#I still think CS is probably worse to start near than anyone else

[slythereen]

how in gods name does sainz manage to ruin everything. i dont for a second believe he actually would have helped charles, but at least it wouldn’t be two mclarens that do cooperate right behind charles 🥲

[spartanguard]

sick of love (1/3)

Summary: If Emma’s not careful, she just might bump into her soulmate. Physically. And while she might like the idea of what comes with that—an almost psychic connection whenever they make skin contact—she’d rather not deal with the awful withdrawal sickness that can come when they inevitably leave her; she’s got a son, so she doesn’t have time for that. So she keeps herself covered and thinks she’ll be okay. Until she meets Killian, who does the same thing. Will their barriers protect them, or just hurt them more?

CS Soulmates AU | Rated M | 5.8k | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | AO3

A/N: This story was inspired by a tumblr post imagining a different kind of soulmate AU; I got inspired and ran with the idea. (original post can be found here.) Thank you to the organizers of @cssns for putting on this great event again!! Also to @sherlockianwhovian for making the INCREDIBLE art that goes with this! (and to @optomisticgirl for looking it over!)

The train slipped into the station, coming to an easy stop at the platform where Emma waited. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass window as the door opened in front of her, and adjusted her hair accordingly, making sure her long blonde tresses hung over her shoulders and framed her face just so—but not so much that she was completely covered; she wasn’t Cousin Itt.

People began to stream out of the car, moving on either side of where Emma stood, not unlike water flowing around a rock in a river. She held her breath in an attempt to make herself smaller, in hopes that would make it harder for anyone to bump into her. There was a slight jostle to her leather-covered elbow, but thankfully, that was all. Soon, the last tourist had left the car, on their way to whatever pretentious bar was in this particular Boston neighborhood; Emma didn’t know and didn’t care, and was headed the opposite direction—her suburban apartment after a long day of fruitless work.

Emma shuffled onto the train and slumped into a seat, pulling her jacket just a bit tighter around her as she tried her best to melt into the hard molded plastic. The more she could hide or shrink, the better; the train was always packed this time of day, making it all too easy to get bumped or shoved into the next person, so the fact that she’d gotten a seat was perfect—even better, it was on the end, so there was only one seat next to her. Because if there was one thing Emma Swan hated, it was being touched.

Actually, that was a lie—she had loved it, once upon a time. But God, she’d been so naive.

The train quickly filled up. Emma tensed when someone sat next to her, but the suited businessman seemed more interested in his phone, and just as keen not to touch her. Even in a society that placed a high value on physical contact, there were still those who shied away from it, at least with strangers. Emma, though, did her best to keep away from everyone.

If her phone had more than 10% battery, she’d have her nose buried in it like half the other people on the train. Like her neighbor apparently knew, that was also a good way to ward off any unwanted contact. But given it’s mostly-dead status, and a desire to leave that little bit there in case Henry called, she’d have to content herself with people watching; hell, maybe she’d find the skip who’d gotten away from her earlier.

It was mostly people heading home from work, likely about to enjoy the balmy early summer evening on balconies or patios; if they threw a glance her way, they’d probably think the way she was dressed for late fall was insane—not many people wore turtlenecked sweaters, jeans, and knee-high boots in July, even in Boston. She’d gotten used to the self-imposed swelter by now, though.

But no one had eyes for her, thankfully, least of all the couple standing in front of her. They stood side by side, one hand each on the overhead rail and the other holding their partner’s. They had soft, happy grins on their faces and it almost looked as though they were having a conversation with just their eyes—and they most likely were. Because that was what happened when you found your soulmate.

She shivered involuntarily, despite the heat and her unseasonable dress. Gah, she hated that word: soulmate. Because, of course, the universe had picked that one perfect person for everyone. You didn’t have any choice in the matter; that’s just how it was. Great if you find them; sucks if you don’t—and even worse if you lose them.

As a kid, it had been a pipe dream for a touch-starved orphan like Emma had been. Everyone grew up knowing the stories: that when you found your soulmate, physical touch created an almost psychic connection with them. Thoughts, feelings, even dreams could be shared through skin, and it only got more intense the longer the relationship lasted.

And she thought she’d had that, once. Now? She’d sworn it off; there were more important things to worry about.

She blinked her eyes and looked away from the couple, lest she get too far down Memory Lane to turn back. She focused on the view of the city flying by outside the windows, the familiar landmarks telling her she was close to her stop. Each building was one tick in the countdown until she could get off and head home, where central AC, her son, and an ice cold beer were waiting.

Finally, the train slowed down and came to a creaking stop at her station. She waited a bit for more people to exit the car, including the annoyingly adorable couple (something she was all too familiar with in her own life), and headed back out into the temperate air.

And then she saw her skip, in the mass of people heading out of the station. Guess home would have to wait; good thing she saved her phone battery.

She took off at a sprint, waiting to shout the douchebag’s name until he had no time to react before she was on top of him, bringing him to the ground and pinning him there without an ounce of skin contact. If this asshole was her soulmate, she didn’t want to know.

(Or to know if anyone was anymore.)

A few hours later, she finally slumped into her apartment and sighed in the blessedly cold air. Then she sniffed; was that pizza?

“I ordered from Regina Pizzeria; hope you didn’t mind,” Henry shouted from the kitchen.

“Did you tip?” she asked, tugging on the zippers of her boots and stepping out of them.

“Of course; I’m not an animal.”

She snorted; he’d definitely inherited her sense of humor. “Good.” Her stomach was growling, but she needed to at least get out of her jacket before she did anything about it. It clung to her in an unpleasant manner as she peeled it off, the sleeves turning inside out as they clung to her clammy skin; she just hung it up that way, letting the sweaty lining air out.

Henry already had plates set out at their kitchen island-slash-dining table. “Thanks, kid,” she said as she walked past him to the fridge, pausing to ruffle his dark brown hair. “And sorry again.”

“It happens,” he said with a shrug. She winced at that, despite the chilled air blowing from the fridge as she grabbed her beer; she hated that he was so used to her inconsistent work hours, but was so proud of him for being self-reliant. She still wasn’t sure how she’d been blessed with such a fantastic kid, but that was why she did what she did—not just her job, but protecting herself. She couldn’t make sure Henry grew up safe and loved if she was too caught up in her own shit.

“Is your homework done?” she asked as she took a seat on what had become designated as her bar chair at the counter. 

“Yup,” he answered, opening the box; plain pepperoni—their favorite. 

“Show me after we eat.”

“I know,” he groaned, rolling his eyes a bit, and grabbed a slice. Every now and then, there were moments like that where Emma was reminded that her 11-year-old was growing up fast. But for the most part, he was still her little boy: smart, funny, and with the biggest heart she’d ever met. She wished his dad could see him.

Like they did every night, they talked about their days, but mostly Henry’s—she loved to hear about what he was learning and the things he did with his friends. No one had ever taken interest in her life, academic or otherwise, until she wound up with the Nolans, and she vowed a long time ago to make sure Henry always had an attentive parent. 

“Avery had to go home at lunch; he got sick. It was gross, like you could see his—“

“Ugh, no—not while I’m eating!” (Lest she forget, Henry was definitely an 11-year-old boy.)

Henry sighed but plowed on. “Anyways, they sent him home and said he probably had a stomach bug, but he thinks it’s something else. He thinks he has lovesickness.” 

Emma froze for a second, but not too long in case Henry noticed. He knew she had issues with soulmates and she tried her hardest not to pass them onto him. But lovesickness—that was something of a trigger word. 

See, that was the other side to having a soulmate: if you went too long without physical contact with them, you got sick. Not just heartsick or lonely—physically ill. After a few weeks without touching your supposed true love, you started to develop flu-like symptoms that progressively got worse—the point of near immobility—until either you came back in contact with them or cycled all the way through it, your body mended but your soul a bit bruised.

It wasn’t uncommon to see notices in the “missed connections” section of Craigslist for people experiencing symptoms after a rare brush with their intended. Morbidly, it was also typical for old couples to follow each other in death, not being able to survive through the lovesickness that accompanied the loss of their soulmate after decades together. 

She was pretty sure she’d been through it. Most people were confident in that distinction, but Emma still didn’t know, because lovesickness looked and felt an awful lot like morning sickness. 

For the upteenth time that day, Emma shook her head, trying to clear away the ghosts of the past. “He doesn’t have it; you guys are too young.” The one perk to this whole cosmic system was that it couldn’t happen until after puberty. 

“I dunno; he was pretty confident about it. Said he kissed Violet on the playground last week so he’s probably taken.”

Emma chuckled. “It doesn’t happen that fast. He’ll be fine. But maybe watch what you eat at school, okay?”

“Okay. Can I bring pizza tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

The rest of their nightly routine went per usual: Emma looking over his homework, forcing him to take a shower before she took one too, then watching an episode of Stranger Things before he went to bed. 

Maybe he was getting too old for it, but she still tucked him each night. “Love you, Mom,” he murmured, already half asleep. 

“Love you, too, kid,” she replied, placing a kiss on his forehead. Even if she shied away from that stuff herself, she never wanted Henry to miss out on those little endearments she never had. 

She took one last look at him before leaving his room. He was getting so big, and looking more and more like his dad every day; but when he was asleep, he still looked like the baby she’d once rocked in her arms. 

So that was why she protected herself. That was why she cut off physical contact as much as possible with anyone else. That was why she didn’t want to risk her heart like that again. Sure, she craved that kind of intimacy sometimes, but she’d made her peace that it a while ago. No lovers, no soulmates, just a few friends. Nothing that could potentially take her away from being the best mom Henry could have.

At least, that’s what she’d been telling herself for 11 years. She didn’t want to believe anything else, even though she was keenly aware of the heartbreak that lay under everything. 

She retired to her room and flopped down on her big, empty bed, falling asleep eventually. 

And if she dreamed that there was someone to share that bed with...well, she’d talk it up to her brain being weird. 

She didn’t do soulmates. 

*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*

“Seriously?”

“Oh, come on, Emma; it’ll be fine. You can play nice for one night.”

Emma sighed into the phone. Her sister-in-law, Snow—the living, breathing embodiment of peace, hope, and love—had a long track record of trying to surreptitiously shove eligible singletons Emma’s way. She was understanding about Emma’s avoidance of relationships and physical contact, and the need to put Henry first, but only to a point. By no means did she think that romantic love was the key to true happiness, but she herself had found her fairytale true love and its accompanying bliss; shouldn’t everyone experience that?

“Debatable.” And apparently, Emma would be subject to Snow’s fledgling matchmaking yet again at their weekly dinner. “What’s this guy’s deal?” 

“Oh, you know how David picks up strays.” They shared a giggle at that; it was true—not only did David work at an animal shelter, but he had a tendency to pick up wayward humans as well, Emma being a prime example. She was 15 when the Nolans legally adopted her. “But Killian is—well, he’s like you.”

Both Emma’s curiosity and hackles rose. “What does that mean?”

“It means he’s not looking for a soulmate, either. So it’s not a setup or anything.”

“Uh-huh.” She’d heard that one before.

“It’s not!”

“Why do I feel like this is some sort of reverse psychology thing?”

There was a pause. “Was it really that obvious?”

Emma sighed again, chuckling slightly. “You know I know when you’re lying.”

“I know, I know. But you’re still coming, right?”

“Yes, of course.” One random guy wasn’t enough to put Emma off their tradition. Her only other option would be to sit at home by herself on a Friday while Henry was at a sleepover, and she wasn’t that lame, even if she was a 28-year-old single mother who hadn’t really socialized in over 11 years.

“Okay, good. See you and your wine in a few hours! Bye!”

Maybe someday, Emma would be able to soak up some of the effervescent optimism that her sister-in-law constantly bubbled. But today wasn’t that day.

Because now Emma had to pick a new outfit, and she was unusually annoyed. Given the muggy heat, she was going to let herself wear shorts and a tank top; David and Snow were the only people, outside of Henry, that Emma could let her guard down around, physically or otherwise. People only had one soulmate so there was no risk at contact there when David and Snow were each other’s, and even less so with David being her brother, even if not biologically; the universe may be a dick sometimes but at least it wasn’t gross.

But if someone else was going to be there, she’d have to wrap back up. These were the moments she wondered if it was worth it, keeping herself protected—if she died of heatstroke, it wouldn’t matter either way. And maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have normal human interactions with people, and it might not be so bad to go on a date or two—some kind of adult activity. David and Snow were proof that it wasn’t all bad, even if it was sickly sweet sometimes; she had more than a few moments of jealousy ever since they met, way back in high school.

But then the past would rear its head and she’d remember why she put herself through this. No, she was better off without.

