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swanderful1 · 6 years ago

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Ambient Light: Ch 1/?

Summary: The year is 1952, and one of Broadway’s most creative minds Killian Jones has just returned to New York from a self-imposed exile armed with what he believes to be his most ambitious production yet. But with his entire reputation riddled with scandal, the success of the show is imperative. And for that he needs to perfect star to bring his dreams to life. He just never expected to find someone as captivating as Emma Swan.

Note: Sooooooo this one I’ve had on the mind for a long time and didn’t necessarily have the confidence to move forward with it until recently. It’s quite different than most of my writing but is deeply fun to write. So please enjoy the first FULL CHAPTER it’s about 4,500 words. Read the prologue and follow along on AO3 and ffnet.

Per usual thank you to my sweet sweet patient beta @resident-of-storybrooke and @onceuponaprincessworld for not giving up on me.

December 1949: New York has high hopes for the return of Liam and Killian Jones. While the pair of brothers is considered to be responsible for Broadway’s golden age, their four most recent works were critical and financial disappointments riddled with outside controversy. It has been 3 years since the two worked together on a show and the whole town is watching in anticipation to see the return of an original Jones production.

The New York Times, Will Scarlett

December in New York City. It was unlike anything Emma had ever experienced. The loud, bustling streets. The Christmas lights strung from every pole. The energy of a place where everything was happening. It was a long way from her small Pennsylvania home. And it was fairly often, in the three months since she had moved here, that she wondered if she was completely in over her head.

“Blue or purple?” Elsa asked holding up two sequined dresses. Drawing Emma’s gaze away from the singular window in their apartment. On the street below the snow covered the sidewalks and lined the streets. It had started hours ago and showed no signs of slowing down.

“Elsa there’s absolutely no way we’re making it to Nell’s tonight,” Emma had always been tough but she doubted her ability to trek the 20 blocks to work in this snow.

“Nell’s doesn’t close for anything, Em.” Elsa held the blue up in front of her. Long ice blonde hair was tied loosely in a braid down her back. She had been one of the first people Emma had met when she moved to New York. “I think the blue.”

“Always the blue,” Emma smiled and stood from her unmade, lumpy twin bed. She, Elsa, and Elsa’s sister Anna shared a 1 room apartment on the Upper West Side. It was cramped and most of the time a mess, but it was $18 a week and just about all of them could afford on a cocktail waitress income. “Are you actually going to talk to him tonight?”

Elsa froze, Emma could see the tension in her friend’s body the second she even mentioned Liam Jones.

“He comes in every Saturday night, always sits in your section…” Emma zipped her friend into the form fitting sequin dress. The high neck only elongated her figure. And her bright blue eyes were enhanced by its shimmer. “And you always blush when I bring him up.”

“What in the world would Liam Jones want with someone like me?”

Emma rolled her eyes. The day her best friend started recognizing herself as a catch would be the day Hell froze over.

“I know I know, we do this every week.” Elsa spun to face Emma.

“And when will you start listening to me?”

“Probably never!” called a voice from the closet. The one small, shared closet the three girls had was overflowing with cocktail dresses and jackets and clothes that operated on a rotational basis between Elsa, Anna, and Emma. “Don’t feel bad Emma she doesn’t listen to me either.”

Anna emerged from the closet wearing a slinky black dress, it had been Emma’s when she moved to the city and was on its last threads. But it worked for the dark, seedy bar serving drinks to finance guys and their mistresses. That was the kind of place Nell’s was.

“I’ll wear the red,” Emma finally said throwing on the dress Elsa had tossed on her bed. Though her tips were often completely based on how much effort she put into her appearance, she couldn’t force herself to care. No matter what she would freeze on their walk to the bar, and her hair would curl under the falling snow.

Twenty minutes and several layers of make up later Emma found herself walking, no sliding, down the sidewalk toward Nell’s. She thought about turning back several times. But something propelled her forward. Some unknown force out there that made her want to charge ahead. Little did she know it was a night that would change her entire life. And despite her razor sharp intuition, no amount of awareness could have warned her of it.

Nell’s was packed, Emma had never seen it like this before. The unassuming Lower West Side bar was a staple for people who didn’t want to be seen. It was tucked away on a lonely side street and you had to walk down a flight of stairs to get inside. Haphazard pictures of patrons from years prior lined the walls. The green shades over the hanging lights gave the place a dim hue where you could still see the person near you but not so bright that it wrecked the mood. It was an intimate place, for secret affairs and new quiet love. It wasn’t much, but it was a job. And Emma needed a job desperately. Especially one that allowed her time during the days to go to auditions.

“Why is it so packed? In this weather I thought no one would brave it,” Emma said through chattering teeth as she shimmied out of her black wool coat.

“Look over there,” Elsa pointed. At one of the tables reserved for the high rollers at the poker ring that operated underground down the street sat Liam Jones and someone else Emma had never seen before.

“Who’s that?” she asked assessing the dark figure sitting next to the regular.

“I think… I could be wrong but that looks like the other Jones brother.”

“Liam has a brother?” Emma tried to recognize any family resemblance between the two. Surface wise, the only similarity was that they both wore well tailored suits. Where Liam was light Killian was dark. Liam with his curly brown hair, Killian with jet black hair in the dim light of the bar. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared out toward the stage. The scruff on his face highlighting an angular jaw.

“Yeah, that’s definitely him. I saw a picture of him in the Times,” Anna whispered. “He’s back.”

“Um… where was he?” The way Anna said ‘he’s back’ sounded so ominous to Emma. Like wherever he had been had not been a good place.

“Exiled to London.” Anna said as she stacked drinks on a small round tray. Most were amber liquid in straight looking glasses. “He left three years ago to avoid a massive scandal.”

“What scandal was too big for New York?” Emma asked, polishing the glasses behind the bar.

“Have you honestly never heard of the Jones brothers?” Elsa asked incredulously, tossing her braid over her shoulder as she put away the glasses Emma polished. “They wrote Lullaby, and A Lonely Night in New York. They produced Carousel, they were original investors in Oklahoma…”

“Broadway royalty. Everything they touched turned to gold,” Anna chimed in. Like it was so unbelievable that Emma had no clue what it meant to be in a room with the Jones brothers.

“Then what happened?” Emma asked, eyeing the other Jones as coolly as she could. There was an arrogance to him. She could tell from here. His aloofness penetrated a one hundred foot radius around him. He rubbed his jaw and then his eyes, looking even more bored than when she first noticed him. Elitist.

“What always happens? He had an affair… with this woman who was married to one of the wealthiest men in Manhattan. Conveniently that man had been funding most of their productions. And then when he found out he pulled the plug. On everything.”

“Their next 3 shows flopped and Killian left the city to ride out the scandal in London where they’re from. But I guess now he’s back.”

Back he was, though Emma had no idea he had ever been here before. A string of young women moved in and out of the table. It was a seat in the house everyone wanted. Next to two of the most powerful people in theater. Well, formerly powerful.

Emma busied herself with all of her tables. As singer after singer went on stage she wondered if she ever might get up there. Even in this dark, dank venue where there weren’t more than forty people it still seemed like the best possible place to be. On that stage. Underneath the glow of the lights. She watched as the man on stage crooned to the words of a slow, whimsical tune.

I get along without you very well, of course I do. Except when soft rains fall

Stage fright had plagued her for as long as she could remember. The fear of being watched and observed on a stage. But at the same time it fueled her. Every choice she made in her life was to get closer to being up there.

And drip from the leaves, then I recall The thrill of being sheltered in your arms

The song was one Emma recognized from her childhood. Pennsylvania seemed so far away from where she was in this moment. Lost in watching this man perform on a small stage with nothing but a piano and a microphone. He was older than Emma, with a smooth voice and light hair. A boyish look to his face that didn’t match his mature singing voice.

I’ve forgotten you just like I should Of course I have Except to hear your name

Emma wiped down tables as she moved through the room. Dodging customers she knew wanted their privacy, engaging with those who loved to talk her ear off. Careful to avoid the ones who felt the need to grab her. It wasn’t until the song stopped that she realized someone was trying to get her attention.

“Miss?” a light English accent lilted from a few feet away. And Emma had locked gazes with the most striking pair of blue eyes she had ever seen.

“Yes?” she managed to say despite her embarrassment being caught lost in the song.

“Can I have another whiskey? Neat?”

“Sure.” Emma walked over to the table where Killian Jones now sat, alone, and grabbed his empty cup. “Any particular kind?”

