Work Text:
A month had gone by in Highbury, and Harriet was in love with her new life . In her role as a kindergarten teacher, cheery little kids, her students, had welcomed her. She fit right in, her bright clothing and excitable attitude matching well with the kids. They were snotty, little brats, but Harriet loved those rosy faces more than she had been anticipating, but the feeling was not unwelcome. She had quickly found a friend in the secretary at Hartfield, Emma Woodhouse. Though Emma could be a little bit... misled at times, she invited Harriet over, watched sappy movies, and wanted to hang out regularly. Harriet honestly thought that best friends only existed in middle school until Emma had randomly invited her out on the first day of work.
In the less-platonic, romantic world, two students, kindergartener Elizabeth Martin and older sister Catherine, had dragged a shy, but attractive man by his wrists into her classroom after school one day, absolutely insistent upon him meeting their favorite teacher. They puffed out their cheeks and adjusted their backpacks while the man shifted in place. At the urgings of his companions, he introduced himself, red in the face, as Robert Martin. He tried to offer his hand to shake but was anchored in position by both of the children.
The first thing Harriet had noticed about Robert was he was very tall, made only taller by the small girls next to him and Harriet's own lacking height. Giggling, Harriet politely introduced herself and engaged him in conversation. "Are you Catherine and Elizabeth's father, then?"
He shook his head and responded, "No, I'm their older brother."
At that, it was Harriet's turn to blush. It wasn't a radical assumption, though. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, possibly older. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have assumed."
"No worries, we get that a lot." Robert smiled sympathetically. "I know the age difference is a bit... much."
Aside from the uncomfortable start, Harriet and Robert fell into an easy discussion about her work and his sisters. She found herself crossing her arms in front of her chest as to quell the small fluttering arising. While they talked,
At some point, Elizabeth had detached herself from her older brother to rummage through her backpack and pull out a candy bar to feast upon while two of her favorite people (fell in love) chatted. Robert politely brought their conversation to a close as his sisters got antsier and as the time got later. Harriet, though disappointed, said her goodbyes to Robert and his sisters but took notice at Elizabeth's treat.
"Aw, man! KitKat's are one of my favorite sweets." She pursed her lips. They had gotten taken out of the vending machines in school by Mr. Woodhouse as soon as he spotted them. She put aside her longing for sugary treats of any kind and continued seeing the Martin family off.
The next time she saw Mr. Martin, he had walked in with Catherine and Elizabeth and presented her with a hefty bag of KitKat's with a small note attached. Harriet beamed at the Martin family and graciously thanked themed. The small girls quickly overtook the conversation, recounting their days at school, while Robert patiently followed along.
Harriet nodded along with Elizabeth's dramatic tale, but she found herself looking at Robert more often than not. She wanted to reach out and touch his cheek, ghost her fingers over his jaw, and press her lips against his.
When that unwelcome thought crossed her mind, Harriet inhaled sharply. The small action went unnoticed by the two children, but certainly not by Robert. His eyes met hers for a split second until she suddenly became very engaged with the story concocted by the Martin sisters. Feeling her face heat up under his gaze, Harriet panicked inwardly. When her mind began clearing up, Elizabeth and Catherine were being ushered out the door by Robert, who was turned away from her. While he was bent over to help Elizabeth, not even mousy, innocent Harriet could keep from looking at his butt.
The Martin's were gone as soon as they arrived, leaving behind a flustered Harriet.
As Harriet sought some candy comfort for the whirlwind of emotions, she read through the note many times. It was a handmade card from the Martin girls, with endearing globs of glitter glue that weren't quite dry. Written along the bottom was a special message from the eldest Martin:
Thanks for being such a great teacher to Catherine and Elizabeth. If you'd like to talk further, here's my number!
And there it was. Ten digits sent Harriet rummaging through the KitKat bag once more.
~
Robert Martin was a physical education teacher at the high school a few blocks away from Hartfield. He coached his little sisters' soccer teams in the summer. It was nice not only to text him during the day (and sometimes night) but to meet him after school while he walked home with his sisters. At least, that's what Harriet had discovered through a copious amount of conversation with him over the first half of the school year.
Just like Harriet knew that he was afraid of snakes, he knew that she liked sunflowers above all else. Robert knew that her mother had died when she was seventeen and that she didn't like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches because she was eating one when she found out. She knew that he lost his virginity in a treehouse.
It's official. Harriet had a crush. Though 'crush' sounded juvenile, it was the only way to describe the butterflies bouncing around in her body every time he smiled.
At expressing this development to Emma over coffee in the staffroom, Harriet was left even more confused. Harriet poured her heart out only to be met with dissatisfaction by the woman opposite her.