She sighed and sadly pulled off the cute sleeveless blouse she was wearing. She didn’t usually do wear something so girly and was kind of looking forward to it. Although...the red flowers in it did match her jacket...

Giving it a shot, she tugged on a long-sleeved shirt, then slipped the blouse back on. The layered look was still a thing, right? And the blue background on the blouse matched her jeggings. It worked. She paused a bit to admire her reflection, then started to head out, grabbing her jacket and the wine from the kitchen before slipping on her gloves and heading out.

The AC in her old yellow Bug was cranked all the way up as she made the 20-minute trip to her brother’s house, tucked away in one of the nicer, if small, neighborhoods. She pulled into the driveway of their little bungalow and immediately groaned when she saw the car already parked there: an unfamiliar old Chevy muscle car that screamed “douchebag”.

Her mind’s eye was already conjuring the image of some alpha male gym rat, or worse, some preppy rich kid who was a third cousin of the Kennedys and made sure you knew it. She started bracing herself for a less-than-enjoyable evening in the mad dash between her car and the front door, lest she melt before getting inside.

But there was no one in the front room when she let herself in. “Hello?” she called out, carefully making her way through the house; crap, what if this guy had killed them or something? Thank goodness Henry wasn’t here. She started glancing around for blunt objects to use as weapons, until she remembered she had a full bottle of wine in hand; it’d be a waste of booze, but it’d do the job.

“Out here!” came Snow’s voice through the door to the back yard. Emma relaxed a little, knowing they were alive, but still didn’t let her guard down; that wasn’t something she did easily. 

Although, looking back, maybe if she had relaxed a little, she wouldn’t have been so tense and focused on her family’s well-being that she skipped the last step down to the patio, making her lose her footing, drop the wine, and fall—into unfamiliar arms.

Her hair fell over her face in a curtain, both protecting her from and blinding her to whoever had caught her. But the jacket she could feel under her gloves wasn’t something David would wear this time of year, and those definitely weren’t her brother’s boots or skinny jeans.

“Woah there, lass—you alright?”

And that really wasn’t David’s English accent.

Instinctively, she let go of his (admittedly firm) biceps and fell backwards, definitely sticking her hand in the shattered glass of the bottle—she could feel it cut through her glove to her palm—but putting a good amount of distance between her and this Killian guy.

She hissed at the cut, and quickly brushed her hair aside with the other hand to inspect the damage. The glove was wrecked, but she couldn’t tell what of the red stuff on her hand was blood and what was wine.

Shade fell on her as David and Snow hovered, but the stranger was the only one who intervened. “Let me see,” he said, and rached for her forearm.

“It’s fine,” Emma tossed back, more out of habit than anything. It certainly stung, but her biggest worry was that she’d have an uncovered hand.

“Your hand is cut. Let me see,” the man demanded, his tone just commanding enough to jolt her. Who the hell did he think he was?

Before she could protest again, he grabbed her wrist and tugged it toward him—with another gloved hand. That was...unexpected. She finally dared to look at him, but all she could see was a mess of dark hair and a strong nose as he inspected her palm.

“It’s not that deep, thankfully,” he assessed, and even from this angle, she could see his thick brows furrowing in study. “But we should still clean it up.”

And then he looked up at her, and all her desire to tell this cocky asshole off was put on hold. Because she was staring into what were probably the bluest eyes she’d ever seen, and that tender a gaze should not belong to someone she’d literally just fallen onto. He should be mad, shouldn’t he? Wasn’t that usually what happened? But, if she was reading this correctly, he was worried...about her?

Did she hit her head, too? What the hell was going on?

She just blinked and gaped at him, until David stepped in front of her to help pull her up. She didn’t shy away from his touch, or the hug he gave her once she was upright. “I’ll clean up the bottle; you let Killian take care of you.”

“Okay,” she mumbled back, and followed Killian back into the house. It wasn’t until they were in the upstairs bathroom that she came out of her fog—more specifically, when he was pouring rubbing alcohol on her cuts. “Ah—what the hell?”

“I tried to warn you,” he replied curtly, then lightly dabbed at the mess with a hand towel. She noticed that he hadn’t taken his own gloves off yet, despite somehow managing to get her trashed one off without her noticing.

“‘S okay,” she muttered. He was almost clinical as he cleaned the (mostly wine) mess from her hand and applied ointment, though it didn’t escape her notice that one hand was noticeably stiffer than the other.

“Alright, I’m gonna wrap it up, but I might need your help; this requires a bit more dexterity than this thing can offer,” he explained, holding up the stiff hand.

“It’s a fake?”

“Aye; a good one, but not perfect.” Part of her wanted to ask, but she swallowed down her untoward curiosity.

They passed the roll of gauze between the two of them until her palm was covered, but she gave him a surreptitious once-over while they worked: he too was dressed in an unseasonable black leather jacket, the jeans she’d noticed earlier, and a navy oxford shirt with the collar popped, buttoned to his neck.

“Aren’t you hot?” she asked as he secured the end of the bandage; it was a tight wrap, but not constricting, making her wonder where he learned first aid.

He just smirked, which cut a dimple into the gingery scruff that covered his sharp jaw. “Does that mean you find me attractive, love?” he tossed back as he cleaned up the tiny mess they’d made.

She huffed; maybe she was right about her first assessment of this guy—what kind of cocky jerk said that? (Even if it was true.) “Not what I said. It was a question; not a statement.”

He put the bandage wrapper in the trash and then gathered the soiled towel. “I’d explain it, but I think you already know the answer.” His eyes traveled down her body much like she’d just done to him, then intensely met her gaze, an expressive eyebrow arched almost in challenge.

Something about him made her squirm, but she couldn’t tell if it was in a good or bad way yet. Or if maybe she really was sweating to death in this outfit. 

He stepped toward her, and she sucked in a breath, instinctively moving away from him. “It’s alright,” he assured her, holding his hands up where she could see them as he continued toward the bathroom door. “Just going to toss this and head back outside.”

If the manner of dress weren’t enough, the fact that he was able to read her reaction definitely confirmed the fact: he was trying to avoid touch as much as possible, too.

“Yeah,” she answered, trying (and failing) to play it cool. “Uh, thanks.”

“My pleasure,” he said, with a slight bow of his head, then turned and headed out of sight.

She sighed once he left. What the hell had just happened? What kind of guy just cleans wounds for people he doesn’t know, especially one who apparently held the same no-touching policy? 

And why did she let him? She was no stranger to cleaning up her own injuries—at least, the ones that didn’t require a trip to the ER. She was a mom, for god’s sake; she was usually the one fixing boo-boos.

She took a deep breath and let it out, trying to shake some of these weird nerves off. Then actually shook—her head, hands, arms, whole body. It helped, but she still felt a bit off-tilt. And she didn’t even have any wine to help her deal with it. Fuck.

But she couldn’t hide in the half-bath forever, so she fixed her hair in the mirror and then headed back to the yard. Killian was already there, seated under the umbrella at the patio table nursing a beer. Dave was manning the grill while Snow picked up the bottle shards.

“Hey, let me help—” Emma tried to intervene, but Snow brushed her off. 

“It’s fine; I don’t want you to get cut again. Just grab a drink and have a seat.”

Even though she couldn’t see Snow’s face, Emma was pretty sure it had a self-satisfied smirk on it. They’d probably just reenacted some romance novel trope and she could see another one about to play out—and Snow knew it.

Emma grabbed a beer from the cooler by the grill, making sure to quickly tease Dave on his mediocre grilling skills, and then turned her attention to the table. The smart thing for her would be to sit opposite Killian, keeping the full table and umbrella pole between them. But that would force Snow and David to sit opposite as well, and it was kind of an unspoken rule that they never did that; it made it too hard for one to grab the other’s hand and mentally share some piece of gossip or inside joke.

So Emma took her seat next to Killian, but made sure the chair was a respectable distance away from his. It was a little awkward at first, because he seemed just as (not) interested in conversation as she was, but there was still a heaviness to the air that had nothing to do with the humidity.

“Um, thanks again,” she started, not knowing how else to break the unsteady silence.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, brushing it off with another sip of his beer. Whatever softness she’d seen earlier was back in hiding; she couldn’t really judge him for it when that was her usual MO.

It got quiet again, until David started yelling and jumping away from the flames shooting up from the grill.

“Fuck!” “Bloody hell!” they shouted at the same time. 

David was fanning it with a potholder when Snow rushed to his side. “What the heck are you doing?” she chastised, then jumped forward and turned down the heat. “Are you trying to show off, you pyromaniac?”

The pair at the table snorted as Snow continued to lecture him about grill safety, even if they couldn’t hear half of it; the look on her face as she held tight to David’s forearm and stared him down said everything.

“Are they always like this?” Killian asked, his tone lighter than it had been a minute ago.

“Oh my god, always. And it’s been like this for 12 years.”

“Damn.”

Snow stormed off inside while David slunk back to the grill and pulled the steaks off of it.

“And they’re really soulmates?” Killian wondered, though she couldn’t tell if it was rhetorical or not.

“Yup,” was all she answered, and took another sip of beer.

Killian just hummed and stared at the condensation rings from his bottle on the glass-top table. There was something dark and faraway in his gaze; part of her knew it wasn’t her business, but a weird part of her wanted to cheer him up.

“Would you believe that those two are trying to set us up?” she said quietly and conspiratorially.

“Huh?” He looked up, blinking; it took a moment for his eyes to refocus on her. “Oh, aye; I had a suspicion.”

She wasn’t sure if she should be offended or relieved at his indifference. “Yeah, they tend to do that. So, you might wanna get used to it.”

He took another long sip. “David knows my feelings on that matter; I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

Emma snorted again. “Dude, I’m his sister. He knows exactly why I’m not interested in anything and that still hasn’t stopped them.”

“And why is that?”

“I—” She cut herself almost immediately, because she was just about to spill her life story to this guy who she’d met literally half an hour ago. She didn’t even like thinking about all that, let alone discussing it. So why was she so ready to spill all her beans? “I don’t really like talking about it,” she finally said, in a small voice.

“I know the feeling,” he answered, just as somberly. “Cheers to tragic backstories?” He extended his arm to her, bottle leaning forward in invitation to a toast.

“Cheers,” she said back, clinking the glasses together (but holding back a bit in case of another shatter). 

Typically, the idea of meeting someone with as much emotional baggage as she carried sounded exhausting; but with Killian, she couldn’t help but be curious. It wasn’t uncommon for someone to shun the idea of soulmates, but it was rare to go to the lengths that she and Killian were going to. She heard the tuts and saw the pitying stares from people as she went about her day, especially this time of year when it was so obvious. And she was usually good about not letting it get to her—all she had to do was see Henry’s face to remind her why she did it. She’d never met anyone else who did, though, and wondered a bit at what Killian’s reasons were.

But, as she reminded herself, she’d just met the guy; it was hardly appropriate to pry when she wasn’t about to reveal anything herself. Thankfully, Snow arrived at the table at that moment with a tray covered in food, and they dug into the meal, maintaining a casual level of chat the whole time. It turned out that David met Killian while he was out for a run; David was the crazy type to go out at dawn, so when he ran into someone else doing that, it took his notice and they bonded almost immediately. That wasn’t a rare thing in David’s life, but based on the bashful expression on Killian’s face, she could tell it was for him. 

After dinner had been cleared away and the pie brought out, Snow declared, “Oh, this was so nice. I’m so glad you were able to come, Killian.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, milady; thanks for the hospitality.”

“Oh, don't mention it,” she waved off. “I just wish he could have met Henry, too!”

“Who’s Henry?”

“My son,” Emma interjected. Who would probably also try to pull Killian into their family sphere; he was a lot like her brother in that regard. “He’s at a friend’s tonight, but this is our weekly tradition.”

“I’m not intruding, am I?” He seemed worried all of a sudden.

“No,” the other three were quick to assure him. “Besides,” Snow continued, “it seems like you're fitting right in. You two seemed to be getting on well,” she added with a wink.

“Too much, Snow,” David muttered beside her, focusing on clearing dishes.

“What? I’m just saying—”

Gently, David placed his hand over hers and found her gaze. It was pretty obvious again to imagine the private conversation they were having, but it still made Emma feel like she was invading their privacy, so she went back to picking at her pie crust. A glance at Killian saw him doing the same.

After a long awkward silence that the couple was completely unaware of, David removed his hand and started gathering plates. “Well, I mean what I said,” Snow continued, albeit a bit less forcefully. “You’re welcome here anytime.”

“I appreciate that,” he said softly, blushing a bit if she wasn’t mistaken—it was hard to tell in the shade of the umbrella if it was that, or just overheating. “I’ll be sure to bring better beer next time, too; is this really what you Yanks consider good ale?”