“Doesn’t matter, love,” he said dismissively. She could hardly see him around the cloud of smoke. There was always a light layer of smoke in the club, the aroma of cigarettes. But the air around Killian Jones was extra cloudy.

As she moved away she watched Liam approach with another young woman following closely behind. She couldn’t have been much older than Emma. Short red hair. A heavy face of painted on make-up. A fur coat that likely cost more than Emma would make in a year. The girl sat on the end of the booth, right next to Killian.

“Earth to Emma.”

“Huh?” Emma snapped out of her staring just in time to watch the whiskey spill over the sides of the glass. “Damn it.”

“Something interesting over there?” Anna teased. Though there was no way she could have known where Emma was looking, the bar was too dark for that. “Do you need a minute?”

“I’m fine, just a little tired is all.”

“Well, take it easy, okay?” Anna swapped out the spilled glass of whiskey with a fresh one. Poured perfectly. “Here. And take a break if you need one.”

Emma watched as Anna navigated between tables to serve a loud group of men sitting opposite the stage. For the most part, the bar was a quiet place, for discrete types. Crowded. But quiet. Every now and again they would get a raucous group of people.

Silently, Emma sat the drink down on the table in front of Killian. Trying not to make eye contact with him and slink away into the dark.

“Excuse me?” the woman sitting next to him piped up just as Emma was about to turn her back. “I’ll have whatever he had.”

Emma eyed the woman up and down. And while she tried to be demure, lovely at work she knew her expression had to appear with disbelief.

“A whiskey… neat?” Emma scoffed.

The woman looked at her like she couldn’t believe the audacity of a cocktail waitress to make any kind of comment that was anything less than directly accommodating.

“Sorry, uh, coming right up.” Emma was about to turn when she caught sight of a smirk on the broodier Jones’ face. Or at least she thought it was a smirk.

After several more runs back and forth to the bar, Emma checked the time. Midnight. Her feet were killing her in the heels she had to wear. It was why she preferred to work behind the bar. At least then she could wear flats. But she Elsa, and Anna switched off and tonight was Elsa’s night to be off the floor. Which Liam Jones did not seem to be thrilled with.

“I can’t take them anymore,” Anna sighed setting down her tray on the bar. It had been a few hours of working now and the initial facade of polite flirtation had faded. The girls were now lingering dangerously close to counting their tips in their head and envisioning their walk home.

“What?” Emma asked pouring another round of whisky for the Jones table. This was their third round but the men were still uncharacteristically stiff around one another. Like they weren’t even brothers.

“That table over there…”

“HEY HONEY!” a loud voice yelled her way. Emma looked over and of course it was the table Anna was now hiding behind the bar avoiding.

“I’ve got it,” Emma nodded, before handing the tray of whiskey to Anna. “Take this to the broadway royalty table please. They’re boring me.”

“What can I get for you?” Emma said in the sweetest voice she could muster once she reached the disruptive group of men. Given the circumstances.

“Another round for the table, and something stiff for you as well,” the man at the head commented. He wore a wrinkled suit and with some sort of grease stain down the front. And his leering gaze made Emma highly uncomfortable despite the fact that she was fully clothed. His rounded chubby face was red from drink and his dirty hands wrapped around his pitcher, draining what was left into his mouth. When he set the cup back down Emma noticed a wedding ring on his finger. Somewhere out there he had a wife.

“Coming right up,” she gritted through her teeth.

Emma spun on her heel and walked heavily to another table. But her eyes kept finding Killian Jones.

It wasn’t a feeling she normally succumbed to. Intrigue. Most people were plain as day to her, motives clear. But for whatever reason she wondered about this man. Compared to the other tables filled with groups now feeling the effects of a night of drinking, he stuck out. Liam was now over at the bar, trying desperately to capture Elsa’s attention. And the girl who had been with them was boredly watching the next performer on stage.

As Killian Jones’ eyes were locked with hers, he drained the glass in his hand and set it gently down on the table.

“Can I get you another?” she asked when her feet carried her right to him. Emma supposed she was desperate to avoid the rowdy table she had walked away from.

“Actually no, I am here on a specific mission,” he said smoothly. Despite the loudness of the bar he didn’t need to yell for her to hear him loud and clear. He was handsome up close, arrogant to be sure but handsome nevertheless.

“Most people come in because they’re lonely. Or trying to hide someone.” Nell’s had certainly seen its fair share of affairs. Emma wondered if Killian had come here with the woman he had an affair with.

“Actually, love, neither of those are my purpose for being here.” He leaned back in the booth his arms, the air thick with his arrogance.

“Ah, I see you two have found each other,” said Liam who seemingly appeared out of nowhere with two glasses of whatever the man at the table was drinking. “Emma Swan this is Killian Jones, Killian this is Emma.”

The man with the blue eyes kept his gaze on her. Not in a way that made her feel violated, the way the men at the big table had. No, the way this Killian Jones looked at her was analytical. Not that she minded.

“Emma, Killian is my brother. Back from a long trip home to London. And we are in a bit of a jam.” Liam resumed his place next to his brother just as the girl next to Killian scurried off toward one of the bouncers who had just walked in. “We are looking to cast our next show.”

“Oh?” Emma was intrigued. Why would two people who could cast anyone they want, look in a hole in the wall bar for their show?

“We hear there are quite a few talented people who perform here regularly. And we’re looking for someone no one’s heard of yet.” Liam said pouring some champagne into three flutes. He was a kind man, Liam was. He knew every cocktail waitress by name and tipped generously. “Do you have a favorite?”

“Hmm…” Emma thought for a moment. She worked most nights of the week and each night there was a string of new performers. However Saturday was the busiest. “Well you’re here a good night. Saturday is typically the strongest lineup. Gino’s up next, he’s amazing plus he plays the saxophone.”

Liam took the third champagne flute and offered it to Emma, who politely waved it away. She didn’t enjoy drinking on the clock. It made her slower.

“Tanya goes on around 1 and she can really keep a crowd. She’s new. From Jersey.”

“Hey honey, I thought you were getting us another round!” the grotesque group of men she had served before encountering Killian and Liam called to her.

“Excuse me,” she said to the brothers before briskly walking away.

“It’s busy tonight, I was distracted,” she replied without thinking once she reached the other table. .

“Maybe if I was as pretty as your boyfriend over there I could have your attention,” the red-faced man at the head seat said.

“He is not my boyfriend,” Emma bit back. Her tolerance for disrespect fading fast.

“Oh yeah?” he grabbed her, pulled her up against him.

His chubby arms engulfing her entire waist. Emma squirmed at the contact, pressed to him she could smell the liquor seeping through his sweat. He half pressed her body against the edge of the table which kept her in place.

“Then why is he walking over here right now? Huh?”

Emma’s head turned slightly, the only part of her body not encased in this man’s disgusting grasp. Sure enough Killian Jones was walking toward them. His face hardened into a glare. What did he think he was going to do? Save her? My, my how noble of him.

Emma let him get a little closer, until Killian was only a few feet away. That was when she moved. Her leg that was pressed against the table was secure for leverage, the other was free to move. Or more appropriately it was free to stomp on her aggressor’s foot with the heel of her shoe.

When he bent over in pain he bumped her chin and she bit clean through her lip. Emma felt the blood begin to ooze from her as he somehow had the audacity to cling to her for support. She lifted her knee and hit him in the crotch, fully releasing herself from his grasp. Still bent over she slammed his head into the wooden table and he fell to the floor. Emma stepped away from the keening man. Not another soul at that table dare approach her. The only one who did was Killian Jones.

“I tried to get here fast enough, I’m sorry, love,” he said in the most charming tone she had ever heard.

“It’s alright.” Emma used her sleeve to wipe the blood from her lip, ever the lady. “I don’t make a habit of waiting for other people to save me.”

She wasn’t sure if he was impressed by her or scared of her. Most of the other men around were twice her size but in no way did they press her. Killian’s reaction was different though, he appeared almost amused as he reached into his pocket and handed her a linen cloth.

“Emma what happened?” Anna’s soft voice drew Emma out of her anger. The friendly faced redhead with her hair braided in two pulled Emma toward her.

“Just Johnny getting too cosy with me again without my consent,” Emma spit the remaining blood from her mouth onto the floor near where he lay, then daintily gave the handkerchief back to Killian. “Thank you for your token, Mr. Jones. But as you can see I am quite alright.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” The smirk on his face was evident despite the effort he was making to disguise it.

With that Killian was off, bowing gracefully and leaving her presence. Emma watched him as he sauntered back to his table.

Her eyes remained on him even as she followed the two sisters to the stockroom.

