{ i&#x27;m not a hero }

Poppy looks up from her laptop, pleasantly surprised to see Bilbo Baggins standing before her– rambling, of course, as he is often prone. Still, her lips turn upwards into the brightest of smiles and she immediately saves her works and logs off. She doesn’t tell him that she intended to stay a bit late tonight to finish up a story she’s been working on– she can stay another time. Besides, she’s hungry and a night out with him sounds… well, it sounds about right.

“No– no,” she insists with a nod, “Tonight is perfect. I’ve got a change of clothes in the car. I’ll pop out for a minute and freshen up,” she says as she stands and gathers her things, eyes locked with his as she backs towards the door. “Jus’ one minute!” It’s more to convince him that she is coming back because she can tell he’s already doubting.

Though, when she says a minute, she actually means about ten. Just enough time to slip into a dress she’s recently dry-cleaned and let her hair down from the tight bun in which it’s usually kept. She isn’t fussy when it comes to make-up– just a touch of rouge and a hint of color added to pouty pink lips. She studies herself in the ladies’ room mirror and soon deems herself fit for dinner with the boss– ooh, that does sound a bit odd, doesn’t it? No matter. Slipping into a pair of modest pumps, she’s truly thankful for the sensible heels she keeps in the back of her car. Poppy Banks is always prepared for an adventure or two and, when she returns, it is with a sparkle of mischief in her eyes.

“So– dinner?”

As she dashes off, Bilbo realizes he’s been holding his breath. He sucks in a gasp of air, brushing the front of his sweater off nervously. He’d thought long and hard about what to wear and finally decided upon this was. Maroon was a good color, he supposed, classy, even.

By the time she returns, he’s all the more stressed she’s gone and bolted, but one look at her and his jaw nearly drops. His eyes widen and he blinks, stumbling over his words before correcting himself, “You-, you look very lovely, Poppy.” Yes, Poppy. He can venture her name, can’t he? “It’s not all that far if you think you’d like to walk, but I can always get a cab.” He glances down to her shoes. “It’s a nice stroll for me, but admittedly I’ve never attempted it in heels.”

The intern opens her mouth to say something– anything, really, but she finds that words have momentarily escaped her. Perhaps it has something to do with how close he is or the way he tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear on a mere whim. Her bottom lip catches between her teeth for what seems like the umpteenth time and she straightens up a little bit with every intention to move back and let him open the door and go about his day.

“Thursday,” she confirms with a nod, voice barely above a whisper. She’s still staring. Can’t seem to… not. It’s no great help, the way he’s returning her gaze. She means to step away, she really does, but it’s easier said than done. Much easier. There’s work to do– files to be copied and forwarded and yet her hands are moving towards his face. Everything is slow and surreal up until the moment she crashes her lips to his. Gotta’ return the favor, after all. It’s only fair.

He tries his very best to pay attention as the day arrives, burying himself in all the work he can find. He even goes so far as to volunteer to help out with one of the other reporter’s work, desperate to have the day go quickly and for him not sweat. Still, Bilbo allows himself a few quick peeks in her direction as he goes to get more tea from time to time, his cheeks flushing as he tears his gaze away.

As the hour finally approaches, he watches the office slowly clear out and makes his way carefully over to her desk. He coughs once, rocking back on his heels. “Are we-,” Another quick, nervous cough, “Would you still like to go out, Ms. Banks? If you’re busy or, or tired, I completely understand.”

“Thank you.” Poppy really does appreciate his discretion. Appreciates a lot about him, actually, now that she thinks about it. – his sensible sweaters and the way his nose twitches sometimes when he’s staring off at something, usually his laptop, lost in thought. The fact that she notices these tiny details should clue her in to the fact that there might be something more here than a simple office infatuation. Should be, but it isn’t. She’s unaware, focused on her next project, her big interview. She’s almost blissfully oblivious– almost because of the way her heart seems to leap when he turns and mentions their coffee date.

“… t-that’d work! – you pickin’ me up, I mean. That’d be okay.” It would be much more than okay, but she’s not going to tell him that. After all, he looks frightened enough as it is. It’ll really startle him that she’s headed the same way: for the door. And now they’re both between the frame. Poppy reaches somewhat blindly for the handle, eyes still fixed on the other.