“I heard that!” David shouted from the open kitchen window.

“‘Yanks’?” Emma teased. “You sound like you just got off the boat from England.”

“I did,” he quickly replied. “In fact, it’s still docked in the harbour.”

“It’s been—what, a month?” Snow added.

“About that, yeah,” he confirmed. “And I still haven’t managed to find anything better than barley water to drink.” He glanced down at the label of his beer. “Sam Adams? Sounds like a ponce.”

“Mm, those are fighting words around here,” Emma threw back with a grin; she hardly even noticed how fast, or how easy it was, to slip into banter with him. “And I think we already know who won that war.”

“Yeah, but we got the good beer, so it’s probably a draw.”

It was kind of amazing how quickly they fell into casual conversation, especially when she usually hated insincere smalltalk. Killian was funny and charming, and despite the apparently short time they’d known each other, always had a ready quip for David. It was kind of adorable seeing the way his eyes sparkled and the fine lines next to them crinkled as he laughed.

Wait, what? Admitting he was attractive was one thing—not like anyone could argue against it—but...being endeared to him? That was a whole other level of nope she didn’t want to deal with.

But then he told another joke and that concern was put back on the backburner.

Eventually, the evening wrapped up, and Killian cited work as a reason for leaving early. She kind of felt bad—ever since she’d mentioned the weekly tradition thing, she could see an uneasiness in his eyes that told her he felt like he was trespassing; she knew it because it was how she felt in most of the actual family homes she’d been in growing up, and for a long while at the Nolans, even after the ink dried on the adoption forms. 

“I hope he didn’t feel like he had to leave,” Snow said, echoing Emma’s thoughts, while the two of them were doing the dishes—with no more threat lurking, Emma had removed her other glove and her jacket, finally feeling a bit cooler. “He’s still so new here, and I don’t think he’s had time to make many friends yet.”

Part of Emma wanted to protest on his behalf—she still remembered being so overwhelmed by the Nolans initial drive to introduce her to anyone and everyone; even to this day, she only maintained a few good friendships and only a handful of casual ones. If Killian was as skittish or uncomfortable in that regard as she was, he wouldn’t want to be paraded in front of half the city.

But she also knew how good it was to find that kind of connection and support with someone like she had with Snow; they were close even before the discovery of her and David’s soulmate status. Emma didn’t doubt he had friends back in England, but having someone stateside would no doubt make the transition easier; it definitely would have as a kid.

“Well, at least he’s got us,” she finally answered. 

Friends. She could totally do friends.

Right?

----------------------------------------------

thanks for reading! Hope you stick around for the next couple chapters!

tagging some peeps: @kat2609 @thesschesthair @optomisticgirl @fergus80 @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @amortentia-on-the-rocks @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @word-bug @pirateherokillian @bleebug @its-imperator-furiosa @killianmesmalls @effulgentcolors @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @stubble-sandwich​ @killian-whump​ @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @idristardis

[shippingtheswann]

Answering the Call

A/N – this is my first ever One Shot. It is based off the prompt found on @bleebug Tumblr – Best friend CS AU where Emma butt-dials Killian when confiding in her friend(s) about her feelings for him, and he just sits there listening, confused and ecstatic and feeling like a jackass for eavesdropping, but mostly just relieved that his love isn’t unrequited like he’s believed for years. My story takes a little bit of a different route, but still has it all. 

----------

His night wasn’t ending on a good note. There was no way after the day he had. He spent the last twelve hours preparing a presentation, and all he had to show for it was a slide that had his name and his professional information Killian Jones, COO, Jones INC. He was no where close to being ready for the conference next week. Normally, his brother Liam would be the one making the presentation. But, this time, Liam forced Killian to take on the job to impress potential investors and companies. He hated it. Public speaking wasn’t his strong suit – and neither was coming up with a way to make his company look good.

On top of that, he missed his weekly hang out with his friends. It had been a tradition that he looked forward to every week.

They would choose a new bar each week; trading off who was the designated driver (or the person who paid for the Uber) and who got to choose the location that week. You would think that after more than 5 years of weekly meetings, they would have run out of places to find – but each week, there was somewhere new within the hour drive of their universe.

Sure, Killian could normally tell what kind of bars he would be going to each week, simply based off his friend’s personalities – but he still enjoyed trying out new things. He especially enjoyed the company.

The past few weeks of bars had been an adventure to say the least. Mary Margaret and David had taken them to an 80’s themed pop up bar that had been opened and closed in quick succession. Ruby had decided on a biker bar out in the middle of nowhere that claimed to have the best moonshine. Regina took them up to Canada for her turn, opting for a special wine tasting at a place that looked like a castle. Trying to get 7 drunk Americans back into the country turned out to be easier than he expected. Graham had chosen another traditional sports bar.

Killian had been looking forward to this week. It was Emma’s turn.

Even though she wasn’t standing in front of him, his heart still skipped a beat when the thought of her.

Emma Swan was everything that Killian wanted but couldn’t have. She was untouchable. Not only was she too perfect for him – with her blonde hair and green eyes that brought just about every man she knew to his knees – but she had a dark sense of humor that Killian couldn’t get enough of. She was sarcastic half the time. She was the perfect drinking partner – never getting drunk enough to black out but keeping the pace with the men and showing them that she was just as much of a bad ass as they were. She was strong, yet gentle; loving but protected. She was perfect.

Ever since that night they met, Killian had been drawn to her; wanting to be around her every chance he got.

But, she was off limits. She was David’s adopted sister. She had been hurt in the past. She had walls sky high – and while Killian still worked on cracking those walls, he knew that nothing would ever come of it. David warned him the first night they met back in Freshman year. After another stupid frat party where Killian put on his best dashing rapscallion persona, David cornered him and told him to not mess with Emma.

They had grown up a lot in the last few years, but Killian knew it wasn’t enough to make Emma his, no matter how much he prayed for it to happen. And he knew that David wasn’t Emma’s keeper, that she could make her own decisions; but he respected David too much to cause any friction.

It was also worth remembering that Emma hadn’t once returned his affection.

As Killian walked through his apartment, in search of some much-needed aspirin, he remembered the last time that he brazenly flirted with Emma.

It was during their trip into Canada with Regina. They had all had too much to drink. When Regina said that she had paid her assistant to work extra hours and drive them home in the large van that she had rented, everyone pregamed in the van once they crossed the border. He could remember rolling his eyes when Regina had told them that they were traveling up in a rental van that night, but he couldn’t wait. He could remember pushing Graham out of the way to get to Emma’s side, not wanting anyone else to get all her attention. He remembered glass after glass of rum, even though Ruby was giving him a hard time about it being a vineyard. His hands, having developed a mind of their own, found Emma’s hair while they were sitting in a booth away from the crowd. As the night wore on, he got closer and closer to her, flirting a little bit more with each inch. Yet, she never reciprocated. She remained aloof. She was sweet and caring, but never crossed the line Killian was hoping she would. Her hands never traveled to him. They stayed firmly on her lap. The words that she whispered to him as he laid his head on her shoulder too tired to keep his eyes open as the van drove silently down the highway.

“You’re my best friend, I can’t”.

He had been placed in the friendzone – and he didn’t see himself ever leaving it. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear those words or not, but the weight they carried finalized everything.

While that thought weighed heavy on his mind, he also knew that just having her in his life was better than nothing. If all she wanted from him was a friendship, then he was willing to be that for her. All he really wanted was for her to be in his life forever, for her to cast her glow upon his life for eternity. So even if she never loved him the way he loved her, he was OK with that.

And he did. He loved Emma Swan as deeply as one could love. Everything he did, he did with her in mind. He took the job at Liam’s company simply because he knew he would be able to afford to give Emma the life she deserved, even if it meant sacrificing what he loved to do, which was sail. There was no real job market in sailing, but Liam’s investment company made money and provided Killian with a safety net he knew Emma would need one day. He begged Liam to open a branch of the firm in Seattle, not wanting to be too far from his second family. He even purchased the apartment in hopes that one day he would share it with Emma. It was only a 10-minute walk to her job, and Killian abused that knowledge at times, randomly bumping into her on her lunch break or seeing her as she walked into the precinct in the mornings.

He popped the two pills and drank some water. It was nearing midnight and he was too tired to eat, even though the leftovers from dinner the night before were calling to him. He sat on his bed, his hands playing with his phone. He missed Emma, and the group. He missed their antics. They always ended up getting into trouble, even if they didn’t mean to. He wanted nothing more to just call Emma and talk to her. She always picked the best bars and he wanted to hear about everything that happened. His apartment was just too quiet.

He flipped the phone in his hands a few more times, then opened the screen and clicked on Emma’s name. He knew she would probably be asleep, but he just wanted to hear her voice, even if it was for only a few minutes. They hadn’t spoken at length since that night in Canada. Just a few casual conversations when they saw each other at last week’s bar hop. Graham hadn’t left Killian and David alone that night – there was a big game on that kept their attention on the screens.

The time that passed felt endless. The ringing of Emma’s phone kept his brain alert, while sending his body into shock at the same time. The nerves pulsing through his system would have been enough to kill just about anyone. After 4 rings, he didn’t think she would pick up and his heart sank. The feelings that washed over him were worse than the nerves that had been replaced. While he knew she probably wouldn’t answer, he got his hopes up again. Her voice came through the phone causing a slight smile to develop on his face. But, it was only her voicemail, telling the caller to leave her a message or to text her like a normal human.

“Hello Love, I was just calling to see how the night went. I missed you all, but Liam was insistent that I finish the presentation. Call me when you get a minute, or you know, text me. Either one. You know that I worry you didn’t make it home ok,” he said with a laugh, referencing his weird motherly concern, as Ruby called it, “I haven’t talked to you in a while and I just wanted to catch up. Well… have a good night Swan and hopefully I will talk to you soon”.

He hung up with a sigh.

He threw himself rather dramatically onto the bed. His arm came to wrap around his head, sheltering his eyes from the beaming light on his ceiling.

Just as his thoughts started to drift towards the deep end, where he would wallow in self pity thinking that he ruined his friendship with Emma that fateful weekend, his phone rang in his hands.

She appeared on the screen, all bright and beautiful. It was a picture Killian had taken of her one weekend the group traveled down to San Diego. She was sitting on the beach, the ocean sparkling in the background. The strings of her bikini poking out from her red coverup. The large straw hat she wore to block out the sun bent back. Her smile was contagious, as she had just finished laughing at something Mary Margaret had said. He cursed himself for ever making that picture her caller ID. He wanted to stare at it more than talk to her.

He forced himself to answer the call.

“Good evening Love,” he started, waiting to hear her angelic voice answer him back.

He could hear mumbling, but no one spoke directly to him. There was laughter in the background.

“Emma,” he said, a bit louder than normal.

Still, no one answered. There was some scratching on the phone, and then things came in a bit clearer.

Ruby’s unique laughter came through the phone. He could hear Mary Margaret shushing everyone else. Regina’s voice then came in. He was able to hear the words out of her mouth, but something was muffling the noise.

“Come on Emma, Truth or Dare?” Regina said.

He could hear more giggling, then the woman he loved said “Truth”.

It finally dawned on him that Emma must have butt dialed him. Emma’s iPhone had been known to do that a few times. It was so old, and she refused to upgrade it even though her plan allowed her to. Yet, Emma kept the beat-up thing that took nothing more than any piece of fabric touching it to unlock it. A few times, she had accidently dialed her Captain when she was putting her phone in her pocket. He laughed to himself before yelling her name one last time.

“Emma” he screamed into the phone.

No reply.

As he moved the phone away from his face, about to hang up the call, he heard something that had him pulling the phone back towards his ear.

“Alright, tell us how you really feel about Killian,” Regina

He felt wrong to listen, but something in him needed to know what Emma felt.

There was a round of laughter as the girls were probably getting settled to hear Emma’s confession. He could imagine them. Regina was probably sitting in a chair, her icy eyes focused on Emma. Mary Margaret was probably on the floor, trying to contain her excitement. Ruby was probably lying down, taking up the whole couch of whoever’s apartment they were at. It was Emma that he had troubles imagining.

Was she smiling as Regina asked the question? Did her heart start to skip at beat at the mention of his name, the way it did for him? Were her cheeks flushed because of thoughts of him?

“Killian’s my best friend,” Emma said, muffled by her pocket. He could hear a smile in her voice.

“Come on Swan, there is more to that – tell us how you really feel about Killian,” Regina said, this time a bit more forceful than before.

He heard a sigh and he felt his heart completely stop; the breath caught in his chest.