“What was that?” Anna whisper yelled, shoving Emma down to a stack of boxes. “Are you crazy? That man was twice your size.”

“I still won,” Emma said spitting out more blood onto the floor. She could taste the crimson in her mouth and it only made her more angry.

“Not the point,” Elsa bent down to wipe her friend’s mouth with a wet rag. She was gentler than her sister but Emma could still see concern. “There is security for a reason.”

“If I had waited for security he would have won.”

Elsa rolled her eyes as she continued to wipe Emma clean. There were a few times when Emma was grateful for the heels. This moment was one of them. Imagine trying to stomp out someone in a sensible flat.

“Did Liam talk to you?” Elsa asked after a few minutes and Anna had gone back out to tame the dwindling crowd. The clock said it was nearing 2 am now, which meant the night was almost over. “I told him you’re an actress, you know, they’re trying to cast their next show.”

“You what?”

“Em, this could be your big break!”

“What about you? Or anyone else?” Emma’s nerves kicked in. Somehow she could reduce a grown man to crying on the floor, but getting up on stage. It still freaked her out.

“Come on… you know how talented you are. It’s why you’re here.” Elsa stood, reaching out her hand. They had hid away long enough. “At least go audition. See what happens.”

Emma paused a moment. Looking around at the shelves lined with liquor bottles and glassware. The ice bucket overturned in the corner. It was so dingey and worn. The whole place was. And, as far as Emma was concerned, it was good money. When you grow up with no money, anything is good. But did she really move to New York to stand still?

“Alright, but if you don’t get moving soon you may end up here the rest of your life. Kneeing men in the crotch until you’re 90.”

“Maybe that’s what I want,” Emma joked. Her friend smiled back at her, the bone structure of Elsa’s face was so fair and dainty. Every angle, even the fluorescent light in the stock room, was flattering. The two girls walked arm and arm back out to the floor to work the remainder of the night.

And thankfully the table of men who harassed Emma had gone.

The remaining hour of Emma’s shift was far less eventful, the tables had mostly cleared. The space was quieter. And she watched as the last performer of the night left the stage. She could officially go home.

Outside the snow had stopped but the ground was still slush and the air was still cold. There was something so peaceful about the middle of the night after a snowstorm. Especially in New York. During the day this street was full of life, people, cabs. But right now it was scarce. The quiet pocket of the city was like a secret. One that only the patrons of Nell’s knew about.

Emma was waiting for Anna and Elsa to finish up when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Emma Swan, was it?” the smooth english accent hit her like a brisk wind. “How’s your lip?”

For the first time she got a good look at him. Killian Jones. Who was considerably taller than her. And much too pretty to be anything but a sculpture.

“I’ll live,” she joked, as she felt it with her tongue she realized it would probably be swollen in the morning. Well, it already was the morning.

“You know I’ve been in a lot of bars before and never seen anything quite like that.”

“Glad you got to see the show.”

“Emma! We’re freezing!” Anna called from a few feet away. Emma had been so distracted again by Killian Jones she had hardly noticed her friends were ready for the walk home.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jones,” Emma said, daintily, extending her hand to shake his.

“You as well, Swan.” He nodded, taking her hand in his and shaking. The small gesture one that brought a slight smile to her numb from the cold face. She thought he might add ‘I hope to see you again’ but he didn’t. Which was probably for the best.

Though the night was freezing cold, there was a fire burning beneath her skin from where her hand had met Killian’s. She couldn’t quite pin it, the feeling that lingered in the pit of her stomach, but her intuition about going into work had been right. As Elsa, Anna and Emma walked arm in arm back to their little apartment, Emma smiled. Vowing to ice her lip when she got home.

It was a night, an encounter that would change her life, and the fire beneath her skin was only the beginning.

#cs ff au #cs ff #captain swan #captain swan fanfiction #cs au #cs fic #cs fanfics #emma swan #killian jones

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swanderful1 · 6 years ago

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I'm so glad Duplicity is back! It's such a fantastic story, and I'm waiting on pins and needles to see what happens next! Thank you for writing! 😍😍😍

Awwww this warms my heart. Thank you so much for liking it and being patient while i didn’t update! So happy to be writing again, and hope to update soon :)

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swanderful1 · 6 years ago

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ALSO I am writing another story, (it’s v different than the others) so feel free to give that a read ☺️

Ambient Light

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2mk59rn

by swanderful1

The year is 1952, and one of Broadway’s most creative minds Killian Jones has just returned to New York from a self-imposed exile armed with what he believes to be his most ambitious production yet. But with his entire reputation riddled with scandal, the success of the show is imperative. And for that he needs to perfect star to bring his dreams to life. He just never expected to find someone as captivating as Emma Swan.

Words: 1134, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Angst, Broadway, Golden Age Hollywood

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2mk59rn

#CS fanfics #Captain Swan #cs au ff

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swanderful1 · 6 years ago

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Duplicity: Ch 12/?

Summary: Secrets shroud the homes of the idyllic Willow Lane. Its newest resident, Emma Swan is no exception. In a place where perception is everything, the facade begins to crack. And Emma finds herself staring down the deep, dark secrets that the neighborhood was built on and that nothing is as it seems. Not even the blue eyed gardener.

Notes: If anyone's still out there, here is chapter 12!!! Thanks so much for all of the support and understanding. Writing a second story while also going through some pretty massive changes in my life has been so hard. And it often knocks out my creative energy all together. But I was able to write this (over several months unfortunately) and hope to continue to do so.

Shout out as always to my angels: my beta @resident_of_storybrooke, @shady-swan-jones for the artwork and @onceuponaprincessworld who always checks in and supports my long and excessive writing process.

Read the whole GD thing on AO3 and FFnet.

Killian could hardly believe his eyes as he stared at the name on the paper. He closed them tightly and reopened again. Bent the paper into the light from the window. Put it down and walked away only to refocus seconds later but the print stayed the same. The amount stayed the same. And from those two very convenient elements he could assume only one thing.

Cora Mills was his mother’s step-sister. Which made her his step-aunt. Which was so insane to him he sat down on the corner of the bed to process it. The paper still in his hand as he stared straight ahead at the mess on the desk.

Had Liam known? Of course he had to have known, the marriage license and the check left conveniently close to one another. Killian ran his hand through his hair, clutching tightly to his scalp as if that would keep him from experiencing the throbbing headache that had appeared out of nowhere.

When his father died, years ago, the shotgun to the back of his head, a part of Killian was gone with him. And then shortly after, his mother being locked away for being the one responsible for his father’s death, another part of Killian left. Liam’s passing was yet another piece of him that disappeared. He had resigned himself to believe there was no family ties for him left in this town. Now to come to the realization that of all people, he could possibly be related to the very woman he suspected was tied to the Gold family.

“Bloody hell,” he mumbled to no one but himself. There was no one else to mumble to. The only people who could potentially relate to his in any capacity were gone. One dead. One in prison.

Then he thought of Emma.

Certainly he could tell her, couldn’t he? Though he had sufficiently muddied up that situation as well. She had all but stormed out of the room the night before. So quick he could barely get his thoughts together to tell her why he didn’t want to have her in that room.

How he wanted her so badly but couldn’t fathom doing it in the same spot he had lost himself. It was complicated, and while he wanted to explain that to her he also didn’t want to overwhelm her. After all, they hadn’t known each other all that long and he knew Emma didn’t open her heart to just anyone. If that was where she thought of him.

Killian looked at his phone. There were no new messages, no missed calls. Of course Emma had his number but he knew better than to expect to hear from her. It was only right for him to reach out.

On the third ring she answered. Her smooth voice echoing in his ear. There was a hint of disappointment in her tone.

“What?” was all she said.

“Emma,” Killian didn’t know where to begin. There was so much. Especially as a huge puzzle piece sat in his hands. But to him the most pressing issue felt like he wanted that note of disappointment in her voice gone. Because right now he was the reason for it. “Can we meet somewhere?”

“Why?”

“There are some things I need to talk to you about and I don’t… I don’t necessarily feel comfortable doing it over the phone.”

“I don’t know.”

“Emma, love, I-” He didn’t want to say too much, to mince words or screw things up even worse. But he also wasn’t comfortable with being complacent.

“Neal’s home right now.” She cut him off. “It’ll be harder for me to sneak out.”

“I understand.” He was almost ready for her to hang up. “But it’s essential that we talk in person. There are things I need to explain. I can wait all day. I can wait until tomorrow. But not much longer than that.”

For a few seconds she was silent, and he worried he was too harsh.