“You’re-, you’re certain then? That’d be alright?” She seems nervous now, a rare change from the confidence she easily exuded. Is that a good sign? A bad sign? Bilbo finds himself staring, more or less stuck aside her as they both reach for the door handle.

“Oh-, I’m,” He coughs, stepping to the side, “I suppose I’m in your way, aren’t I?” A hint of a nervous laugh escapes him and there’s a tiny lock of blonde hair that’s escaping her ponytail. He finds himself staring at it, just a slip of bright hair, but before he knows what he’s doing, he tucks it behind her ear. “Thursday it is, then.”

Poppy waves a hand as if to dismiss the mere thought of being undermined for her romantic pursuits. “Don’t worry about me,” she says, shrugging a shoulder. “M’very good at makin’ sure people take me seriously. I do it every bloody day of my life,” she assures him with another wry grin. “I’ve actually got an interview next week,” she adds after a short pause. “… ‘course, I’d appreciate it f’you’d not tell… anyone.” Now she’s sharing secrets, is she?

“Balance. Yeah,” she mutters, nodding in agreement, though she’s looking at him again– thinking. “– I should probably get back to my desk.” Probably.

He blinks, his stomach suddenly dropping at the thought of her not being...around, here. “No, not a word! Course’ not.” It occurs to him then that she’s half the reason he’s been showing up to work, to catch small glimpses of her on the way to meetings, trips to the break room.

Bilbo turns to leave then, hands nervously folding into themselves, but as he steps away he works up the courage to look over his shoulder one last time. “And would, maybe Thursday works for you? I...I can pick you up, if you want, meet you somewhere if that’d be easier.”

martinfreemanstyle-deactivated2

#WHAT A DWEEB

“So, what you’re sayin’ is that snoggin’ against the copy machine isn’t professional?” Poppy asks, hands resting casually on either hip. She’s just kidding, of course, and a smirk is very much present, but there’s a hint of something else in her eyes. Perhaps she likes the idea of snogging him against the copy machine– snogging him in general, really. Hm.

“… I appreciate that, Mister Baggins. The path to a truly successful career involves balancing snoggin’ and work, yeah?” … another smirk, this one just as michievous as the first. In all seriousness, she feels exceptionally passionate about her field of work. This internship is a means to an end– that end being a professional career in journalism. She’s on her way to the top, one copy at a time.

He chokes on his own breath, shaking his head very readily. “I-, I don’t want anyone to not take you serously, Ms. Banks. You’re a very good journalist, as I said.” Just how does she know exactly what to say to get him stuttering again like a fool.

“.......,” Bilbo stares, vaguely dumbfounded, then stammers out a quick, “Y-yes, I happen to think so,” Not that he’s any sort of proper snogging since the incident in the copy room in years, but she doesn’t need to know that. (Though he knows she’s probably guessed it). “Balance is very good, in-...all sorts of things and-, and life, of course.”

“That’s so,” Poppy confirms with a gentle nod of her head, hands dropping slowly back to her sides. They’re both blushing now– he’s considerably darker than she, of course, but what does it matter? All she knows now is that she needs to stop looking at his mouth. Definitely needs to stop doing that.

“… I’ll try not to be a distraction, me,” she finally says after a long moment of silence, chewing at her bottom lip. “No promises, f’course.”

“G-, that’s good,” He murmurs shyly, rocking back on his heels and anxiously shuffling his piled of stapled papers, “And I’ll do my best not to get in your way. The goal is to look professional, after all.”

With that, another torrent of memories of their snogging floods his mind and he coughs. “We...I don’t think we should tell you anyone. About-, well, all of this.” Whatever it was, Bilbo knew he liked it very much despite his present nervousness. “I don’t want people to think you’re only here to, er, snog, Ms. Banks. I’ve seen your work, it’s exceptional.”

The blonde places a hand over her heart, looking as though she’s been dealt a terrible blow. The look of mock-offense on her face is worthy of awards. “Me? Bad luck?” One hand rests on a jutted hip and she just stands there for a moment, expression softening as she watches him. “Maybe I am,” she eventually relents with a sheepish smile, taking a step forward. She stills his hands with her own and carefully plucks the staple from the stack of papers.

“But since making copies happens to be a large part of what I do here,” she starts with a slight, apologetic shrug, “I’ll be here fairly often. Just a warnin’.”