“Oh, fuck it,” she started, her voice coming in a bit clearer, “I love the man. OK! I love him. I’ve loved him for years.”

He almost dropped the phone. Everything that was happening suddenly stopped – time stood still. Emma Swan loved him. The woman he loved, that he would go to the ends of time and space for loved him back. He heard the words straight from her mouth. Yet, the words didn’t sound exciting and promising. They sounded sad. It was if a knife was slowly cutting out his heart. She loved him, but clearly that love wasn’t enough.

“But I’m scared OK. I’m scared of what loving him might mean,” she concluded.

“What do you mean?” Ruby asked.

“Remember when we all went to that bar Regina found a few weeks ago,” she paused, probably waiting for her friends to nod their understanding, “Killian was being just so… Killian. He was the perfect gentleman and the whole night, I just imagined what being with him would be like. We aren’t even dating, but he was constantly touching me, throwing attention my way. What would that be like if we were actually together? Then, in the van, he put his head on my shoulder, and suddenly, my feelings smacked me right in the face. And then I got scared. He is my best friend – what would happen if I lose him? What would happen if I lose our friendship? I couldn’t live with that.  The last few weeks, with us barley talking because I got scared of my feelings, has been so rough. All I’ve wanted to do is talk to him, be near him; it’s been torture.”

Killian let a breath out. A thousand things were running through his mind. How could he be so blind to what Emma was going through? How could he get her to change her mind and be with him? He needed to make her see that no matter what, they would be OK. She needed to understand that he would never do anything to hurt her, that he would spend eternity making sure that what they used to have will always be there, as a strong foundation to what they were going to have.

“Oh Emma,” Mary Margaret’s soothing voice echoed in his ear, “You can never be sure what is going to happen, but you can’t live your life surrounded by fear. Fear is natural and serves a purpose, but you can’t let it control your happiness. Love, true love, the love that I know you have for Killian and he has for you, is worth the risk of anything that may happen.”

“You really think he loves me?” her voice was barely audible.

“Of course, he does!” he heard Ruby yell.

“The man isn’t the brightest, but he isn’t a dumbass, of course he loves you,” Regina quipped.

Killian rolled his eyes at the words, but she was right – he did love her.

“What should I do?” Emma questioned.

“You tell him, you tell him everything. Be honest with him. Tell him you are scared. Tell him you don’t want to lose his friendship. But start with telling him you love him,” Mary Margaret told him.

He could hear shuffling, movement of fabric over the phone. Then, everything got very clear.

“Oh shit,” he heard Emma whisper, her voice louder than it had been before.

Suddenly, her face appeared on his phone. She must have turned on her FaceTime app.

“Well hello there love,” he smiled, not hiding the cocky grin that was now splashed across his face.

“How much of that did you hear?” She asked, her cheeks reddening.

“Enough to tell you that I love you too,” he said.

Maybe the night was going to end on a good note.

[kmomof4]

Well, I did it again...

I wrote another fic... 

Well, here we are again. I honestly didn’t think I’d ever write another fic, and I still can’t believe I did it, but when I finally bought and downloaded one of my youngest’s favorite movies, the ending gave me massive CS feels. So after plenty of hand-holding, encouragement, cheerleading, and brilliantly executed beta duties from none other than @hollyethecurious, @winterbaby89, and @shireness-says, I present to you my second CS fic. I hope you all like it. There are two instances of strong language and the fic is rated T because of that. Many thanks to @winterbaby89 for the use of her original character from The Red Dress Affair. This is an unapologetically stupid disaster movie fic, based on the 1997 Tommy Lee Jones movie Volcano. I have taken a massive amount of liberties with LA geography, field trip protocol, and established scientific fact to fit the purposes of the fic. Apologies to anyone who lives in the area and/or cares.

Tagging some folks who might be interested in reading something else from me. @artistic-writer @ilovemesomekillianjones @doodlelolly0910 @let-it-raines @profdanglaisstuff @resident-of-storybrooke @seriouslyhooked @branlovestowrite @flslp87 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @searchingwardrobes @pocket-anon @donteattheappleshook @kymbersmith-90 @snowbellewells @sherlockianwhovian @teamhook

Read more line after the first scene unless Tumblr ate it. Part 2 will be up on Tuesday.

State of Emergency ao3 link

Thursday, February 7, 2019

Emma Swan stood at the stove listening to the morning news in the background while scrambling eggs for herself and her son, Henry, before she sent him off to school. He had a big day ahead of him with his Kindergarten Buddy Field Trip to the La Brea Tar Pits. As a “senior” at his school, the entire sixth grade class had been assigned an upcoming kindergartener as a “buddy” to help them adjust to full day elementary school. There had been many functions and events over the course of the school year to foster the relationships between the seniors and their buddies, but this was the first field trip away from the school. Henry and his buddy, Roland Loxley, were very excited because of their shared love of fossils and anything prehistoric. And the fact that Roland was going to be spending the weekend with them while his parents were out of town didn’t hurt either. Emma turned toward her son as he sat himself down at the table. “Nothing better than a good breakfast, kid.”

“Yeah, yeah Mom. I know.” The signature eye roll complete with shrugged shoulders made its way across the face of the twelve year old.

“Most of you probably didn’t even notice, but we had a small earthquake this morning. The US Geological Survey reported a 2.8 magnitude earthquake centered under Beverly Hills at 4:37am.”

“Why are they even talking about this? It didn’t even wake me up! Think fast Henry! What do you do in an earthquake?” Emma asked him, placing his plate in front of him.

“Get under a door frame, put my head between my legs, and kiss my ass goodbye.” Henry then dug in to his eggs and toast with all the gusto of a teen boy who hadn’t been fed in 8 hours or more. Emma rolled her eyes as she sat down to her own plate, deciding the argument over his language wasn’t worth having this morning. The eggs and the rest of his breakfast were soon gone and she wondered if the clothes she’d bought him for this spring would still fit him come the end of March.

“Gotta go Mom. I’ll call you when Roland and I get home from the field trip.” Henry grabbed his bookbag from where it was hung on his chair and made his way toward the door, opening it to find his friends waiting to walk to the bus with him.

“Bye, kid. Have fun and make sure to keep track of Roland!” she shouted as she heard him greet them before they headed down the hallway.

Gulping down the rest of her coffee, Emma got up from the table and thought about the day she had ahead of her at the Office of Emergency Management; the next-to-last day before a two week long vacation that she and Henry had been looking forward to for months. Putting the dirty dishes in the sink - They can wait to go in the dishwasher - Emma grabbed her purse and phone just as it started ringing. Emma’s best friend and assistant Ruby’s name flashed on the screen before she swiped across it.

“What’s up Rubes? Isn’t it a little early for you to be calling me?” Emma shut and locked the door behind her as she walked down the hall toward the elevator. “I’m getting in the elevator, so I’m gonna lose you here in a second. I’ll call you when I get in the car.” Emma hung up as Ruby sputtered. Once in her car and headed toward downtown, she dialed Ruby back.

“Emma,” Ruby didn’t even say hello, and the urgency in her voice was very apparent as Emma sped down the I-10. “There’s some kind of leak near the intersection of Wilshire and Fairfax. Where they’re working on the red line. Paramedics are on their way, but the supervisor of the work crew is saying that 2 men have very serious burns. He’s pretty shaken up Ems.”

Ruby’s words trailed off and Emma heard a disturbing sound coming from the other end of the line. “What’s that sound?”

“The supervisor,” Ruby replied with a tone of disgust. “Expelling what was left of his breakfast.”

Emma frowned. “I’ll be to the Fairfax exit in about 10 minutes. Load up WOLF and meet me there.”

“You got it boss,” Ruby replied before hanging up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What’s going on?” Emma shouted as she got out, slamming the door of her vintage yellow bug behind her.

Ruby pulled up right behind her in their equipment truck, affectionately nicknamed WOLF. Jumping out and taking long strides to catch up, Ruby commented, “Just before the call came in, the Geological Survey measured a 2.2 earthquake centered under the tar pits.”

Emma stopped, startled at what she had just said. “What? The tar pits?”

“Yeah,” Ruby replied. “Not enough to be felt, but close enough to here that maybe they’re connected?” Emma could feel the blood drain from her face, and based on the way Ruby was looking at her the she noticed it, too. Grabbing her arm, Ruby asked, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“What?” Emma shook her head. “Oh, Henry is going on his Kindergarten Buddy field trip to the pits today. An earthquake underneath them isn’t exactly what a mother wants to hear.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” her friend said. “I mean, after all, if we discover that there is any real danger to the public, we’ll shut down both the pits and museum. Come on. Let’s see if we can figure out what happened here.”

Emma and Ruby made their way to the crest of the hill where they saw orange work crew tape around the open maw of the entrance to the sewer and subway workstations down below. Off to the side they also saw emergency vehicles and paramedics working feverishly over a body that, from this distance, was unrecognizable as human. As they ran down the hill, they could already see a black body bag being zipped up. Just catching a glimpse of the charred body within was enough for Emma’s breakfast to roll in her stomach and for Ruby to lose hers completely. Swallowing down the bile, Emma asked, “What happened here?”

The white-as-a-sheet man wearing a supervisor’s vest turned toward her and seeing her department issued jacket, swallowed heavily before answering. “We’re doing routine maintenance on the red line. Munk, Ham, and Foster over there were down there with Ramirez and Franks.” If possible, the man before her went even more pale as he gestured toward the paramedics. “Kitchens and I were up here.” The man gulped again. “W-w-we could hear the screams from here.”

“I’m so sorry.” Emma laid her hand on the shaken man’s shoulder. “I truly am, but I have to figure out what happened here so I can direct city resources if need be.”

“You’d best talk to one of them then,” he replied, lifting his chin in the direction of the men he’d just mentioned. His wide, frightened eyes made their way back to where one of the paramedics was sitting back on her haunches.

“Time of death,” she said, glancing at her watch, “8:22 am.”

Emma made her way over to the men the supervisor had pointed out. “I’m Emma Swan from the Office of Emergency Management. Can you tell me what happened?”

The tall, sandy haired man pointed to himself then his companions, “Mark Munk, Hollis Ham, Sam Foster.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” She grimaced, looking away. “Wish it was under better circumstances. What happened down there?”

“We were heading toward to maintenance platform. Franks and Ramirez were in front, then Ham and Foster, then me. It was hot. So hot.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as if he was relishing the cool morning air. “We couldn’t see much. All we had were our flashlights and helmets,” he trailed away, turning toward his companions.

Foster picked up the story then. “It was hot, but once we felt the earthquake stop, the heat was much worse.”

“You felt the earthquake? It was only 2.2!” Emma exclaimed.

“Yeah, we could feel it. Nothing major, but enough. Once it stopped, the heat really intensified. Franks and Ramirez were really having a hard time with it. It sounded like they were having trouble breathing, gasping and stuff, then they were hollering and fell down. It looked like they were trying to rip their clothes off. Ham and I grabbed them under their arms and dragged them back toward the ladder. It was so hot by then, none of us could hardly breathe.”

“We got back up topside,” Ham continued, “Hernandez had already called the paramedics.” His eyes widened as he saw the second body bag being zipped up over his coworker. “I’ve… I’ve never seen…” He turned away, hunched over as a barking sob escaped him.

Ruby had returned from cleaning herself up by this time, just as Ham finished his part of the tale. Emma turned toward her. “Ok, we need PPE and the thermal radiation temperature gun. We’ve got to go down there and see what’s what.”

“On it,” Ruby replied turning back toward the truck.

“Thank you very much gentlemen. You’ve been a great help.” She looked at each of them in turn. “I’m very sorry for the loss of your coworkers.”

Turning away from them, Emma headed back toward Ruby and WOLF. Arriving at the truck, Emma climbed in after Ruby as she was getting down the Personal Protection Equipment they’d need before they went underground. “It sounds like the earthquake may have had something to do with it, but whether it did or not, what those men felt down there, and was enough to kill two of them, certainly needs to be looked at.”

“Oh, you’re not gonna get any argument out of me, Emma.” The fear that Emma was also feeling was well banked behind the determination in the brunette’s eyes. Determination that Emma felt as well. “We can’t let this happen to anybody else.” Ruby took down the thermal radiation gun as she spoke, turning toward her friend.

“Agreed,” she said, “let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Damn! They weren’t kidding! What’s the temperature down here?” Emma shouted at Ruby as she made it to the bottom of the ladder.

“117° according to the gun,” Ruby hollered back.

“Ok, let’s go. I don’t know how far we can go before we have to turn back. This is something else!”