“Can you meet at Irwin Park, just after sunset?”

“Of course,” he could hardly mask his relief. It would be several hours before sunset, and he had a lot of digging to do before he saw Emma and would attempt to figure out how all of this connected.

Just before sunset Killian pulled his truck into the parking lot next to Irwin Park. The last of the families were leaving. Tired children carted away in strollers from the playground. A couple walking toward their car with a small dog on a leash. There was a time in Killian’s life when he and Milah would have been that couple. An unassuming looking pair sharing a quiet evening walking around a pond.

After losing his family, Milah was his family. She was everything to him for so long. But then eventually she was gone too.

Killian lost Milah far before she actually died though. In the final months of their relationship she was unrecognizable. Scatterbrained. Paranoid. A ghost of who she once was. In the back of his mind he knew it was the drugs. He knew the cocaine had a lot to do with it. But he also knew there was something else. There were other forces at work that dragged her away from him. With the folder of information he had gathered in his hand, he felt closer than ever to figuring out exactly how all of this was connected. Or if it was connected at all.

Fifteen minutes later, all of the cars had cleared out. The sky was almost entirely dark. The place was desolate, creepy even as the wind caught a swing and blew it in the breeze. Emma’s headlights whipped around the bend to nearly blind Killian as her Range Rover faced his truck.

“Bloody hell,” he threw his arm up to block out the high beams. As capable as Emma seemed to be at most things, driving was not one of them. “Are you trying to blind me?”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, locking her car and walking toward him. Her long hair tied off in a braid. A loose black sweater wrapped around her. Legs shapely in a pair of jeans. He never knew what to expect from her. The stepford wife in elegant party dresses or this version. The stripped down, laid back youthful Emma.

“I was worried you wouldn’t show.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” She stood before him, a few inches away. Her determined green eyes serious even in the dark of the night he could tell. “Some things are more important than… uh…”

“Last night, I want to apologize for,” Killian wanted to reach out and touch her. The way her soft complexion caught the light of the setting sun as she sat in the passenger seat. He could smell her sweet perfume, he was intoxicated by that alone. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t, that I didn’t want you.”

“We don’t have to get into it.” Her body language shifted, and she was stone faced. Serious, almost sad. “There is too much at stake right now, with everything that’s going on.”

He thought she was done, but her pause was because her eyes had begun to brim with tears. It looked like she was biting her tongue, like if she opened her mouth the dam would burst.

“Emma…” he pulled her to him just as the first tear fell. His arms wrapped around her, and she leaned completely into him. Her hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt. Her cheek on his chest as he felt the breath move her spine. In the time Killian had known her, he had never seen her crack. With the immeasurable amount of stress she was under daily she held it all together. Until this very moment. “Darling, breathe.”

“It’s too much.”

“Aye, of course it is.” His hand drew soothing circles along her back, which seemed to calm her just a bit. “I’ve got you.”

She pushed herself up so she was face to face with him but not out of his arms.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he tried. Wiping the tear from her cheek with the back of his finger. Her eyes gently closed, the long dark lashes fluttered to expel the remainder of her tears. The green orbs were vibrant after she had stopped crying, and Killian felt like he could look into them for hours. This was certainly not what he had in mind when he had called her here.

“Not really.” Slowly she released her grip on his shirt, and allowed some distance between them. But their legs still touched and she was still on the center seat instead of the passenger. It was hard for him not to notice that. “I want to talk about my feelings about as much as I want a root canal.”

There was a quiet that settled over them. A lightness for just a moment as Emma calmed and Killian smiled. For a few seconds, while they were the only two in the park, it felt like they were the only two in the world.

“It’s Neal,” she finally said, looking away from him out the windshield to the pink sky. “He was around today. Which was odd, obviously.”

Killian’s good hand still ran along the sleeve of her sweater, massaging a trail up and down that seemed to calm her as she spoke.

“He brought up getting married again, for real.” Emma started to laugh, but it wasn’t the bright one he had come to recognize. It was darker. “I had almost forgotten about all of that. That his plans include locking me in.”

He brushed a lock of hair off of her face with his prosthetic. The pale blonde color tangling in its digits. They were getting closer to Neal wanting to marry her to legitimize him, and even if Emma wanted to she couldn’t leave. Unless she wanted to look over her shoulder for August her whole life.

“Everyday I get closer to this...” she gestured to the ring on her finger. The ostentatious diamond that symbolized her fake marriage. “Closer to this being real.”

Killian had allowed her to speak without interruption, to get all of her feelings out on the table. She trusted him. And he, her. But this time when she paused, she only looked at him. As if she needed him to say something, someone to tell her everything would be okay.

“I will do everything in my power to make sure that doesn’t happen.” Even if his reasons for doing so weren’t entirely pure. There was a large part of him that wanted her to be free, to not have to worry about getting sucked into a loveless marriage or arrested as an accessory to crimes she did not commit. There was also a small, selfish part of him that wanted her all to himself. “I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I would never.” He was going to add ‘you can trust me’ but he realized that she already seemed to. Completely. As she had been so vulnerable with him just now. “Emma I’m just as invested in this as you are.”

“I know,” she smiled. “That’s why it works.”

He smiled back at her, content to relish in that for a while. But he had come here for a reason, and given how upset Emma had just been time was, absolutely, of the essence. As if it hadn’t been before.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Killian finally said when silence had settled over them. “This morning I, uh, I went to Liam’s room for the first time. Since his passing. And I found something.”

This time she allowed him to speak, her eyes wide with concern as he pulled out the folder he had brought along with him.

“It’s a check, from when Liam first started the business years ago. His first check to be precise. And I assumed he had saved it as something of a memento.”

Killian handed Emma the paper. And watched as her eyes ran over it.

“Why in the world was Cora giving your brother $10,000?”

“It’s not just that,” he shifted. Getting ready to open up about another part of him. “The last name on there. Her maiden name, it’s the same as my mother’s.”

“What?!”

“Delaney.” He shifted. Emma knew of his mother, she knew quite a bit about him actually. But he rarely elaborated on that situation. For fear of reopening that wound. “My mother had a step-sister. So my conclusion is that they’re somehow related.”

“Your mom’s never mentioned her?”

“No, my family is a bit… well my mum was estranged from her family. And then when everything happened with my father, that was like the nail in the coffin.”

“Killian…” It was she who reached out for him. Her hand that found his leg. It was such a simple gesture but so comforting to him. It wasn’t often someone knew the whole story.

“I don’t know my grandparents on her side, and certainly not her siblings… obviously not her step siblings.”

“So what does this mean do you think?”

“I don’t know, love, I wish I did.” He laid his hand over hers, almost expecting her to shift away but she didn’t. Instead she leaned closer, her head on his chest, her ear to where his beating heart was. “It’s something I’ll need to address with my mum though.”

“I don’t know much about how families work, but it seems like that’s something she should have told you. Or mentioned.”

“Aye, so it makes me wonder. What all is being covered up, you know?”

“And the $10,000?”

“It doesn’t make sense that Liam would have been given that so early on. Certainly not as a first customer. Unless there was something else tied to that money.”

“Like a secret.”

“Like a deep secret.”

“So what do we do?” she asked, doe eyes and all staring up at him. He indulged again in the luxury of being able to run his fingers through her hair, and examine her bare face. She was stripped down like this, natural. And completely beautiful. “We need to find a weak point. Someone who can give some insight but without realizing they’re doing it.”

“But who?”

“There’s got to be someone Cora doesn’t get along with. Someone who resents her enough to spill on what that lady is up to all day.”

“If there is they’re probably too scared to talk.”

“Someone like her daughter….”

“Regina? Have you met her? She’s like Cora-lite.”

“No. The other one. The one she doesn’t like as much…. Zelena.”

They sat for a while. Until the sun was completely set and the sky was pitch black. The stars were out tonight, and the air was warm. Together Killian and Emma devised a plan. One that would allow access to the pressure point. To Zelena. She was the natural choice. But eventually Emma had to go, she had been missing from her home long enough. And being that Neal was actually home she had to be somewhat around.

“How did you end up sneaking out of the house, if you don’t mind me asking?” Killian wondered aloud.

A wry smile came across Emma’s face, “I dumped all of the milk he uses for his cereal down the drain and said I needed to run out for more.”

“A classic.” He smiled back at her, sometimes the lighter things snuck in between them. And he couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy those moments.

“And about last night…” he started, treading carefully.

“What about last night?” she was serious again. And a wave of guilt crashed over Killian.