Bilbo freezes at the touch of her hands, comforted by their warmth and softness, but equally nervous at the furious beating of his own heart. He’s not like to pass out now, or at least vomit any more, but all the same he’s decidedly confused. He was..he was-, well, he just was. He wore sweater vests and sometimes got an espresso instead of coffee when he was feeling particularly adventures.

He was, by definition, not the sort Poppy should be hoping to run into in copy rooms.

“Is that so?” He musters up the courage to smile at her, running a tongue over his lips. “Don’t think I’d mind that, so long as you don’t distract me and I end up stapling everything the wrong bloody way.” But he says it as a sort of invitation, a pleasant offer.

And she did like it. Kissing him. Liked it so much that it rendered her speechless in the moments after Bilbo stormed out of the copy room– left her standing there with her mouth agape, in fact. His confession is… endearing. It’s relieving, too, and for the life of her, Poppy can’t figure out why. She’s glad he’s not been snogging Lobelia or anyone else, for that matter. She’s glad he’s snogging her.

“I don’t think you’re a predator of any sort, Mister Baggins,” she replies after a moment, a shy smile creeping onto her face. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, y’know. You also stapled those upside down,” she says with a soft laugh as she gestures towards his stack of copies.

He sighs a breath of relief. Bilbo hadn’t expected he’d been anything less than abysmal at hiding his clear nervousness, but upon knowing she can see it full well, he grows just a tinge more relaxed. “I think I look horrendous and-, and perhaps a bit sweaty, but I will gladly accept the compliment.”

Sighing upon seeing his copies, he fiddles with the staple to try and attempt it once more. “I swear, you keep meeting me in the copy room and I’ll have all my papers ruined, Ms. Banks.” Bilbo wouldn’t mind that, not really, and in turn it’d give him more excuses to return here. “Practically a bad luck charm, you are.” With that, he finally musters the courage to meet her gaze and smiles.

“You’ll break his poor heart,” she jokes with a little pout before her bottom lip once again catches between her teeth and she nibbles. The young, fresh-faced intern and Bilbo Baggins, copy-man and worrier extraordinaire– oh, how people will talk. That bothersome secretary… what’s her name? Lobelia. She’ll have a field day with an office romance. Not that Poppy cares much, but she isn’t sure how the other feels about it. He’s practically her boss. He’s practically her boss and she wants to snog him again. Oh dear.

“.. don’t exactly?” she asks with a wry smile. “Does that mean I’m the exception? Kisses for copies?” She’s kidding– of course she’s kidding, but she really doesn’t mind the sound of it. It seems like compensation enough.

God. He swallows hard, struggling to tear his gaze away from her lips, a torrent of memories from yesterday flooding over him. “I-, yes! Goodness, yes, you were the exception! I’m not some...some sort of predator, Miss Banks!” Bilbo defends himself swiftly, confused by the mixture of guilt and excitement in him. After all, given all she’d so far, it seemed Poppy very nearly liked it? Had liked kissing him?

“Yes, you are the only intern I’ve ever snogged, and the only person I’ve ever snogged in the copy room, or in the work place at all.”

#poppybanks #LOBELIA THO

“I don’t!” Poppy blurts, biting down hard on her bottom lip mere seconds after the words leave her out. A nervous chuckle follows and her gaze drops to her toes for a brief moment before it flickers back up to the other’s face. “… I don’t mind at all. I’m glad to know you don’t corner the lot of us,” she teases, the corners of her lips tugging up into a somewhat sly smile. “Can’t really picture you with Charles, but he does make a good cup of coffee.” She moves to stand beside him and removes his stack of copies from the machine.

“… quite a bit, huh?” she asks as she hands him the documents, one brow hiking to her hairline.

He glances down at his feet at that, rocking back on his heels before fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. “No. Just-, just you, I’m afraid.” And truly only her. He’d never even considered snogging anyone in...well, a good long while, much less a intern.

Bilbo snorts, straightening his spine and absently stapling a stack of papers, solely searching for something to do aside from blush like an idiot. “Not my type, unfortunately, I’m certain he’ll be upset to hear it.” He swallows hard, nervous again, but musters his courage with a small nod. “Yes. I-, believe it or not, I don’t exactly make a habit of kissing anyone by the copy machine.”