Grimacing, Emma put down her coffee and started playing with her hair, "Are you sure he's good enough for you?"
Harriet blinked. "Why wouldn't he be?"
Pushing a few blonde curls into place, Emma sighed, "Well, first of all, he's a gym teacher," as if that explained it all. When Harriet stared back, still bewildered, she continued, "He's also practically raising his younger sisters. Do you really want to get involved in that?"
Taking a long sip of her coffee, Emma let Harriet sit in doubt for a moment. Before Harriet could completely lose herself in thought, Emma interrupted. "Besides, I hear that Frank Elton is totally into you!" A grin replaced the frown on the perfect lips of Emma Woodhouse as she gushed about how Frank adored Harriet, despite having met once.
With that, Harriet handed her phone off to Emma when Robert invited her to dinner the following day. Emma wrote a textbook message refusing his offer. Though disappointed, Harriet pressed send herself. She stopped meeting him on their routine walk after school and politely brushed off the inquiries of the well-meaning Catherine and Elizabeth, citing colder weather as the reason for her abandonment.
She still saw him around town occasionally, but Emma had coached her on perfecting avoidance skills. Keeping her eyes low, Harriet suppressed the reactions in her body that screamed at her ignorance. There was no time to feel guilt for her scripted rejection because Harriet was urged into a date with Frank Elton later that month.
Listening to Elton talk about himself and how he was going to be the mayor wasn't unpleasant. Harriet merely reacted to his fantasies when it felt necessary and stayed quiet, and her date for the evening was satisfied. To be fair, Harriet had some fantasies of her own that occupied her thoughts. Emma had said Elton was so loyal and wanted so many of the same things. Emma had taken her by the hand and planned out the perfect life of Harriet Smith and Frank Elton. That's why Harriet kissed him that night, even when some part of her felt so betrayed at this.
Harriet considered that date somewhat successful. At least, she did. Frank took the microphone at the winter wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Weston and confessed his love for Emma Woodhouse. He had never cared for Harriet, only Emma. Harriet could die, and Frank could not care less. To her credit, Emma seemed mortified. She had the decency to pull Harriet aside and apologize profusely.
And Harriet cried. In the bathroom, crouched on the tiled floor, Harriet and Emma cried ugly tears out of embarrassment and hate. Harriet gripped Emma, forgiving Emma repeatedly. Emma let Harriet rub her snot into her dress.
As she washed off the ruined makeup Emma had so delicately applied hours earlier, Harriet observed herself in the mirror and felt overwhelmed. She was the exact opposite of her model-like best friend. With a short stature and flat brown hair, Harriet was a shadow to Emma. But there was no time to care about that because, according to Emma, there was a wedding to celebrate, and Frank Elton shouldn't ruin a good day.
They returned to the wedding under the stares of dozens, but, thankfully, Elton was gone, having been removed by Frank Churchill. Emma held her head high and slipped back into the celebration with ease while Harriet had no such luck.
Robert Martin was definitely in the crowd and most definitely watching her as she sat limply at her table, she thought to herself. She looked miserable, both inside and out.
"Do you want to dance?"
Harriet looked up, shocked and curious. There was George Knightley with his hand outstretched. She accepted.
Dancing was a great distraction, she decided. Even while dancing with Emma, Knightley smiled at her reassuringly, and suddenly the night wasn't so bad after all.
~
As much as she was tired of relationships, Harriet wanted to be near Knightley. He would listen to her, more than Frank Elton or Emma wanted to at least. Ever since Frank Churchill had arrived and showered Emma with attention, Harriet felt lonely, but happy at her friend's romantic prospects. Wherever Churchill and Emma were, Harriet and Knightley were never far behind, keeping a close eye on the couple in front of them. Emma welcomed with rapt attention at Harriet's hints at a crush forming on a mutual acquaintance. Harriet would push Emma to invite him along on their outings, and at some point, Harriet thought Emma had picked up on the one-sided affection. Aside from enjoying his company, Harriet resigned herself to this girlish fantasy.
At least, she thought she did. At the school picnic on Box Hill, Knightley seemed to stick to Harriet's side. Knightley talked to her, leaving Emma to the mercy of the talkative Ms. Bates, about his sponsorship of sports, especially through the local high school. Harriet, though not particularly interested in the subject, returned his conversation with enthusiasm. This steady stream of discussion continued until he suddenly changed the topic.
"Hey, are you seeing anyone?" Knightley asked with genuine curiosity.
Harriet was bowled over with shock and nervousness. She opened her mouth to respond, but never got the chance.
Emma had interrupted her, once again. At the end of her rope with Ms. Bates, Emma had loudly blurted out, "God, can't you go five seconds without saying something so utterly dull?"