“Surely you can’t think I didn’t want to…”

“That was how it seemed to me. We can keep this friendly.”

“Emma,” His hand that was wrapped around her moved to pull her jaw toward him. “Of course I wanted to. I want you.”

Through the dark she stared at him, her eyes searching his face for dishonesty, for a hint of an excuse to counter his declaration.

“But when I have you it won’t be there.” He bent so his lips grazed the shell of her ear. “When I have you it will be somewhere new, fresh. Where you’ll see it and only think of me.”

Her silence was all he needed to hear, the quickening of her breath. She knew it was crazy to think he didn’t want her. She could feel the heat radiating between them now as they sat so close. As his hand ran up the side of her arm to cup her cheek.

Closing the gap between them his lips met hers, passionate. Assertive. It was the kind of kiss that left no room for the imagination. Whatever he was feeling for her, all of the desire he felt he poured into it.

“Now tell me, Emma, do you truly want to keep this ‘friendly’?”

Unblinking, she gulped. “No.”

“I didn’t think so.”

Emma sat stunned for a few seconds before righting herself and preparing to leave the truck.

“I’ll um, I’ll see you Saturday then,” she said, a flush of pink on her cheeks.

“I look forward to it, love.”

And with that she was gone. Leaving in her path the scent of her sweet aroma. Killian let out a deep breath, it had taken every ounce of restraint to not drive to the nearest hotel and whisk her away into the night. But he knew that he couldn’t do that. Not when she had Neal waiting at home for her.

So for tonight he would have to let her go.

Emma Swan had always thought of herself as perceptive.

She could easily tell if someone was lying.

She noticed nervous ticks people had.

She picked up on habitual behavior quite easily.

Most importantly, though, she could tell if someone was watching her.

And at the moment, the pair of eyes watching her belonged to none other than the man she had been actively avoiding for almost a week. Killian Jones. The baby blues raking over her, Emma’s back to where he was in the backyard. The residual embarrassment of him effectively rejecting her sexual advances was still a fresh wound. Only to be followed up by the most tender and confusing time together in his truck. All of it was racing through her head as he stood within her line of vision. None of this was anything she wanted to address at 9 am on a Saturday morning.

Feeling Killian’s eyes on her but too stubborn to look at him, Emma continued to set the table on her patio. Focusing not on her gardener but instead on the long, glass surface now set for a proper brunch. Filled with breakfast pastries, fruit bowls, quishes, crystal orange juice pitchers, the perfectly placed gardenia arrangements. The meticulousness of it all distracting her from the obvious fact that at some point she would need to talk to Killian. She had done a smooth job of avoiding him throughout the past week. Not answering his calls, being out of the house when she knew he would be working in the yard. She needed to focus, couldn’t cave to the insane yoyo they were playing every time they saw each other.

Today though there was no way around it, she would need to be home while he was there. Because for the first time in a while, Emma was expecting company.

Emma straightened the gold cutlery that framed the place settings, her left hand wearing her diamond engagement ring for appearances. The band of her wired watch ready to pick up any ancillary conversations her brunch would bring.

From across the yard she and Killian made eye contact. Unmistakable lingering eye contact. Her hand unconsciously drifting to the ring on her finger. As if covering it from his view would make it go away.

“Emma! Where are my golf spikes!” Neal yelled from inside more than he asked.

Suddenly she felt exposed, wrapping the silk robe around her tightly she stole away inside. As she walked to the garage, where she had hidden Neal’s shoes to fuck with him, she tried to calm herself down. It was all going to be okay but she needed to focus.

Emma sat in her massive closet and distracted herself from the pink hue of her cheeks by applying more foundation. She topped off with a hint of mascara and a spritz of Chanel No 5.

As much as she liked that Killian’s presence brought the natural pink color back into her cheeks, she knew having the ladies over for brunch required her full attention. Which would be hard enough to do with him lingering in the yard.

After putting on a yellow linen sundress, perfectly pressed and fitted, she tied her hair back into a tight bun. Her hair being as curly as it was, ran wild with the humidity. It was just easier to restrict it with a hairband. Finished readying herself, she took one last look at Neal’s side of the closet. Each shirt perfectly dry-cleaned, pressed and hung in a row. It was tempting to not just rip them all down. Let them collect on the ground in a pile of wrinkles.

Emma Swan never thought of herself as one of the ladies who lunch, or in this case brunch. In fact for most of her life she had navigated without forming any meaningful connections at all. But today she was and she looked the part. Her nails were painted a dainty cream color. Her pale yellow dress swung in a skirt that fanned just above her waist, moving elegantly as she escorted each guest to the perfectly placed table. Ensuring everyone had the exact drink they wanted.

Mary Margaret was the first to arrive, bringing with her a steaming basket of blueberry muffins. It was when she came back out onto the porch with Mary Margaret in toe, that she realized something was different about the table.

“Wow, Emma those roses are beautiful,” were the first words out of Mary Margaret’s mouth when they stepped onto the porch. Emma whipped her head around to see what her friend was talking about when she saw the table.

The red roses stood out against the washed out whites and golds of the tablescape. Emma had hardly noticed how void of personality it looked until the pop of red had been added in lieu of the white. A quick glance into the yard confirmed Killian had been the one to add the red roses to the flower arrangements. He gave her a subtle wink. She imagined Killian’s calloused, dirt covered hands arranging each rose with the utmost of care. An involuntary smile crossed her face before she caught herself.

“Emma these pastries are lovely,” Zelena said taking a bite of one of the light, fluffy croissants. The words strung together were nice but the more the meal went on the more Emma realized Zelena was the type of person who could always make something sound like an insult. As she bit into one of Mary Margaret’s muffins and neglected to comment.

“Thank you, they’re from Granny’s.” Emma was bummed Ruby couldn’t be here, but in fairness it was Saturday at brunch time and she needed to be at work at the restaurant. At least Mary Margaret was there.

“You know it’s so hard to find decent bakeries these days. Everything’s so commercialized around here anymore.”

Emma couldn’t say she disagreed. Remembering back to the first day she arrived in Storybrooke, and all she could see were suburban developments and chain restaurants.

“That’s what happens when a town grows, Zelena,” Regina chimed in from the end of the table. She had shown up 25 minutes late, while on the phone, and had barely spoken a word since she had arrived. At the head of the table, wearing a dark sensible blazer, it looked more like Regina was attending a conference not a brunch.

“I happen to think it can grow without turning into a giant strip mall… but again maybe that’s why I’m not in charge.”

Emma leaned back in her chair and sipped the cold mimosa in her glass. Most of the morning had been this way. The two sisters taking any shot they could at each other without actually laying a hand on one another.

“Does anyone need another drink? I need another one.” Emma drained her mostly full mimosa and stood up from the table. Any time the air got too tense she made a dash for the kitchen. Hosting had one advantage, she could pretend to be polite while also avoiding the situation completely.

“I’ll help,” Mary Margaret said abruptly, standing from the table to follow Emma. The look on her friend’s face said ‘you’re not leaving me out here alone with them’.

“They’ve been going at it the whole time,” Mary Margaret sighed, setting the champagne flute down on the marble counter. Emma’s kitchen, despite the brunch, was impeccably clean. She preferred to keep up with messes as she went. They were easier to manage that way.

“I never had a sister but even in my wildest dreams I never imagined they would be this terrible.”

“I don’t think their relationship is typical…” Mary Margaret crossed her arms. Emma rarely heard her friend say anything negative about anyone. “As long as I’ve known them they’ve been ridiculously competitive.”

“Competitive I can understand but they seem like downright enemies.”

“What do you expect with a mother like they have?”

“Cora can’t possibly be that bad…” Emma felt bad pushing for more on Cora from Mary Margaret, as much as she knew that was the purpose of this brunch she cared about Mary Margaret. She didn’t want to treat her like a pawn.

“She has been pitting them against each other for years. No one really understands why, she clearly favors Regina.”

That much Emma could sense. Easily.

Emma pulled the chilled bottle of champagne from the fridge, carefully tipping the liquid into the empty flutes. Through the kitchen window she could see Killian, in the yard, shoveling pebbles into place in a small path between flower beds.

The yard had really come to life as of late, and soon it would be finished. There was green grass, carefully cut. A white gazebo amongst ivy. Colorful flowers planted in organized lines. Yet Killian had made it all look elegant, natural. Not contrived and pretentious like some of her neighbors. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the end of his shirt and Emma caught a peak of his abs.

“Shit…” It wasn’t until Emma felt the bubbly cold liquid on her hand that she realized she had lost focus and was spilling champagne all over the floor.