Is the notion really so shocking? She takes another step forward– a rather brave one at that. He’s… flabbergasted. He seems to be short-circuiting. Is it so hard to believe? Poppy’s the one squinting now, although a warm smile remains and isn’t very likely to fade anytime soon. His inability to comprehend the idea is largely endearing in a way.

“Very serious, yeah. An’ you… like me, don’t you? Or do you snog all the interns who make you copies?” – it’s a joke, Bilbo, don’t worry.

He stare at her as if she’s no less than a wonder, which she is, of course, and Bilbo doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything half so lovely as her smile. “I-,...yes, I do like you. Quite a bit, in fact, or I’d not have-, have kissed you yesterday.” It was terribly out of sorts for him, that, and he reckons he must have been mad for it, or quite possibly that she’s mad now.

Bilbo chokes again at her comment, turning a very deep shade of red and swiftly shaking his head. “No-, no.” Despite his shock, he finds a small hint of a smile beginning to appear. “I’d love to take you out sometime, if you don’t mind. I-, I’d understand why you would, of course, but if you don’t-”

Poppy can hardly believe what she’s hearing– she’s also impressed with Bilbo’s apparent knack for nervous rambling! She indulges on occasion, but right now, she is determined to get her point across. “Bilbo– Bilbo, stop,” she pleads, holding up a delicate finger. “I’m not askin’ you for an apology, I’m askin’ you for a date,” she explains, taking a small step forward. However, when she opens her mouth again, she suddenly feels a little smaller, a little less confident. She continues on, nonetheless– be brave.

“… I, um… I like you. Very much. I’d like to… I dunno’, see you outside of work? For coffee or dinner or… anythin’, really. –I like you.”

#poppybanks #U DONE BROKE HIM

He finally manages to silence himself, biting down on his lip with the effort. He hasn’t realized until now how fiercely his heart his pounding and he’s very nearly certain she can hear, but then Bilbo is decidedly certain he’s misheard her. “You-,....you what?”

Bilbo squints, rocks back on his heels, and stares all the more. “Are-, are you serious?” He rubs the side of his jaw, unapologetically dumbfounded. “You-, are you sick, Poppy? I mean, no-, you don’t look it, I don’t mean that but-,” He inhales sharply, “Are you serious?”

“… was a bit unprofessional, wasn’t it?” Poppy nods in agremeent. “Good kiss, though. Maybe not as far as the office’s concerned, but… s’all right.” She clears her throat. He seems to be positively terrified of her– is she so frightening he can’t bear to look? That’s certainly a first. “Yeah, not really appropriate in an office, settin’. It’d be better in a… cinema. Or, um, maybe that nice Italian place just ‘cross the way. Might be all right there.”

“It-, it was horrifically unprofessional, Ms. Banks,” He shakes his head quickly, firmly, “Nothing less than a frightful abuse of power, that. I-”

Bilbo manages to lose all train of thought as she continues, simply staring as his jaw very nearly drops. “I-,...I don’t quite know what you’re getting at, but yes-. I...Those sorts of things are only acceptable outside the workplace, and I do understand that, I truly do. You...you needn’t worry about that. I am truly, utterly sorry, Ms. Banks.”

#poppybanks #SCREAMIN

“You snogged me.” Well, there it is– blurted and out in the open and Poppy, remarkably enough, is standing quite tall. Her cheeks have only flushed to a light shade of pink. “Here. Yesterday. I asked you if you needed more computer paper and you kissed me.” As if he doesn’t remember. As if he needs a reminder. She’s really just trying to make sense of it.

He chokes at that, his already dark flush only deepening, and if there had been a window available he suspects he would gladly have jumped out of it. But no, Bilbo has nowhere to flee, and instead looks at absolutely anything he can but her. “I....,” Well, he can’t exactly deny it. “I did. And-, and I shouldn’t have. It was terribly inappropriate of me and-, woefully unprofessional and I am terribly sorry for it.” He coughs, adding a small nod before hurriedly turning back to face the copier.

A long moment passes. Poppy shifts on the balls of her heels before she leans back against the wall and folds her arms. Steady. “… are you gonna’ press the button, or…?”

He blinks, releasing instantly that the file is just sitting there, and flushes a dark red. Bilbo swiftly presses the button, coughing as it finally copies and gestures vaguely towards it, “You? Er, you want to use it? I’ll, I just need a minute.”