“No kidding! 132° and climbing fast!” Ruby shouted. She took a few steps forward. “I’ve got a reading here!” Shaking her head while studying the screen intently, Ruby said, “There’s some sort of fissure here. Gas and… something… I can’t tell what exactly… 748°!” Ruby’s eyes went as round as saucers. Her mouth falling open in an ‘o’. “EMMA! Back! Get back!” Ruby screamed, “Your suit is melting!”

Upon hearing Ruby’s scream, she noticed the smoke rising from both suits. “So is yours! We’ve gotta get out of here!” They both took off running toward the ladder; neither of them had realized they had moved about 15 feet away from its rungs. Reaching it, they both clamored to the top, collapsing onto the grass around the workstation.

Gulping in huge gasps of air as they tore off their helmets and suits, both women stared at each other wide eyed as Hernandez ran up toward them. “What?! What did you find? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah we’re fine,” Emma answered, still breathing heavily. “There’s a fissure down there. Hot gas and something else coming up out of it.” Raising herself onto her elbows, she started pointing all around the park they were in. “This Park needs to be evacuated. The red line needs to be shut down from South La Brea Avenue to South Crescent Heights. And get me the Geological Survey on the line. A geologist. Someone who can tell me what the hell is going on down there!”

Ruby scrambled away down the hill as soon as she was recovered enough to move. “Yes ma'am!”

Emma collapsed back on to the grass, before making her way to her feet and down the hill herself. Emma shook her head. Well, my day just got about a hundred times more crazy. Henry and the group should be at the tar pits by now. Should we shut them down? No. We’re far enough away from them, there’s not a concern for their safety. Yet. I’ll wait until I talk to the Geological Survey. Then decide.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good morning! My name is Killian Jones, and I’ll be the docent leading your tour of the La Brea tar pits today.” Killian looked out over the sea of about thirty faces, some bored, some looking anywhere except at him, and maybe five or six looking at him at least halfway interested.

He enjoyed volunteering at the tar pits on his day off from the US Geological Survey. Especially when the kids were already in love with the things he was going to be talking about. I mean, how can you not love a kid who can correctly pronounce Paramylodon Harlani? The two brown haired boys at the front of the group however, stared at him with rapt attention. Brothers maybe?

“We’ll be starting our tour in just a few minutes. As soon as the group ahead of us moves through. In the meantime, feel free to look over the masks from the PaleoIndian village in the display case on your right.”

The crowd moved over to the case, all except the two boys who did not seem eager to lose their places at the front of the group. “I’m Roland Loxley,” the little one said holding his hand out for Killian to shake.

“Well, hello there Roland,” Killian answered, a grin breaking out over his face as he reached out to grasp his hand. The kid had a surprisingly strong grip for one so small. “It’s nice to meet you. Is this your big brother?” he asked turning his attention to the older one.

Roland giggled and cut his eyes toward him as the older boy looked embarrassed. “No, he’s my buddy, Henry.”

“Oh, I see! It’s nice to meet you too, Henry,” Killian said, holding his hand out for him to shake as well. Henry looked a bit surprised as he took Killian’s hand in his own and shook.

“You too,” he replied. The glint he had noticed in the boy’s eye a few minutes earlier was back as he asked, “Do we get to go inside the fossil lab today?”

“Ah ha! Do we have a future paleontologist in our midst? Or a geologist maybe?” Killian’s delight at his speculation was hard to disguise as Roland looked to be prepping for takeoff, bouncing on the balls of his feet with his hand in the air like Horseshack from Welcome Back Kotter, Killian’s favorite late night binge show on Hulu.

“Ooo! Ooo! Me! Me! Me! I’m gonna be a paleontologist when I grow up! I have my very own Smilodon fatalis tooth at home! And a fossilized Venerupis philippinarum! And a Carcharocles megalodon tooth too!” Roland exclaimed. Poor Henry looked absolutely mortified at Roland’s excitement.

“Roland, can’t you please shut up?” the boy hissed, glancing back at Killian apologetically.

“Ahh! A saber tooth cat, clam, and giant shark tooth, huh? Well, it looks like you’re well on your way to a brilliant future in paleontology my boy,” he said, placing his hand on Roland’s shoulder. Turning back to Henry, Killian returned to his original question as most of the group started making their way back towards them. “Unfortunately, we will not be going inside the fossil lab today, but we will observe some of our scientists working in it. We will be on the observation deck outside. We will also be visiting the Lake Pit, Observation Pit, Project 23, and the Pleistocene Gardens. After lunch, we’ll enjoy the Ice Age Encounters and Titans of the Ice Age in the 3D theater. Is everybody ready?” he asked, getting everyone’s attention again, “Let’s go!” Killian swung his arm expansively as though to draw them all along and turned on his heel leading the way toward the first stop of their tour.

“Sorry about Roland’s enthusiasm earlier,” Henry halfway mumbled after he caught up with Killian. “He’s a cute kid, and he loves anything prehistoric, but he just doesn’t know when to turn it off.” Henry shrugged, while glancing over at his buddy chattering a mile a minute about how much he was looking forward to seeing the Columbian mammoth skeleton named Zed. “I mean, I love fossils and the Ice Age too and even have my own collection at home, much bigger than his,” he rolled his eyes, then glanced over at Killian obviously trying to gauge how his revelation was being received, “but I can at least control myself so I don’t look like an idiot.”

Killian chuckled, realizing that Henry was just as excited and enthusiastic about this field trip as Roland was, and was maybe a teeny bit jealous at being overshadowed by someone he saw as not as well versed in Ice Age history.

Killian looked down at the boy as they kept walking toward the Observation Pit. “Well, Henry, he’s young. And over-the-top enthusiasm is par for the course at that age. But I get it. I have an older brother that wanted to put a muzzle on me on a daily basis whenever I’d get wound up over something when we were kids. But keep in mind, that you have the same interest in what he is so enthusiastic about. You are in a very unique position to encourage that love or to quash it. He obviously idolizes you.”

“Really?” Henry asked, wide eyed. “How do you know?”

“Haven’t you noticed how almost every time he opens his mouth, he’s looking at you?” Killian replied.

“Oh… no, I guess I hadn’t. Well, all right. I’ll try not to let his enthusiasm get to me so much then.” The pensive look on Henry’s face evaporated as he looked up at him and smiled.

“That’s the spirit, lad!” Killian returned the smile and placed his hand on Henry’s shoulder and gave a light squeeze in support.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean ‘he’s not there’?” Ruby shouted into the phone at the unfortunate underling who was bearing the full weight of her wrath at Dr. Killian Jones’ absence. “Where is he? Isn’t this his full time job? We have something major happening underneath the tar pits today, and he needs to be here! Not galavanting around on his ‘day off’!” Ruby put air quotes around ‘day off’ as if the person on the other end of the line could see them. “There are two city workers who are dead this morning and my boss and I were nearly killed as well because of whatever is going on down there! Does he have an assistant? Anyone who might know where he is?” The other end of the phone went silent for a moment while Ruby huffed out her frustration.

The phone was picked back up again and a masculine Irish accented voice spoke. “This is Graham Humbert, Killian’s assistant. What can I do for you, ma’am?”

Ruby tried to roll back her irritation by taking a deep breath and beginning again. “This is Ruby Lucas, assistant to Emma Swan, director of the Office of Emergency Management. There is something going on under the tar pits. Something major. I’m sure you know about the earthquake a couple of hours ago. After it stopped, two city maintenance workers were killed because of leaking gas and something else, something burning that nearly melted Emma’s and my PPE suits off of our bodies. We need Dr. Jones down here to figure out what is coming up out of the fissure we found. Where can we find him?”

“He’s actually at the tar pits today,” Graham replied. “There was a huge school group coming today, and all docents were called up to work today. He normally volunteers on the weekend, but with the size of the group…” he trailed off.

“All right. Thank you very much for your help, Mr. Humbert.” Ruby was texting the information to Emma before she even hung up with the man.

“No problem, Ms. Lucas. Once you find him, I’m sure we’ll all be in touch.” The phone line went dead while Ruby continued to compose her message.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emma had stayed at the park overseeing the evacuation and rerouting the red line to avoid as much disruption to the transit schedule as possible when Ruby’s text came in.

Dr. Killian Jones is at the tar pits today volunteering because of the field trip.

Glancing at her phone to see what Ruby had found out, Emma continued her litany. “This way. Thank you for your cooperation. Everything is perfectly safe, this is only a precaution. Thank you, this way please.” When she got to the end of the line, she jogged over to one of her coworkers. “The geologist we need is at the tar pits today. I’m going to head over there to find him.”

Taking off at a slight jog down the hill, Emma pondered what she would find at the tar pits when she got there. Will there be any sign of what’s going on over here? Or under there? Just how big was the tour group for the head geologist with the US Geological Survey to be called up to work when there’s this kind of activity going on?

When she arrived at the picnic area outside the museum it was filled to capacity with kids and adults enjoying lunch in the late winter sunshine. Scanning over the teeming area, she spotted Henry and Roland sitting with a very attractive dark haired man she didn’t recognize as another parent or their teacher. Henry spotted her and waved shouting, “Mom! Hey Mom! Over here!”

The man looked up at her and seemed to choke on his sandwich, turning bright red as he tried to bring the coughing fit under control. Henry turned surprised eyes on him as the man tried to wave aside his concern all while Roland stood up on the bench and was beating him, very enthusiastically, on the back.

“You okay, Killian?” Henry asked.

“Fine lad, just went down the wrong pipe,” he replied, still trying to get his breath back. The huskiness of the accented voice did something crazy to Emma’s insides, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the gorgeous man’s voice sounded similar in the throes of passion. Down girl, she thought as she approached the table. He had black hair that looked artfully mussed, or he may have just had a habit of running his hands through it. Dark scruff lined his jaw with just a hint of ginger that she could see from where she was. He looked tall and lean in dark jeans, brown boots, and a blue henley underneath a black leather jacket.

“Hi Henry. Who’s this?” And why are you having lunch with my son went unspoken as she turned her gaze upon him, sending him into another coughing fit, all while scratching behind his ear.

“This is Killian, our d-, do-...”

“Docent,” Killian rasped out. He had finally gotten his coughing and breathing under control enough to speak.

“Docent,” Henry echoed. “He’s leading our tour today. We saw the mammoth skeleton and the fossil lab, and Project 23, the actual working dig Mom! It was so cool! I’m gonna work there when I grow up!” he gushed.

“Aye,” Killian replied still clearing his throat, “it’s kids like them that make the volunteering so worthwhile. Bright, inquisitive, with enough knowledge already to really make it fun. And there’s been a lot of that today hasn’t there lads?” he asked. The grin that split Henry’s face told Emma all she needed to know about how his morning went.

Emma smiled at her son’s enthusiasm. “Well, it sounds like you’ve had a great time today, kid.” Emma turned toward Killian, who was also smiling widely at the boys before he turned his blue eyes upon her. Emma was stopped in her tracks as she recognized the joy and affection in their depths. Affection, she realized, that was directed toward the two boys next to him. She shook her head briefly to get her thoughts back on track. “Did he say your name was Killian? You wouldn’t by any chance be Dr. Killian Jones would you?” she asked.

“That’s me,” he replied. “Can I help you with something?” he asked, standing from the table and extending his hand toward her. His azure gaze ran up and down her form, leaving a pleasant tingle in its wake, but when his eyes met hers, she saw nothing but openness and appreciation in his gaze. Not the greedy lust that she was normally subject to when checked out like that. She appreciated the distinction.

Emma grasped his hand firmly in her own as she answered him. “Just the man I’m looking for.” Killian flushed bright red again at her statement as he glanced away from her. “Emma Swan with the Office of Emergency Management. I need you.” That last statement seemed to send him into yet another coughing fit before he was able to bring it back under control.

“You need me?” he squeaked, about an octave too high, his face still flushed red, eyes wide.

“Well, I need your expertise.” Emma was secretly delighted at his apparent attraction, but schooled her features as she prepared to drop a very serious problem in the handsome man’s lap. “There have been two small earthquakes today. The second of them was centered here at the tar pits and is most likely responsible for the deaths of two city workers this morning. My assistant and I found a fissure underground near MacArthur Park, and the heat coming out of it nearly melted the suits we had on. We need you to figure out what is coming out of that fissure and help us manage this.”

Killian blanched and sat back down at the table. “I can’t leave right now…” he trailed away, obviously trying to figure a way out of the dilemma. “The school group is too big. I can’t…” He shook his head. “I can’t hand my group off to another docent, and there’s no one to take my place. Let me get my assistant on the phone and see what he can do. I’ll be done here in about an hour and a half,” he said, glancing at his watch, “and I can join you… where, exactly?”

“At the Office of Emergency Management, across the street from City Hall,” Emma stated.