Just get through the rest of this brunch. Then you can fantasize about him all you want, she told herself.

The rest of the brunch was more of the same. After downing three mimosas in quick succession Emma slowed herself so she could focus on the task at hand. Intel. Unfortunately for her not much came of it. The passive aggressive digs being thrown across the table by each sister weren’t much more telling. Other then Zelena hated what the town had become under her sister’s reign as mayor and Regina hated everything about her sister. Why the chose to live right next door to one another was beyond her. If someone hated their family so much, why not just keep a distance? Why live in the same town, in the same neighborhood?

Nearly three hours later, the morning had winded down. Transitioning to the afternoon as the sun rose higher in the sky. Emma could see the sweat glistening on Killian’s forehead, but he left his shirt on. Perhaps it was because Emma had company. Or perhaps it was because he wasn’t into teasing her anymore at all. That he was trying to convey a clear message.

What they had the night he rejected her stopped then. The end.

Emma knew enough about suburbia and appearances and the Mills family in general to know that people said the most when they thought no one was listening. Which was why Emma took the opportunity of Zelena and Regina’s exit to hide in the shadows and listen to their conversation.

Her back to the closed pocket doors that separated the foyer from the office, Emma pressed her ear to understand what the two sisters could possibly say to one another when no one was listening.

“You think no one knows where you go late at night? You think it’s some big secret?” That was clearly Zelena, the biting tone contradicting her soft whisper.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about and you had better watch what you say.” Regina spoke more calmly, like a smooth hushed tone. As if conflict was relaxing to her. “Some of us have real reputations. And careers.”

“Oh please, we all know what mom did for you. Don’t pretend like you earned this.”

That was the last thing Emma heard before the slam of her front door. Her heart beating fast she stood there, frozen in place. Not sure if she had just heard nothing important or everything she had been hoping to hear.

What had Cora done for her daughter? Why hadn’t she done it for the other? And most importantly how did that all tie back to the Gold’s?

After pulling herself together, Emma made her way to the deck. While she had kept her kitchen organized and tidy, the table was another story. What had once been a pristine table was now in total disarray. Linen napkins were stained with red lipstick, crumbs littered the glass surface. Dirty glasses and gold leaf plates were cluttered with the remains of pastries and eggs.

In a way she liked it. The chaos of it all. How an unassuming stranger would guess there had been an enjoyable morning spent on the porch. It looked lived in, not so stale.

Then there were the red roses.

“Listen… I can’t talk right now, I have to get this all cleaned up,” Emma waved him off. Maybe if he stayed physically far enough away from her, whatever spell she was under in his presence would wear off.

“I don’t want to talk,” he said, not stopping his measured steps toward her. Emma looked into his eyes, hers never leaving his as he stalked toward her. A shiver went down her spine as she felt the cloth of his t-shirt brush the fabric of her dress. That was how close they were.

Emma had almost forgotten how much taller he was than her, craning her neck up toward him he came across domineering. Arrogant. A confidence she hadn’t seen in him yet. At least not in the context of their situation.

“What do you want then?” She tried to hold her own confidence, but as a smirk crossed his face and reached his haunting eyes she felt her resolve crumble around her.

“You know what I want.” His hands found their way to her waist, the feel of his grip on her eliciting a warm feeling in the base of her belly. “Or at least I thought you did.”

“You rejected me, Killian. I understood loud and clear…” Emma pushed on his chest with her hand and stepped away. Walking toward the railing of the porch and staring out into the yard.

When silence fell over the two of them, Emma thought he would go. Assumed he would head back to his truck and drive off. But then she heard the rumble of a deep laugh. One that came from the back of his throat and made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

“Emma, darling.” His boots hit the porch floor at the pace of her beating heart. He was right behind her. Not touching but just close enough. Emma closed her eyes. She took in the scent of his cologne. She took in the feel of his energy. How it connected with her own. “I never said I didn’t want you.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Does it feel like I don’t want you?” he asked, dragging his fingers up her bare arms. Her back pressed to his front. His very alert front. “My apologies if I haven’t been clear enough.”

Instinctively Emma’s head shifted back against his chest. She leaned into his touch as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The prickly feeling along her skin as his hands teased her. Slowly one untied the bun from her hair, the blonde curls falling loose around her shoulders.

“I didn’t want to have you in that bed, with all of the… history that’s there.” He pulled her hair off of her neck and began to trail kisses along the bend to her shoulder. “It wasn’t the right place.”

“Oh, and here is?” As much as she was turned on by him, attracted to him, drawn to him, how was her house any different?

“Has anyone ever had you on this table?” he broke his kisses along her neck, the scruff of his beard tickling her very sensitive skin.

“No,” she managed to choke out.

“In this dress?” Another kiss, this time with teeth.

“No.” Barely the word, mostly just breath.

“Is there anyone else here?”

“No.”

“You drive me mad, Emma.” He spun her around, so she was facing him. Her body pressed between the railing of the porch and his body. The hard planes of it pressed against her. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you for weeks.”

Emma’s hand had made its way to the back of his neck, toying with the hair at the base of it. He knew he had her. She could see it in the flicker in his deep blue eyes. The same way he could see it in hers.

“Certainly you must know that?”

For a moment he wasn’t arrogant, wasn’t acting solely on bravado. His face was earnest, a flicker of honesty. He was testing her. He wanted to know she understood that him not welcoming her advances on Saturday night had nothing to do with her. But the circumstance.

“I know,” she breathed before connecting her lips with his. The electricity from their mouths together. It was intoxicating, the feel of him. Like they had been doing it for years. Or lifetimes.

“Good,” he muttered back between swipes of his tongue. Diving deeper into her mouth as she craned her neck to grant him entrance. His rough hands were all over her in a gripping way, demanding. Killian reached under her dress and grabbed the tops of her thighs, wrapping them around him and lifting her into the air.

Emma never liked feeling fragile, never enjoyed feeling like a doll. But there was something in the way Killian’s strong arms lifted her with no effort that set her blood on fire. That sent waves through her entire body.

Killian sat her down on the edge of the table, shoving glassware, napkins, plates off to the side to make room for her. Some of it fell to the ground and shattered, others just clamored together. Either way Emma didn’t care. The whole house could crumble right now and she would be halfway to an orgasm before she realized.

“I hope those weren’t expensive,” he muttered between biting and sucking on her neck.

“Of course they were.” Emma leaned her head back, hoping he would continue with his mouth somewhere else. “Extremely.”

“Bill me,” he growled, shoving even more of the mess onto the deck. Shards of glass scattered everywhere around them as he laid her back down onto the table.

For a moment he slowed, running a finger down her jaw. Her neck. Her chest. Her hips. All the way down beneath the hem of her skirt.

“Emma… have you been without underwear all morning?”

A pause. Emma stared up at him, his blue eyes dark and hooded with desire at the feel of her bare beneath her skirt.

“That’s terribly naughty of you, love.” In one smooth movement he had knelt to the ground and pulled Emma right to the edge of the table. Her center level with his face, so close she could feel his breath. “You also neglected to offer me any food earlier…. All the while you were walking around bare…”

“Killian…. Please…” she moaned as she felt inhaled her scent, moving even closer to her.

He inhaled again, deeper this time and said, “Might I have a taste?”

“Yes.”

His tongue traced its way along her clit, once. That was all before the bastard pulled away.

“You can have another,” she whispered, just barely loud enough for him to hear.

Killian flattened his tongue against her clit and tasted Emma again. Leaving her body aching for his touch. His grip around her hips only pulled her closer toward him. She tried not to make much noise but cried out at the assault of his mouth on her center.

He ate her like a man starved. Using his tongue, his lips, his teeth. And then his finger, as it drifted over her dripping center and then slid inside. Bending it so it would hit her most sensitive spot. Emma couldn’t help but grind against it, the feel of a second finger entering her. If it felt this good she could only imagine how good all of him would feel.

Emma’s eyes opened and looked down to see the dark head of hair as Killian worked. Pushed her closer to her peak. Something came over her as she climbed to that point, she wanted him to watch.

“Killian....” she managed to gasp. And he didn’t miss a beat as his eyes met hers. His almost black hair disheveled. He looked like the devil. Or a temptation so dirty it could only be described as demonic. “Watch me.”

Emma came, in a soft and muffled groan she came. Her whole body shuddering against the hard surface of the table.

When she resumed her conscious mind she looked up at him. At Killian, as he stood above her. His angular features catching the light. His white shirt pulling at his muscles.