Knightley had been on his feet in seconds, eyes blazing with some mixture of frustration, anger, and sadness, leaving behind Harriet Smith to interpret her feelings and his actions once more.
~
When Harriet saw Emma again, she had thrown herself at the mercy of Harriet, crying. After a cup of tea and a box of tissues, Emma had identified the cause of her distress as the recently-discovered relationship between Frank Churchill and Jane Fairfax. It thoroughly surprised Harriet when Emma embraced her and attempted a comforting gesture.
Emma scrunched her face in confusion when Harriet didn't return her efforts. "Are you okay?"
Harriet returned her bewildered expression and said, "Yes?"
The room happened into a heavy silence. After returning to her seat across from Harriet, Emma was the first to speak up. "I thought you were, like, obsessed with him," she responded, stunned.
"With Churchill? God, no!" Harriet fell straight back into the quiet for a moment. "Em, I thought you liked him," She stated with all seriousness.
"No way! We're way too similar to be good together." Harriet snickered at the romantic disdain for Frank Churchill. Emma, exasperated, demanded answers, "B-But you said he rescued you at the wedding! Churchill literally manhandled Elton!"
Relishing the feeling of being more knowledgeable than Emma, Harriet sighed happily. "He rescued me at the wedding, yes, but I meant in a more emotional sense."
Emma paled. She knew. "Harriet, darling, I know that you cannot mean George Knightley."
Harriet searched for any jest in Emma's tone but found none. "So what if I do?" She scoffed, months of resentment were bleeding into her words, "Do you feel that you need to ruin my love life yet again?"
Like a slap across the face, Harriet's questions caused her to jerk back. "That's not-I mean, do you even know if he likes you back?"
With the brief crack in Emma's composure, Harriet took the high ground. Sticking up her nose like Emma had done to her so many times, Harriet huffed, "As a matter of fact, I think he does. At Box Hill-" Emma flinched "-he talked to me about his sponsorship of the schools. He even asked me if I was single."
Emma visibly sunk. Their eyes met in a battle, Harriet's furious and Emma's dark with sadness. "Harriet," Emma paused to regain control of her voice, "do you think that he may have been referencing to Robert Martin? They are friends-"
Harriet pushed away from Emma, cutting her off. "You think of George Knightley for yourself!" She cried in outrage.
Emma did not respond directly to that claim but looked away guiltily. "I do not think, no, I know that Knightley would never intentionally lead any girl on."
Turning around so her tears would remain hidden, Harriet murmured in her broken voice the last and most hurtful of Emma's sins, "I turned down Robert Martin because of you. "
"Harriet-"
" Emma ," Harriet hissed, still not facing her, "I would like you to leave."
And she did. Emma was not perfect, but at least she knew that Harriet needed anyone but her. Little did she know, Harriet just sent Emma into the arms of the man she was supposed to love.
Oh.
Harriet had remembered something.
It was her birthday tomorrow.
~
Harriet called in sick to work, and it wasn't even a lie. She had either eaten herself into an early death after Emma had left, or her body just decided to rot, like her heart. The former seemed more likely.
After a restless sleep, a good cry, and a thirty-minute long birthday phone call with Ms. Bates on her lunch break, Harriet felt the same. Emma, bless her heart, had the sense to order Harriet some soup instead of approaching her after their argument. In some kind of crazy metaphor, Harriet had thrown up the soup not even an hour later. Hell, even George Knightley sent a birthday text.
It all just seemed to pass through her, having no lasting effect on her mood. After stewing in self-pity throughout the morning, Harriet dragged herself into the shower and sat under a stream of burning water while singing Bohemian Rhapsody to herself. If not making her feel better, it provided better entertainment than a continuous stream of Netflix.
Tucking herself back into bed at 4 PM, Harriet was content to sleep until she was again ready to face twenty kids screech. As she drifted into unconsciousness, Harriet felt at peace for the first time that day. She should have known it was too good to be true because a sturdy knock on the door drove the beginnings of a dream away.
Squeezing her eyes shut for a boost of energy, she squeaked acknowledgment to the person at her door. A disgruntled Harriet, clad in a sleep shirt, no bra, and flannel pajama pants, shuffled to her door. Breathing in to prepare, she opened the door and locked her eyes on the firm chest in front of her.
Well, shit.
Holding a bag of KitKats and a gift bag, Robert Martin stood looking down at his shoes, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
At her opening the door, he stilled and looked up shyly, "Hi."
Harriet stared dumbly at him for a bit longer than she should've. "Hello." Her stomach fluttered, either from sickness or repressed feelings.
"Um, so, Emma... sent me with some stuff."