“Barring any mishaps along the way, I should be there about three,” Killian replied. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started dialing. “Graham, we have a situation down here at the tar pits. I need you to get to the Office of Emergency Management, across from City Hall and find-” he turned his eyes back toward Emma.

“Ruby Lucas, my assistant,” she whispered to him.

“Ruby Lucas… Right,” he said, after a pause to listen. “What’s her number,” he whispered back to her.

She wrote Ruby’s number on a napkin that he repeated back into the phone. “I’ll meet you all there as soon as I’m done here. Probably about three.” Killian paused again. “Okay, I’ll see you then.” Killian put the phone back in his pocket. “Graham will get down there and find your assistant. They can get preliminary data pulled up, and they’ll have a better idea of what we’re looking at by the time I get there.” Killian’s cerulean gaze met her own. The seriousness of the situation was not lost on either of them as Henry interrupted the unspoken moment.

“What’s happening, Mom? Did you say two workers died, and you nearly did because of what’s happening here?” Henry’s brown eyes were way too bright, Emma realized, for him to not have been affected by what he heard her say.

Damn… he always was too smart for his own good. I should have taken Killian aside before I talked to him. Well, there’s nothing for it... Emma placed her hands on his shoulders. Crouching before him and making sure he was looking in her eyes she answered, “Yes, but I’m fine, and Ruby is fine. We’re gonna do all we can to find out what’s going on here to make sure that no one else is hurt or killed. Okay?”

Henry nodded hesitantly. “O- okay, Mom. Be careful, alright?”

“Always, kid. I love you,” she said, pulling him into her arms and hugging him tight.

“I love you, too,” he murmured into her shoulder. “I’ll see you tonight?” he asked, looking at her again.

“I don’t know, kid. It depends on what we find here. When you get home, call me first then Uncle David. He can come stay with you until I get home.” Emma got back on her feet and turned toward Killian as Henry whined.

“Mooooom! I’m twelve years old! I can-” the petulant face of the pre-teen nearly made her laugh, but she smothered it under a light cough. The smirk and raised eyebrows from Killian, indicating that her cough didn’t fool him for a minute, was almost her undoing.

“Exactly, you’re twelve years old and you’re not staying home by yourself for who knows how long.” Emma turned back toward Killian and said, “I’ll head over to the office too, and see you there about three. Let me give you my number, in case something happens and we need to get in touch.” Emma held out her hand expectantly.

A glimmer of glee flashed in Killian’s eyes as he got his phone back out and handed it over to her to type in her number. “Sure, and I’ll only use it in case of an emergency. Although,” he lowered his voice and moved more into her personal space as she typed, "I do hope that when this is all concluded, you might let me keep your number to use in a more... personal fashion."

Emma looked up and handed his phone back to him with a smirk of her own. “We’ll see, Casanova. Take care of my kid. I’ll see you later. Bye Henry. Have fun.” Emma turned away from them and walked away. And if she injected just a slight swing to her hips for Killian’s benefit, then no one needed to know that but her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killian watched as Emma walked away from him with a swing in her hips that made him grin from ear to ear as he enjoyed the view. Turning back to his group, he called, “Okay everyone. Time to clean up. Make sure all your trash is collected and thrown away. Let’s leave the picnic area better than when we found it.” After cleaning up, the group marched back in to the museum to continue their prehistoric adventure with Ice Age Encounters and Titans of the Ice Age, the 3D movie.

After the movie, Henry and Roland were chattering excitedly with Killian smiling down at them when the ground beneath them started to shake. Killian turned quickly toward the group and shouted to be heard above the din of the shaking building.

“Everyone come over here, follow me, cover your heads with your arms. Adults, cover your own heads and get kids underneath you as best you can.”

Killian led them all to the wall next to the glass case they had examined that morning containing the masks from the PaleoIndian village. As they reached the wall, a particularly violent tremble sent Roland careening forward into the display case. His forehead connected with the corner of the case as the trembling in the earth started to taper off. Roland’s cries were more than enough to compensate for the sudden lack of rumbling underneath them. Killian grabbed Roland up, cradling him in his arms as he looked for where all the blood was coming from.

“Is he okay Killian? Will Roland be okay?” Henry’s scared voice piped up from beside him.

“If his cries are any indication, he’ll be just fine, Henry. We need to get him cleaned up and get some ice on the cut. If he needs stitches, we’ll make sure he gets to the hospital.” Killian turned his back to the door of the bathroom and pushed his way through it, as Roland’s cries only increased in volume, maybe at the prospect of stitches. “Go to the main desk, Henry, and ask for Belle, tell her what happened and that she needs to enact emergency contact protocols for Roland, then ask for an ice pack.” Given his marching orders, Henry disappeared through the door as one of the parents in his group pushed his way in.

“The tour is over right, Killian?” the frightened man asked. “We’re done? Free to go?”

Killian was wetting a paper towel to clean off Roland’s face, as he turned to the man. “Yes, that’s correct. Thank you for your time and attention today. If you would spread the word to the rest of the group, I’d appreciate it,” he said, turning his attention back to the boy. As he got the blood wiped away from his charge’s face, he saw a long, jagged cut just above Roland’s left eyebrow. Henry made his way back into the bathroom with a bag full of ice just then and handed it to the boy. Killian noticed Belle hovering just outside the bathroom.

“Here, put this where it hurts Roland. You’ll be fine,” Henry said, reassuringly.

“Aye, lad. Just a cut. But it looks like it’ll need stitches. I’ll be right back after I talk to Belle.” Killian’s calm gaze was doing a lot to settle both boys down after the fright they’d had.

Killian stood in the bathroom doorway as Belle began, “I’ve contacted Roland’s parents, but after dropping him off at school this morning, they left town for the weekend. He’s staying with Henry and his mother until they get back on Sunday. They gave their consent to go to the hospital if he needs stitches, but I can’t find anyone from the school to take him in all the chaos.”

“Don’t worry about that, Belle. I’ll take him to Cedars Sinai. My mate’s wife works in the Emergency Room. She’s a doctor.”

“Really?” Henry, overhearing, turned wide eyes upon Killian. “My aunt works at the Cedars Sinai Emergency Room too. Maybe they know each other.”

Killian chuckled, “Aye lad. Maybe. Okay. Let’s go.”

Roland’s tears had been reduced to occasional hiccups as Killian hoisted him off the counter. Holding out his hand for the little boy to take, Killian led them out of the building toward the parking lot. He unlocked his classic SS Chevelle and ushered the boys inside, admonishing them to buckle their seat belts before heading toward the hospital.

About ten minutes later they were pulling up outside the Emergency Room bay. Henry and Roland, still with the ice pack pressed to his forehead, climbed out while Killian left to park the car. When he joined them a few minutes later, they made their way inside to the admit desk.

“We’re looking for Dr. Mary Margaret Nolan,” Killian informed the nurse at the desk. He didn’t notice Henry’s wide eyed stare as he spoke.

“She’s with a patient right now, sir. May I ask what this is in regards to?” the red haired nurse questioned him.

“She’s my friend’s wife and-”

“And she’s my aunt,” Henry exclaimed. Killian turned stunned eyes on the boy. The nurse turned her attention to him as well.

“Really?” he questioned.

“Yeah! I told you my aunt worked here in the ER,” he laughed as he realized how low the chances of this happening really were. Killian and the nurse joined in as well.

“Hi, Henry! Who’s this? And what do you need M’s for?” the nurse asked.

“Hi, Ariel!” Henry waved from where he stood. “This is Killian. He led our tour of the La Brea tar pits today. Roland, my buddy here, fell into a display case during the earthquake and Killian thinks the cut needs stitches. Did I say all that right, Killian?” His brown eyes turned upward, brimming with hope that he hadn’t left out anything important.

“Aye, lad. You sure did.” He turned back to the nurse. “Can we see Mary Margaret about those stitches? Or at least let her have a look at him?” he asked.

“Oh sure,” she replied. “Come on through here, and I’ll send her in as soon as she’s done with her patient.”

Just at that moment, a petite black haired woman came out of a door further down, making notations on her iPad.

“Oh, there she is now,” Ariel said to the man and boys behind her.

“Aunt M’s!” Henry shouted, startling the poor woman into nearly dropping the iPad. Henry took off down the corridor toward his aunt as she looked up and saw him running towards her.

“Henry! What are you doing here? And Killian, too,” she exclaimed as she saw them all making their way down the hall.

“A little accident during the earthquake, Mary Margaret,” Killian said amusedly as Henry tackled her, forcing an “oof” out of his target.

“Yeah, we had our buddy field trip to the tar pits today, Aunt M’s,” Henry enthused. “It was so cool, and Killian was our...” he trailed off, looking back at the man he was with.

“Docent, lad,” Killian filled in for him with an indulgent smile.

“Docent. Right. I won’t forget again, Killian.” Henry looked a little sheepish.

“I’m sure you won’t.” Killian chuckled along with Mary Margaret as she showed them into an empty room. “Roland here fell into a display case during the earthquake and sustained quite a nasty cut on his forehead that looked like it might need stitches,” he continued.

“Well, let’s have a looksee, shall we?” she asked, smiling down at the little boy, as she lifted him to the table. Directing her next words to Henry, she inquired, “Did you call your mom? Does she know you’re here?”

“Oh!” he exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “No, I haven’t.”

“Don’t worry about it, Henry. I’ll take care of it,” Killian assured him, “I was supposed to be heading to your mum’s office right now anyway. I’ll let her know what happened, and we’ll go from there.” Killian sent a reassuring smile his way.

“Okay, Killian. Thanks,” Henry replied. Killian slipped out and pulled out his phone dialing Emma’s number.

“Hello?” Emma’s beautiful voice came over the line, causing Killian’s breath to catch just the tiniest bit before he answered her back.

“Emma, it’s Killian Jones. We’ve had a bit of an accident during the earthquake,” he reported, trying to keep his voice as level as possible to keep her alarm to a minimum.

“What?!” she exclaimed. “Is Henry okay?”

“Henry is fine,” he assured the frightened woman. “It was Roland. He fell into a display case, causing a nasty cut to his forehead. We’re all at Cedars Sinai with Roland being seen by none other than your sister-in-law, Mary Margaret Nolan. Who is also my friend’s wife. And, who I gather, must be your brother.” Killian had remembered Emma telling Henry at lunch to call his Uncle David when he got home. When Henry’s relations had come to light, Killian had put two and two together to figure out exactly who belonged to who. Emma laughed delightedly.

“Oh my word! Who would have guessed? That’s hysterical!” Emma declared, trying to bring her laughter under control. Her laugh was infectious and Killian found himself joining in.

“It is. What are the odds, eh?” Killian said, sending her off into more laughter, as he chuckled. “Anyway, what do you want me to do with the boys? I still need to get down there to see what Graham and Ruby have discovered.” Just the mention of the reason behind their meeting and this phone call was enough to bring an end to their mutual mirth.

“Have David pick them up at the hospital and take them home. You or Henry can call him. I know he had meetings about the apartments today, but he should be done with them by now. Then you head down here,” Emma replied. “Ruby and Graham have a very interesting theory that I’m not sure what to think about, but would love your input on.” Killian could almost see the blonde shrug her shoulders through the phone line.

“Okay, love. Mary Margaret is probably about done. I’ll leave here as soon as she is and David gets here. I’ll text when I’m on my way.” Killian hung up and walked back into the room where Henry, Roland, and Mary Margaret were. Henry and Roland sounded like a tag team as they peppered the woman with stories about their day as she finished stitching Roland up. “Henry, I’m going to call your Uncle David to come pick you boys up and take you home. Then I’m going to go meet your mum and we’re going to figure out what’s going on and take care of it, aye?” Killian asked nodding at the boy.

“Sure, Killian. Thanks a lot, for everything,” the boy replied.

“Yeah, thanks Killian,” echoed Roland.

Turning to the boys, Mary Margaret told them, “Stay here. I’m going to go talk to Killian. Uncle David will be here in just a few minutes. He was just across the street at the apartments he’s been working on.” She followed him out into the hallway, forehead furrowed in concern. “What’s this about meeting Emma? What’s going on, Killian? Thank you, by the way though, for taking care of the boys through all this.”

“Oh, of course, M’s,” he answered, putting special emphasis on the syllable while raising his eyebrows at her and grinning.

“Oh, pfft,” she said waving him off, and looking away with a light blush coloring her cheeks. “Mary Margaret was too much for Henry to say when he was a toddler. So we shortened it to M’s and it stuck. Only for family and close friends though,” she said, side-eyeing him closely. “Ehh… I guess you count.” She smirked at him before reiterating her question.