“That was…” he started, but this time Emma was the one who didn’t want to talk. She used all of her energy to sit up and yank him down on top of her. Their lips meeting. His hands stroking her breasts over the fabric of her dress. Her hands wandered to his pants. The stretched material of his very hard member.

Emma’s shaking fingers undid his belt, then his zipper. Pulling down his briefs to expose his very impressive length. Her jaw didn’t drop but it felt like it did.

“Darling, are you alright?” His hand was gentle on her cheek, drawing her gaze up to his face. Nothing but heat behind his blue eyes as he stared down at her. “I can be gentle.”

Emma was quiet for a moment. Knowing her body had not been this responsive to anyone before. And selfishly wanting more.

“Do not..” she started, “be gentle, until I say so.”

In one movement he aligned himself and rammed into her. Emma’s arms wrapped around him, as he held for a moment to let her adjust to his size.

“Emma?”

“Until I say so.”

Killian leaned forward, pinning her to the table as he began to pump into her. He certainly listened to her instruction, and that was all he needed. As his hips worked into her and her legs tightened around his waist.

Emma felt herself growing closer, each movement Killian made every nerve ending in her body come alive. She had never felt anything this good before. She looked up at him, biting her lip and taking everything he gave.

Killian bent down, not missing a beat, and resting his forearms on either side of her. Their eyes were locked as he slowed his pace.

“You feel incredible…” he said as he grinded into her. Though his pace had slowed, his power had not. He was deliberate, and precise as his hips moved to meet hers. She felt every inch of him. His hand reached down to massage her.

His head leaned down and he caught the delicate skin on her neck between his teeth. Emma’s back arched off of the table.

She let out another groan, a bit louder than she had been before. Killian smirked and caught her lips with his. Every movement of his mouth synced with the movement of their hips. Emma didn’t know how much longer she could hold back.

“Killian… I can’t…”

“Just let go,” he whispered against her lips before diving in for more. It was a good thing too, because as she reached her peak she wanted to scream out. To let everyone with ears know how euphoric this felt. Killian followed her over and as they both calmed he pressed gentle kisses along her skin.

Emma felt like she was floating. Like her skin wasn’t even touching the table. This would complicate everything, even more so than it already was. But she couldn’t even force herself to make this bad. Not with the way she felt.

Not even so much the feeling, but just knowing, knowing with absolute certainty she had never had this kind of connection with anyone.

“Emma? What are you…?”

Emma’s head rolled over to see that standing in her doorway, looking at her in a very compromising position with the gardener was Regina Mills.

#cs ff au #cs ff #captain swan #captain swan fanfiction #cs modern au #cs au #cs fic #cs fanfics #emma swan #killian jones

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swanderful1 · 6 years ago

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I was wondering if you are still writing Duplicity? Your writing is just so good and I enjoy your stories so much. Thank you.

Yes I am ☺️ took a bit of a hiatus but I’ve been back at it lately and working tirelessly to overcome a severe case of writers block. Thanks so much for asking!!

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swanderful1 · 6 years ago

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Awwww thank you 💕💕💕

CS Fic Rec Monday: A Cold Awakening

A Cold Awakening by @swanderful1

Rating: M.

Chapters: 25/25.

Plot: Modern crime AU. Twenty years have gone by since Storybrooke was shaken to the core by a gruesome crime that went unsolved. Sheriff David Nolan and his partner, daughter Emma are forced to revisit the crime. At the same time, Killian Jones and his older brother Liam have been drawn back to the town they had longed to never see again, struggling to find their own answers. As taunting notes and clues show up they are taken on a journey to finally bring justice for the Jones family. And Emma Nolan finds herself caught in a situation more dangerous than she could have ever imagined.

YES YES YES This fic is absolutely fantastic!!!! Everything is perfect, like, EVERYTHING. And the smuuuuuuuuuut boy the smut is fans-self worthy. Go read it if you haven’t already|

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swanderful1 · 6 years ago

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so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

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swanderful1 · 6 years ago

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Thank you thank you ☺️

CS Fic Rec Monday

Anybody in the mood for some more multi-chapters for @csficrecmonday?

Natural Opposite by @searchingwardrobes:Dance is more than Emma Swan’s career; it’s practically saved her life on more than one occasion. But when it comes to reality TV shows, she’s always danced in the shadows of her twin brother David and her sister Elsa. Her first season as a pro on Dancing With the Stars was a disaster, and she enters her second season determined to prove herself. All she needs is a good partner. Hollywood bad boy and ladies’ man Killian Jones isn’t what she had in mind.

(It’s a delicious slow burn with lots of character development for everyone, and you need to read it!)

Your Case or Mine by @blowmiakisscolin: Detective Emma Swan is one of Boston Homicide’s finest. Killian Jones is head of the FBI team who swoops in to take jurisdiction when multiple homicides sharing similarities with her current case pop up out of state. But they’ll have to learn to work together to lure out their killer when they’re required to go undercover.

(I mean, it’s got just about everything that you can want, and the mystery of the entire story is just as good as the development of the relationship. Plus an awesome Emma and Will Scarlett friendship!)

If Looks Could Kill by @wellhellotragic: Emma Swan is a dedicated FBI agent getting over a bad breakup. When she and her partner, Ruby Lucas, are forced to go undercover as contestants on a reality show, Emma is forced to try and win the affections of Killian Jones, a man she despises.Killian Jones is a lost boy. Having recently been nicknamed the ‘Bad Boy of Boston,’ he’s been living up to his moniker using women and rum to avoid dealing with his dark past. When he’s forced to take the lead in a reality show, he encounters a gorgeous blonde who turns his world upside down.

(It’s just dang good, and you guys should read it if you haven’t already. Plain and simple.)

Playing the Part by @shireness-says: As a stage manager who’s clawed her way up from the bottom, Emma Swan can handle just about anything thrown her way. But does that include handsome lead actor Killian Jones? A CS Broadway AU.

(A well-written, complex, wonderful slow burn that pays off in the best way.)

Lethologica by @lifeinahole27: Maybe if they could find the right word to describe their friendship, everything else would fall into place.

(An all time favorite that is full of so much goodness and emotion that you just feel. It’s got best friends in love, a little bit of secret dating, and some long distance. It’s good, peeps.)

A Cold Awakening by @swanderful1: Modern crime AU. Twenty years have gone by since Storybrooke was shaken to the core by a gruesome crime that went unsolved. Sheriff David Nolan and his partner, daughter Emma are forced to revisit the crime. At the same time, Killian Jones and his older brother Liam have been drawn back to the town they had longed to never see again, struggling to find their own answers.As taunting notes and clues show up they are taken on a journey to finally bring justice for the Jones family. And Emma Nolan finds herself caught in a situation more dangerous than she could have ever imagined.

(I just love this one a lot, okay. The amount of detail in it is insane, and it’s so well written and intriguing all the way through.)

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swanderful1 · 6 years ago

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Duplicity: Chapter 12 SNEAK PEAK

Working along on chapter 12 but in the mean time here is a little preview of what’s to come. Sooner rather than later ☺️

“Last night, I want to apologize for.” Killian wanted to reach out and touch her. The way her soft complexion caught the light of the setting sun as she sat in the passenger seat. He could smell her sweet perfume, he was intoxicated by that alone. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t, that I didn’t want you.”

“We don’t have to get into it.” Her body language shifted, and she was stone faced. Serious, almost sad. “There is too much at stake right now, with everything going on.”

He thought she was done, but her pause was because her eyes were brimming with tears. It looked like she was biting her tongue, like if she opened her mouth the dam would burst.

“Emma...” Without thinking he pulled her to him just as the tear fell. His arms wrapped around her, and she leaned completely into him. Her hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt. Her cheek on his chest as he felt the breath move her spine. In the time Killian had known Emma, he had never seen her crack. With the immeasurable amount of stress she was under daily she held it together. Until this very moment. “Darling, breathe.”

#cs ff au #cs ff #captain swan #captain swan fanfiction #cs modern au #cs au #cs fic #cs fanfics #emma swan #killian jones

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swanderful1 · 7 years ago

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Duplicity: Ch 11/?

Notes: WHAT’S UP EVERYONE as promised here is Chapter 11. 6000 words of straight DRAMA. Enjoy :)

Per usual shout out to my beta @resident-of-storybrooke , @shady-swan-jones for the amazing artwork and @onceuponaprincessworld for checking in always and making sure I keep going (even though my writing process is spaced out and extra).