Harriet dulled significantly at that. Of course, he was there out of basic obligation to the master manipulator, Emma. "Ah."
Before stillness could worsen the situation, Robert spoke up with shy enthusiasm. "Happy birthday!" He practically shoved the gift bag and KitKats into her arms. "The actual gift is from Emma," he stammered a bit before continuing, "I-I really wasn't sure if you wanted to see me, so it's less than you deserve." He accompanied his shameful declaration with a sorry smile.
Harriet couldn't help but grin at him. "Thank you so much!" A jumble of happiness and shame rushed through her veins. "W-would you like to come in?"
Robert's eyes widened. Harriet silently prayed for him to say yes.
"I can't."
Harriet's smile tightened.
'Not because I don't want to," he assured her quickly, obviously noticing discomfort, "Catherine and Elizabeth are waiting for me in the car, and I don't want to leave them alone for too long."
"Oh, tell them I said hi," Harriet relaxed a bit at that, but still felt some degree of sadness at his refusal. "Another time, then?"
She saw his neck go red. "Yeah." At that, he was off.
~
A day later, Harriet had found herself texting Robert out of pure impulse, finally listening purely to her own thoughts. She found herself chatting with Robert about anything and everything. They had a few month's worth of information to share, so no time wasted in that regard. It remained strictly platonic for the time being, much to the dismay of Harriet (and Robert).
One week later, Harriet had opened up the supply closet in school and found Emma locked in a rather compromising position with Mr. Knightley himself. As Emma untangled herself from him, Harriet examined herself and found nothing but happiness for her friend. Before Emma could say anything, Harriet had thrown her arms around Emma and congratulated her for a relationship a long time coming.
Two weeks later, Harriet had finished her first year of teaching. After a few tears and snotty hugs with kids, she had officially survived the year. While Bohemian Rhapsody blasted in her background, Harriet cleaned her classroom for the summer. She smiled to herself, content with the way the year had wrapped up.
While she arranged post-it notes on her desk, Harriet, still aggressively headbanging, didn't notice Robert Martin walking into her classroom. She didn't notice him lightly laughing at her impromptu dance moves while wiping down her whiteboard, and she didn't notice his fiddling with a wrapped present in his grasp.
Turning around to throw away a paper towel, Harriet practically radiated glee at the sight of Robert. Smiling, she spoke, "What are you doing here, Mr. Martin?" She got closer to him than necessary but neither seemed to notice or mind. "Sadly, Elizabeth is no longer in need of my teaching." At the mention of the younger Martin, Harriet furrowed her brows, noticing the lack of his two usual companions. "Speaking of Elizabeth, where is she? I would've expected her to be with you."
Robert rubbed his thumbs unconsciously on the smooth wrapping paper of his present, "They're with friends, but I actually wanted to talk to you, um, alone." Digging his heels into the carpeted floor, Robert inhaled deeply and continued, "I got you a proper present, though it's a little late." He pushed the present into her hands.
Harriet gasped and smiled even wider. Tearing into her present and opening the box inside, she stopped her ravenous efforts. Inside, there was a necklace. At the end of a gold chain, there was a simple sunflower pendant attached. Looking up at him, mouth agape, she watched him stumble through his words.
"I, er, like you, Harriet." The addressed tensed. "A lot more and a lot longer than I should, probably. And I-I know that I'm not a perfect man like Knightley or Churchill or Elton. I honestly thought you hated me, but Emma came to me and gave me ho-"
He stopped once he realized Harriet was heading towards the open door out of her classroom. Before he could react, she practically slammed it shut. Confused, he watched Harriet silently fumble with her keys, lock it, and turn back to him with unrestrained happiness. Throwing her hands around his neck, Robert had to brace himself against a desk to keep himself from falling over.
Once he regained stability, Robert hugged Harriet back like she was everything. Withdrawing slightly, Harriet brought herself face-to-face with him. His dark brown eyes were squinted with happiness while hers were shiny from tears. She studied his face with her eyes, wanting to absorb every freckle and scar she could find. Bringing her hand up, she traced his face, barely ghosting his skin with her touch. She smiled, knowing this was right.
Not breaking eye contact, as if it would kill him, Robert ran a hand through his hair. Leaning in hesitantly, Harriet gladly closed the distance. Their lips met in a kiss that left her body swelling with delight, desire, and satisfaction. When they broke apart, Harriet buried her face in his chest, settling in his grip.
As she felt his wild heartbeat through his t-shirt, Harriet decided that her feelings had to be expressed as well. "I like you, so, so much."
He laughed euphorically and hummed his response. Harriet only pressed herself into him to feel the soothing rumbles it brought.