“I’ll have to fill you in on the details later M’s.” Killian’s face fell. “Suffice it to say two men are dead, and Emma was nearly killed today too because of some seismic activity underneath the tar pits.”

The tender-hearted woman gasped, her hand covering her mouth and eyes filling with tears. “Oh, no!”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Killian replied. “So, I need to get down to her office to see what’s going on, and what we can do about it.”

“Of course,” Mary Margaret agreed. “You go ahead and go. I’ll take charge of the boys until David gets here. Tell Emma to keep us updated. I’m off in another hour, so I’ll probably go home with them.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he answered winking at her. “Do you want to call David or do you want me to?”

“I’ll call him. I need to let him know what’s going on anyway.” She pulled out her phone and started dialing. “Thank you, though. Really. It means a lot.” She made sure he was looking at her face so he could see how much she meant the words she was saying.

Killian looked at her, but had to look away from the tenderness and conviction behind her words. “Of course. They really are remarkable lads. They remind me very much of myself and Liam when we were young. I couldn’t do anything different. I’ll see you later.” Before he turned and walked away toward the entrance, he heard David pick up over Mary Margaret’s phone.

“Hey babe! What’s up?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killian made his way into the Control Center of the Office of Emergency Management amid all the chaos that the day’s events engendered. Spying the long blonde hair that he desperately wanted to run his fingers through, he made his way over to where she, Graham, and the woman he assumed was Ruby Lucas were huddled over a computer monitor and a paper city map of the area around the tar pits. “What have we got?” he asked.

Emma turned startled eyes upon him, “Uh… oh! You’re here. Ruby,” she said, motioning to the tall brunette, “Dr. Killian Jones. Killian, Ruby Lucas, my assistant and right hand.”

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Jones.” Ruby grinned at him with a wolfish smile as she held out her hand toward him.

“Please, call me Killian. No one calls me Dr. Jones except members of the media,” Killian chuckled as he shook her hand.

“And me, if he’s being especially obnoxious,” Graham interjected, grinning at him, before it melted into more of a shy, sincere smile as he turned his eyes upon Ruby.

“And Graham, if I’m being especially obnoxious,” Killian repeated with humor dancing in his eyes. “So, what have you found out?”

“Okay,” Ruby began, “the last earthquake was a 4.9. That’s up significantly from the earthquakes this morning. Including the one that killed those workers. We may be building up to a catastrophic tremor.”

“Or,” Graham prompted, with a grim expression.

Emma looked at Killian with an expression that had him bracing himself. It was pensive and incredulous all at once. As if she had trouble believing what was about to be said herself, much less saying it out loud as a viable possibility. “What?” Killian asked, “Just tell me.”

Emma started rather haltingly, “The second earthquake this morning opened a fissure in the subway tunnel. Incredibly hot gas and something else, something… liquid… kinda, was coming up out of it by the time Ruby and I got there. After the workers were killed.” She cast dubious eyes toward Graham before continuing. “The temperature reading of the lake in MacArthur Park and underneath the tar pits has increased significantly in the last twelve hours. The lake 6°, the tar pits 10°. Graham says the only thing capable of producing the kind of heat that we saw under MacArthur Park and that could heat that much liquid by that amount in that short a time is…” she trailed off.

Killian and Graham’s eyes met over the ladies. “Magma,” they said together. “Magma would explain the extreme heat you both felt this morning,” Killian continued, “capable of killing two men with no protective gear, and raising the temperatures of the lake and tar pits to that extent that quickly.” He shook his head. “Damn. Have we got our work cut out for us,” he murmured, looking around the room.

“Can’t it be something else?” Emma asked, placing her hand on his arm. Killian tried to ignore the shiver her touch generated across his skin. “Anything else? Do we really need to declare a state of emergency and evacuate that entire sector? That’s a massive undertaking,” she exclaimed.

“The first thing we need to do is confirm. Get a first hand look at what is going on down there. From there, we make the call to evacuate or not and mobilize city resources,” Killian stated.

“You can’t go down there Killian.” The fear in her eyes was palpable. “Ruby and I have already been down there. We nearly died down there. We saw and felt it. I know magma makes the most sense given the facts, but…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “It’s… it’s MAGMA! As in, a VOLCANO! UNDER Los Angeles! It CAN’T be!”

“When the facts all point to a certain thing, even if that certain thing should be impossible, we have to go with the impossible,” Killian asserted. He shook his head. “We have to follow the facts. We can’t try to make the facts fit our preconceived notions.”

“But-”

“No, Emma. There is no ‘but’. This is the conclusion that the facts are leading us to. This is what we have to go with. There is no other possibility. Graham and I will go down to confirm what we’re seeing here. We’ll be in constant contact by radio. Our equipment is more suited to handle the kind of temperatures we may find down there. We’ll be fine,” he said, grasping her arms and looking into her eyes. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s surviving, love. We won’t do anything stupid.”

Emma snorted before looking up into his piercing blue gaze. “You know, the argument could be made that what you’re suggesting is stupid,” she said with a frown and a determined set to her shoulders. “But I’m not letting you go down there by yourself.”

“I won’t be by myself. Graham will be with me,” Killian replied.

“No, Graham needs to stay here to analyze the data in real time,” Emma argued, “Ruby can mobilize the city resources under my authority. But Graham is gonna be the one to pull the trigger on whether we need to or not.” Her flashing eyes and stubborn stance told Killian that he was likely to lose this battle, but he put up a fight anyway. He didn’t want her anywhere near what might be happening.

“It’s too dangerous, love. If Graham is right, I don’t want to put you in harm’s way.” He poured the concern he felt for her into his eyes, hoping that she would read it. He saw a flash of hesitation in hers before the stubbornness he had already witnessed settled back in place. “You said yourself that you saw and felt what was down there already-”

“And you said that your equipment is better suited for the temperatures you might find down there,” Emma retorted, “The thermal gun said 748° when we turned back.”

“Our equipment is rated up to 1000°.” Killian tried again.

“Well then, there you go.” Emma crossed her arms, her smug attitude telling him he had lost. “Graham has to stay here and you’re not going by yourself. I have training. I am the best choice.”

“Fine,” Killian acquiesced, after a long moment, his lips pressed in a thin line, ���but you listen up and listen good,” he said, getting in her personal space and pointing his finger at her, “I am the boss down there. Not you. You do exactly as I say, when I say it.” While he felt successful in keeping the fear from tingeing his words, he was afraid that he was unable to keep it out of his eyes. She must have noticed because she tried to inject some levity into the situation.

“Aye aye, sir,” she said, with a smart salute and smirk. Killian rolled his eyes as he tried not to smile and turned back toward Graham and Ruby.

Just at that moment, the ground started to shake again. Killian and Graham grabbed the ladies as they all tried to cover their heads and dive under the desks. Emma clutched at Killian as he drew her into his embrace and tried to cover her with his body. Once the shaking stopped, they all came out from their cover and made their way quickly to where the readings for the earthquake were already coming up. “4.6,” Killian said, turning toward the others. “Not as bad as the one a little while ago, but significant all the same.” Emma and Ruby exchanged worried glances before looking back at Killian. “This changes nothing,” Killian asserted, “We still have to go underground and confirm what is happening. We’ll drop off more sensors at the tar pits on our way to MacArthur Park, then head underground where you found the fissure this morning. Graham’s computer will be connected remotely with my suit and equipment.”

“Right,” Ruby replied, looking at the man next to her with a tentative, but genuine smile. “And we’ll still be able to communicate?” she asked, turning back toward Killian.

“Yes,” he answered. “We have radios in the suit that will allow us to talk back and forth through the computer. Everything from the suit will show up right here in real time. Ready, Swan?” he asked.

“Ready,” she answered, nodding.

“Alright, let’s suit up.”

End of part 1

[overlordofthelollipopguild]

Life Just Got Complicated - Chapter 4

Here’s the next chapter that I’ve been working on all week. It’s super long so I hope you guys enjoy it. There’s hopefully some slow burn CS and there’s lots of cute Red Beauty. 

I do have one note though and that it’s that I’m absolutely not trying to villainize Milah. Every mention of her so far are from people who were Team Killian or hurt by her (i.e. Killian) so these are very biased POVs (Liam especially in Killian's memories as he's overprotective big brother) so Milah has no defense, because Killian, Ruby, and Liam amongst literally everyone else, don't know the whole story. I hope to reveal the truth eventually. But Milah is definitely not the villain of this story.

Anyway, here are the links on the other sites (please leave reviews/comments if you read there):

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12482512/4/Life-Just-Got-Complicated

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14260986/chapters/33598680

Chapter 4: Connections

Emma found herself in the kitchen observing Killian as she sipped her coffee. It had been just over a week since he had moved in and so far things were comfortable. She honestly wasn’t sure how to feel about that. On one side of it, the night she had returned from the stakeout had somewhat broken the ice between them, and they fell into a sort of routine. Killian woke up early and started breakfast, Emma joined him, they would make small talk, then Emma would go off to work and Killian would work to meet his deadlines, then she’d come home and they alternated between Emma bringing home takeout and Killian cooking, as well as alternating dishes.

But then there was the other side. The one that had them dancing around each other as though they were on the edge of something that wasn’t quite tangible. They were careful of each other, but not sure why. Every time he came near her, she tensed as though anticipating more than just longing looks.

Often enough, she caught him looking at her with these lingering gazes that she didn’t want to read into, but she also found herself watching him too. Her thoughts would drift off, thinking only of him and nothing else seemed much to matter. Was it just physical attraction? He was very attractive, and there was definitely a mutual attraction there. There certainly was a leftover spark from their one night together.

Even now, she felt herself flushing a bit, remembering Killian hovering over her, his blue eyes glowing with intensity. Shaking herself, she returned her eyes to the man in front of her, who was furiously typing away at his laptop.

In spite of his gazes, Killian respected her personal space. He often kept a distance between them which Emma greatly appreciated. She didn’t trust herself whenever he was close. He kept to himself and he didn’t push her; he didn’t ask questions about her past or ask for personal information unless it was necessary. All in all, he was the perfect roommate for her.

There was just another problem to add to her list though.

Not only did he invade her waking thoughts, but she kept dreaming about him. That was perhaps the most infuriating thing. Wet dreams of him she could understand; again there was the physical attraction and she knew just how skilled he was in bed. But there were other dreams that unsettled her. Dreams that were more…domestic in nature, and she wasn’t sure if that was because he was her roommate or if it was something else.

No, it can’t be anything else. She told herself. It’s just his proximity, and seeing him every day.

“Swan?” Killian’s voice cut through her thoughts. He was looking at her with some concern, his brow adorably furrowed.

He’s not adorable. Emma chided herself. “Yeah?”

“You looked upset.” Killian said. He even sounded genuinely concerned. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I was just lost in thought.” Emma said, trying not to feel affection for him. His concern warmed her in ways that she didn’t want to analyze any further. To distract herself from her thoughts, she started up a conversation. “How’s the writing going?”

“It’s good today.” Killian said. He stretched his arms a bit, unintentionally teasing her eyes with a bit of skin where his shirt rose. “Some days are easier than others.”

“Writer’s block, right?” Emma asked, trying hard to keep her eyes on his face.

“It can be a pain.” Killian chuckled. He ran a hand through his hair. “Today is Gal Pal Saturday, right?”

Emma nodded. “Yeah.” Gal Pal Saturday: the one day every month that Ruby designated for the three of them to hang out and just be girls. It was one of the times that Emma actually didn’t feel like the third wheel with Ruby and Belle. “Are you going to be working all day?”

“Not all day.” Killian told her, setting his laptop on the coffee table. “I was just going to finish this up, then go out.”

A flare of unexpected jealousy rose up in Emma as an image of Killian out with someone who wasn’t her. Don’t be ridiculous. He’s not your territory. “Oh, are you going to meet someone?”

Killian tilted his head, his eyes curious. “No. I don’t exactly have other friends.” He shrugged. “I prefer to be alone.”

That sounds familiar. Emma swallowed, panicking a bit at feeling connected to Killian. “Yeah, I get that.”

The understanding look in his eyes made her want to run.

Crap. Emma cursed at revealing too much of herself with so few words.

“I should go.” She finished the last of her coffee and headed to the door grabbing her keys and red leather jacket. She had to get out of there before she said something else. Revealing anything more to him was dangerous territory. As she shrugged on her jacket, she glanced at him, finding his brows furrowed as he looked at her.

Killian gave her a small smile, that seemed a bit forced, before turning his attention back to his work. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, later.” She nodded, grabbing her purse too.

“Have fun.” He replied sincerely.

Her stomach fluttered as his eyes met hers. “Yeah, as long as Ruby doesn’t get too crazy.” She heard him chuckle in response before she left the apartment.