The post is too long to have all of the text on here so read the whole damn thing on AO3 and ffnet

Emma woke up Saturday morning with a pounding headache and an emotional hangover. The night before spent lurking in the shadows of the forest trying to catch Neal’s family in God knows what. Even after crawling around the family business complex all Emma had managed to learn was that Neal was in fact and for sure having an affair with his assistant, that his father had a closer relationship with Cora Mills than she had ever known, and that in Cora’s possession was a briefcase containing some sort of something she needed to get her hands on.

Emma tried to think of the times she saw Gold interact with the Mills family. Her perspective was limited, however she knew that Neal’s father was powerful. He had a lot of pull in the town of Storybrooke, he had built most of it - or rather his company had. And Cora was probably just as powerful, what with her daughter being the mayor who was engaged to the chief of police. Yeah. It was too convenient. All of the major decision makers in one town all in the same social circle.

Neal had surprisingly come home after his date with his assistant. Amanda. Now Emma could hear him typing away downstairs in the office. What time was it? 7 am? The sun had barely come up, but what little was in the sky peaked through the blinds on her bedroom windows. She rolled over and wrapped herself tighter in the down white comforter. Maybe if she closed her eyes and went back to sleep she would wake up in a different life. Some days she wished she could just watch from a birds eye view, gain some clarity on her situation, and move forward. Because there was almost no one she felt like she could confide in.

Almost.

Then there was Killian.

The feel of his lips on hers had barely left her mind since the night before. Being pressed up against his rock hard form in the dark, foggy woods was a memory she wanted to cling to all morning. To stay in a bubble where she knew what it felt like to be desired. As she hadn’t felt anything quite like it in some time.

A truck door slammed outside. And in an instant Emma had left her cocoon. Leaving the safety of her bed, crossing the room to the window and pulling open the drapes. On the street below she saw Killian Jones unloading his truck. From her second story window she took advantage of the view. Her own private one. People passed by in cars. The neighborhood began to come to life. But Emma’s gaze was focused on him.

The muscles in his arms pulling at the tight fabric of his shirt as he lifted his tool box down to the sidewalk. The way he bit his bottom lip when he closed the bed of the truck.

The words Jones Landscaping were painted in bold letters on the side of the trailer. Reminding Emma that despite the fluttering in the base of her belly, despite the lingering puffiness on her lips, despite her imagination wondering what it would feel like to have all of him and not just a taste. And the smile that crept onto her face at the very thought.

Despite all of that, today he was her gardener. He was here to work, to do his job. And Neal, for once, was home.

Emma dressed quickly. Throwing on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. She opted to leave her watch off until later, as she had last night. It was nice to have the break from it. August didn’t need to hear 100% of her life. If he questioned her on it later she could just say she was… showering.

Before running downstairs she didn’t even check the mirror, her usual desire to come across the perfect neighbor outweighed by her curiosity about talking to Killian. Her hair was still probably matted from sleep, but she wasn’t worried about that. Because this morning when she woke up, knowing Neal was in the home office working away at whatever terrible shit his family was covering, the smallest amount of relief came from knowing Killian was right outside. Emma didn’t entirely know if that was as terrifying as it should have been.

“You’re up early,” she heard Neal say as she walked into the kitchen. It startled her. Though she knew he was down here.

“I’m always up early.” You would know that if you were ever around, she thought to add. But decided against it. The less dialogue the better. “I could say the same to you.”

“Some work came up and I didn’t want to go into the office.”

Emma’s head jerked up from the coffee she was pouring. Was it possible something happened with Amanda the night before? He had come back very quickly after leaving with her. And now he was in the last place Emma expected him to be. Their home.

“Anything important?” she prodded. Though she knew he would never tell her anything.

“Not anything you would understand.”

It took everything she had not to chuck the coffee mug at his wormy head. But instead she opted to sip the steaming cup and swallow her words. The stale kitchen could have consumed her whole, its stark white and gray coloring. Hospital level clean as always. A drip of coffee hit the tile floor and she let it be. Let it stain, she thought. The house could use a bit of character. When she shifted her gaze back up, she stared straight ahead of her. Through the big glass windows that lined the back of the house she caught sight of him.

Killian was moving around the yard, which had really begun to come together, carrying bags of mulch on his shoulder. One right after the other and laying them where the rest of his workers would spread them out. For a moment she just watched him.

“Can you go outside and make sure they lay the brick work today and tomorrow?” Neal said, once again without getting up from his post.

Emma didn’t say anything back, not when she knew she was being set up. It was, however, becoming more and more easy to walk right into it.

When Emma walked outside she found Killian in the front yard making some notes on a clipboard. His t-shirt was dark and tight, still clean as the day had just begun. A piece of his black hair had fallen over his eyes as he wrote. When he didn’t notice her approach Emma (not so) subtly cleared her throat.

The instant their eyes met Emma felt a blush crawl up her cheeks. It was only a flicker, a blip of that electricity before they both remembered they were in public. They had to maintain a level of distance. Like she hadn’t been wrapped in his arms the night before.

“Good morning,” she said first.

“Good morning, love,” he said, privately with a smirk. Just for her.

“Maybe we should um, go somewhere more private…” she realized then just how difficult it would be to pretend like nothing was going on with them.

He followed her into the open garage, back where all of the normal household garage things were kept. Shelves of power tools though Neal had never lifted a hammer. A sink. Some old paint cans.

The remainder of the bricks that had never been used were still in the corner. Emma had been so preoccupied with everything she hadn’t had the energy to deal with them. While the front walkway was still a compromise, the back would be the limestone she had wanted. Plopping herself down on top of the pallet she faced Killian.

“Last night was uh…” He scratched behind his ear, the way he always did when he was a bit nervous.

“Interesting.” Emma finished for him. As much as she absolutely loved diving into her feelings (she fucking hated it) there were some very serious matters to discuss. And quickly. “We know that whatever is going on, Cora Mills is most likely involved.”

“Right.” Killian agreed, if he was irked that she didn’t immediately bring up their romantic encounter, he didn’t show it. “We still don’t know how they’re covering up what they’re doing though.”

“There has to be a way they’re bringing in all of those drugs.” Emma thought back to the mountain of cocaine that was stuffed in her car the day she got pulled over all those months ago. Stuff like that doesn’t just appear, it comes from somewhere. Or maybe something?

“What if they’re bringing it in with the construction supplies?” Emma wondered aloud as she sat atop a stack of unused bricks. “How easy would it be to just fill the center of one of these pallets with contraband and fill in the other space with actual materials.”

Killian looked at her as if it dawned on him at the same time. This had to be it. Or at the very least, it was a start. There was no telling all that family was capable of.

“That’s actually quite brilliant, Emma.” She wasn’t sure why it made her heart flutter when he acknowledged her idea. But that was something to unpack at another time. “But how do we prove that?”

“Emma!” she heard called from the front street. A soft female voice that obviously belonged to Mary Margaret.

Killian and Emma both froze. Listening one by one as the footsteps got closer.

“Oh- sorry to interrupt I didn’t realize…” the woman said as she stumbled upon them. Just the two of them, alone in a crowded garage.

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I was just…” Emma tried to come up with an explanation, but from the way they were positioned it honestly didn’t look like anything super innocent was happening.

“We were just going over some of the plans for the pathways in the yard is all,” Killian offered smoothly. “If you ladies will excuse me I have to get back to work.”

Quickly he smiled and dismissed himself, but Emma had so much more to talk about with him. And he, with her. If she was judging the expression on his face correctly, it looked as though he had so much on his lips. A tiny, unfamiliar pang struck her heart as he rounded the bend of the garage and was out of her sight.

When Emma turned to face Mary Margaret her friend’s face was apologetic, guilty even. But she didn’t want anyone else caught in the crossfires of her life. It was hard enough bringing Killian in, the last thing she wanted to do was burden someone as sweet as Mary Margaret. Her earnest face, kind and calm. The pale blue of her t-shirt against her pale skin. She was like a doll, delicate and dainty.

“What’s up?” Emma tried to ask as nonchalantly as possible when she and her gardener had just been walked in on yet again.

“I should have just called or something,” Mary Margaret apologized. “I’m sorry.”

“No worries, it was nothing important.” Which was a total lie but there was no way she could get into that right now.

“I was just coming over to see if you wanted to come to Ruby’s birthday tonight.”

“Where is it?” Emma wondered if Killian would be there. Maybe they could find a second to talk more about last night when Neal wasn’t in the next room.

#cs ff au #captain swan fanfiction #cs ff #cs modern au #cs au #cs fic #cs fanfics #captain swan #emma swan #killian jones

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