weirdly accurate observation about me, I only actually utilize my superior and vast glassware knowledge whilst wooing.”

Amy raises her eyebrows and smiles at him. “Wooing? Did you actually- wait, should I be offended you aren’t trying to woo me?”

“What?” The tips of ears grow warm. “I’m not, you know, trying to- clearly I’m not with the-“ he gestures to the jam jar in her hand, “I mean, not that I wouldn’t, you know try to, uh, woo you.”

Jesus Christ.

“I dunno. I’m pretty sexy, so I’ve heard. I might be considered pretty ‘woo’ worthy.”

Jonah wags a finger at her while taking a quick sip, “You are…never going to let me live that down are you?” He’s still a little embarrassed by it, but after everything that’s happened since then, its sort of washed over that intentional-not intentional faux pas.

“Well…” Amy shrugs and doesn’t say anything else.

“So, uh, where’s Emma?” As soon as he says that, he wished he could take it back.

Because he totally wants to remind Amy of her marriage and home life.

“She’s with my parents. You know. The tornado, and all of that. They just want to spend time with her.” Amy takes the last drink, and turns to refill her jar. As she does so, she brushes up against him and he can smell the laundry soap on her clothes and the wine on her breath.

Right.

He needs to get ahold of himself. There’s no weather emergency that would excuse him if he grabbed her and kissed her.

But then it occurs to him. Of course her parents want to spend time with their granddaughter. That’s what situations do to people. When Adam showed up to find Amy…well, it would stand to reason they’d realize how much they mean to each other…

“What about Adam?” Jonah tries to sound casual, but to his own ears it sounds too quiet, too curious…too desperate.

She stops mid-pour. “Adam? What about him? He’s been staying with one of his high school buddies. Actually, he’s staying with the ex-boyfriend of that bitch Renee.” She shakes her head, and the wine bottle makes a loud clunk as she sets it back down on the counter.

It takes everything in his power to not read more into that.

“It’d take way more than an Act of God to fix my marriage, Jonah. It’s been….” Amy sighs, “it’s been over. Really over for a long time.”

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“I do have that locally sourced moonshine, you know. Literally. I paid Sal twelve dollars for it.”

Amy makes a face. “You…you haven’t actually drank it, have you? I’m sure it’d strip wallpaper.”

“Yeah, no.” Jonah says, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, I want to support local, er, merchants and what have you, but…I’m pretty sure he was brewing it in the abandoned POS closet.”

Amy gives a small smile into the jar she’s fiddling with. “He brews it in the back of his camper, actually.”

Jonah flinches and takes another drink. “I- really?”

“Yes, really.”

He doesn’t want to talk about Sal’s moonshine. He wants a roundabout way to ask her if she’d-

“You may be his first paying customer,” she says.

Refilling his glass, he laughs. “I’m not surprised. Has he always smelled like old…Band-Aids? I mean like, you know-“

“Yes!” She cuts him off, “like old Band-Aids and…and seeping wounds, sort of? That funky-“

“-Dirty, adhesive smell.”

Amy shakes her head and pretends to gag.

He looks at her and all he can see is her face right before she kissed him. He remembers every single emotion pumping through his veins and arteries- the fear, the panic, the adrenaline…then sheer joy. Absolute, unadulterated joy.

Jonah always imagined finding the love of his life while he sweated nailing shingles on the rooftop of a Habitat For Humanity house or, maybe when he backpacked through Europe that one summer. But certainly not in a chain retail store in St. Louis, Missouri, of all places.

He puts his glass down and focuses all his attention on Amy as she swirls the remainder of her drink and thinks how fate was a fickle yet brilliant thing, considering it brought him here.

It doesn’t matter what the fallout is now, does it?

“I- Jonah…” Amy trails off and he’s watching her entirely too closely. “Jonah, I- okay, look. I know I’m probably going to regret this but-“

“I read Harry Potter fan fiction.” Jonah blurts out loud.

WHAT? What was he…thinking?

He was thinking he didn’t want to hear what she was going to say next. She didn’t want to be his friend, she was uncomfortable with him, he was an idiot- any number of things that would…

That would break his heart.

“Did you,” she looks at him, head cocked, smiling, “did you just admit to reading Harry Potter fan fiction? For being a fourteen year old girl, you pull off playing a fully grown man nicely.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he says holding up a hand; suddenly driven to defend what he accidentally admitted. “I’ll have you know that there are really well written stuff out there. In fact, I’ll link you to my faves- wait- that’s only if you think Harry should have ended up with Hermione.” Jonah eyes her critically, waiting.

She finishes her wine before she enthusiastically shoves him. “Of course! I mean, c’mon, Ron Weasley? He’s way too immature for her. Sure, there would have been, like some sparks at first or something, but honestly? Hermione would want to go out and achieve her goals in life and Ron would have just held her back.” Amy refills her jar and his, and continues her tirade. “But Harry? They’re like friends, really good friends. Sure, she bosses him around and they fight over the broom his gets, but seriously it’s for his own good, you know? I mean- I get why he picks Ginny because she’s more fun and super pretty, or something, but Hermione and Harry have this…this bond. They support each other.”

Jonah is about to agree, but Amy grabs his shoulder. “Harry and Hermione have been through so much danger together.”

He’s looking at her, and wonders if she just realized certain correlations between fictional teenaged wizards in a boarding school in Scotland and two underpaid retail employees in Missouri.

Jonah takes the jar out of her hand and places it on the counter, his eyes never leaving hers. “Harry and Hermione belong together.” He says with entirely too much seriousness considering what he just said.

Okay.

Now he takes both her hands in his, still looking at her. “They belong together, but the one thing that should have happened didn’t because they never said anything about what I always suspected they felt about each other.”

“Maybe Hermione should have said something.” Amy says quietly.

“Harry was brave. Maybe he should have asked her out to Hogsmeade. On a date.”

“She’d say yes, you know, if he asked.”

So the fallout will be this.

“Amy? Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me? Wait, I mean, like do want to go out? With me- do you want to go out on a date with me. Not to a fake wizarding town, but-“

“Yes, Jonah. I’ll even let you buy me a butterbeer.”