The elevator ride down felt like forever as her thoughts whirled around. It was probably a good thing for her to get out of the apartment and away from Killian. Maybe some space would give her clarity, and keep her from opening up her heart.

“Should you really be saying that about your boss?” Belle asked as she looked through some blouses to pair with the navy skirt she found.

They were at a clothing boutique that was thankfully in their price range, and still had clothes that looked tasteful and expensive. Luckily there was a variety too, and not just what was trendy.

Ruby shrugged. “I’m not at work, so I think I can bitch about my boss as long as no one from work is around.” Ruby glanced around the store. “And look, no one I know is here.”

Emma snorted. Leave it to Ruby to bad mouth someone and then check to be sure no one else heard.

“Sure, laugh.” Ruby playfully scoffed. “You have a great boss.”

Emma shrugged. “Cleo can be tough.”

“Lies.” Ruby said. “All lies. Oooh, Belle, this would look so cute on you.” She pulled a navy dress with red polka dots and a matching red belt and handed it to Belle.

Belle looked at it with approval, adding it to the pile of clothes she carried.

“What about you, Emma?” Belle asked, looking over at the blonde. “Need a new dress for work?”

“I always need a new dress for work.” Emma said as she looked through the racks, wondering if she should stray from her usual colors of red and black. A pink dress caught her eye and she wondered what Killian would say to it, before quickly banishing the thought. “For some reason men think that throwing a drink at me is a good enough distraction for them to make a run for it. I take them to the cleaners, but sometimes even they can’t get the stains out.”

Ruby scoffed. “Forget getting something to wear to work. Get something for a hot date. A dress that makes a guy’s jaw drop.”

“Most of my work consists of me going on “hot dates,” as you know.” Emma picked a black number from the rack, scrutinizing it before replacing it. “Besides, I don’t date.”

“Yes, that’s pretty much your motto.” Ruby huffed looking at her. “You know Emma, those walls of yours aren’t doing you any favors.”

“Ruby.” Belle spoke in gentle warning. This wasn’t the time or place to get into an argument over Emma’s lack of a love life.

Emma wasn’t bothered by it too much. She and Ruby had had this argument before. Then again, Ruby didn’t know the whole story. Oh, Ruby knew more about Emma’s past than anyone else had ever known, but Neal and the baby she gave up were things that Emma still hid. Things that she couldn’t talk about with anyone. Emma forced the memories away, instead focusing intently on the clothes in front of her.

“Look, I just bring it up all the time, because I think that you really could find someone who could make you really happy.” Ruby said, her tone both pleading and sincere. “Like how Belle makes me feel.”

Belle smiled at the sentiment, clearly agreeing with her girlfriend.

“I’m not saying that a woman needs to have a relationship.” Ruby continued. “There are many single women out there who are perfectly happy and that’s fantastic. But Emma, you aren’t one of them. You’ve had a life that’s starved you of love and affection. You need someone in your life to lean on. Someone who you could be completely intimate with on every level. Physical and emotional. You know?”

While Ruby’s words rang true, it was uncomfortable to hear. Even worse, when Ruby spoke about intimacy, Emma pictured Killian in her mind and how comfortable it was to live with him, and how he comforted her after her nightmare on their night together. It shook her that she thought of Killian in that moment.

Hurriedly, Emma grabbed a few random dresses. “I’m going to go try these on.” She walked away from her friends and found an empty dressing room. Hanging her dresses, she sat down taking deep calming breaths to curtail her panic, hoping that tears wouldn’t follow.

Why did it always come back to Killian? Was she crazy? He was her roommate. They had sex one night before they ever knew each other. But they knew each other now and nothing good would happen if they became more than that. They could not, absolutely could not, become a couple. It would only end badly, because of her. She wasn’t meant to be loved, and that’s how it was meant to be.

More than that, Emma needed to keep her distance from him. They couldn’t be roommates forever, and she doubted that she could handle it if he abandoned her too.

They watched Emma flee to the dressing rooms.

At first, Ruby was tempted to follow her, but then she thought better of it, knowing that Emma would feel better after a moment to herself.

“You pushed her.” Belle sighed, giving her girlfriend a chiding look.

“Sometimes she needs a push.” Ruby said, paying more attention to the clothes than Belle’s disapproval. “What do you think of this number?” Ruby pulled out a red dress and held it against her. “It’s a good date night dress, right?”

“Yes, and you’ll look gorgeous.” Belle said. “Now, stop trying to change the subject.”

That only earned a huff from Ruby. “Emma will be fine.” Ruby told her. “She just needs a breather.”

“Because you pushed.” Belle reiterated.

Ruby shrugged. “Like I said, she needs one.” Ruby turned to face Belle. “She isn’t happy being our third wheel, and setting her up with Killian failed. Emma deserves to be happy, and I think she’s been alone so long that she is just used to being unhappy. That’s not fair to her. Someone needs to climb those walls and treat her the way she deserves.”

“I agree with you completely.” Belle said. “But don’t you think you need a more subtle approach?”

“I’m having déjà vu.” Ruby and Belle had had this conversation many times before. Then again, if Ruby wasn’t always pushing Emma then there wouldn’t be a need for this conversation to begin with; alas, Ruby dug her own whole.

Belle sighed again. “Maybe Emma will meet someone on her own?” It was a worthy suggestion. Emma was young, single, and lived in a big city. She did go out on her own or with them from time to time. Eventually, she would have to meet someone who caught her eye.

“She never even tries to meet someone.” Ruby countered. “Unless it’s for one night stands, and believe me, if Emma had a one night stand and met that guy again, she’d run. That’s why I push. She just needs to know that dating isn’t the end of the world. That there are good guys out there. Like Killian.” Ruby sighed wistfully. “If only she’d date Killian.”

Belle shook her head, trying not to be amused by her girlfriend’s antics. “Her heart might not be ready.” Belle said. “There’s a reason she’s never told us about her past relationships.”

“Maybe so.” Ruby took another dress off of the rack. “But she can’t let some douchebag ex or exes hold that kind of power over her.” Her arms full, Ruby turned to face Belle. “Let’s go check on her and try these on.”

“Just promise me that you won’t push her again today?” Bella requested as they headed to the back of the store.

“Fine.” Ruby said. “But only for the rest of the day.”

Belle chuckled. “That’s all I ask.”

Killian walked along the harbor, breathing in the salty air. Being near water always calmed him whenever he was in turmoil, or helped him whenever he just needed a quiet place to sit and think. He had a lot of thinking to do as of late.

After Emma returned home from her stakeout, something between them shifted, but he couldn’t help but feel off kilter about it.

It was as if they were both anticipating something, yet holding themselves back.

Was it sexual tension? They were both clearly very attracted to each other. He had even caught Emma checking him out a few times, but he never called her on it. It was obvious that she needed her space, and Killian didn’t want to push her if that only made her uncomfortable.

Or was it something else? Was the connection they made on that first night still there and just thrumming under the surface?

He knew that he wanted there to be a connection, but he feared it too. Emma was the first person that he had met since Milah that made him want more than just a one night stand. He felt something with her that he hadn’t felt since Milah.

Milah.

God, he thought about her so many times over the past five years. He had known that getting involved with her probably wasn’t a good idea, but the allure of a loving relationship was just too much.

Honestly, Killian had never meant for anything to start.

Unfortunately, Killian was much younger and a fool, blinded by her passionate personality and his own physical attraction. Perhaps he was seeking something in Milah that he needed, but she couldn’t give.  

It had all ended in pain and tears, just as Liam predicted it would.

I told you this would happen, Liam had said. She was just using you until her husband beguiled her with his money. She was never going to be with you the way you wanted.

Killian closed his eyes as shame and guilt rose and twisted inside of him.

After the fallout, he couldn’t remain in town; he couldn’t face any of them anymore. It was unbearable, and he couldn’t breathe easy any longer.

Five years later, he hadn’t talked to anyone except Ruby, who had been one of the few that sided with him completely on the Milah debacle.

So yeah, he definitely wasn’t ready for that.

But was he ready to open his heart again? Milah had crushed it, but Emma made it feel something again.

Their night together had been passionate and intense, and ever since he moved in, he learned little things about Emma that only endeared her to him. Their shared love of grilled cheese for one. Then there was the way that she would bob her head and move a little with music whenever she was in a really good mood. The very specific way her hot chocolate had to be made: milk in a pot on the stove, bring to a boil, stir in the Swiss Miss hot chocolate and cinnamon, then pour it in a mug and put some Reddi Wip on top, then sprinkle more cinnamon on top. He only knew because he offered to make it once and she showed him all of the steps, because apparently making hot chocolate was serious business.

There were other things too; how her nose scrunched up when she didn’t like something, how her brow furrowed when she was worried, how her head tilted when she was concentrating or curious about something, and the way that when she was trying not to laugh she couldn’t quite hide a smile or when she did laugh her teeth showed as the musical sound left her.

He was utterly smitten by her. He shouldn’t be since they were supposed to just be roommates, and Emma wanted nothing more than that. Killian had to respect her wishes, but it was hard to be around her and not have his stomach dancing or his eyes being entranced by her every move.  

How did he always fall for women that weren’t interested?

Leaning against the safety rails, Killian looked out at the harbor, the wind whipping at his hair.

What was he going to do?

Emma finished putting away her new clothes and shoes when she heard the door open.

“Swan, you home?” Killian’s voice rang out through the apartment.

“Bedroom!” She called out, collecting the now empty shopping bags.

Killian appeared in the open doorway, casually leaning against the frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

Emma averted her eyes. Why did he have to look so damn attractive? He clearly had been out and about too as his hair was a tousled mess. “Where did you go off to?”

“Just down by the harbor.” Killian told her. “I like the water. Helps me think.”

That surprised her, but she tried not to let it show. The water usually helped her think too. Every place she had lived, she had always found a beach or a lake or a river to be her thinking spot. Since living in Boston, the harbor was the best thinking spot around. “That’s nice. Writer’s block?”

“No.” Killian looked nervous, and his arms tightened.

Emma figured he was trying not to scratch his ear. It was a cute little nervous tic. Everything he did was cute. The way his eyebrows were so expressive for one. Like when he was joking, they would waggle or when he was surprised they would both rise up. Then there was how he tilted his head a bit when he was confused. How his tongue would poke out when he was in his writing zone and focused. How he remembered little things like how she liked her coffee, that grilled cheese was her favorite, how she preferred cherry pop tarts above the others. Cute little things that made her heart ache and sent her stomach in a flutter.

Pushing aside her thoughts, Emma focused on the man before her. “What’s for dinner tonight?”

“I was thinking pizza, beer, and a movie.” Killian said.

“Cool.” Emma agreed. “There’s a good pizza place a couple of blocks over. They know my usual. What would you like?”

“Pepperoni is fine.” Killian said. “You want to pick the movie?”

“Surprise me.” Emma said, already picking up her cell phone and dialing the pizza place.

Thirty minutes later the pizza arrived and The Princess Bride began to play on the screen.

“So, The Princess Bride?” Emma arched a brow, though she couldn’t fight the smile that broke out on her face. It was, after all, her all time favorite movie.

The man beside her reddened. “Uh, yeah. I’m a bit of a romantic at heart.”

“That’s not a bad thing.” Emma reassured. In fact, it was just one more endearing quality to add to the growing list of endearing things about Killian Jones.

Killian smiled at her before turning his focus to the movie. “You have to give Westley some props for dedication to her.”

“You think so?” Emma asked.

“Clearly he was in love with her before she was in love with him.” Killian said. “Even when it was clear that she had feelings for him but didn’t realize it, he stuck around.”

“It’s sweet.” Emma agreed as they came to the scene where Westley was telling Buttercup goodbye. As Westley allayed Buttercup’s fears and spoke of True Love, Emma frowned. This was certainly the movie that made her believe in such love, but that was years ago, when she was young and innocent. After Neal, she knew that True Love was never in the cards for her.

So lost in her own thoughts, Emma didn’t notice Killian looking at her at Westley’s line about True Love.

Emma felt for Buttercup when she found out that Westley had died. Love only caused pain after all, so why should she love again? Emma shook her head, and tried to focus on the movie.

“Ugh, Vizzini.” Killian scoffed, earning a snort from Emma. “He was very annoying.”

“At least he gets killed off.” Emma said. “I always felt bad for poor Fezzik. He’s not as stupid as everyone seems to think.”

Killian nodded in agreement, unable to speak since he was biting into his pizza.

Emma glanced at him just in time to see his tongue dart out to lick some stray sauce from his lips. Her eyes darted back to the screen as she took a sip of her beer.

As the movie continued, Emma and Killian laughed and tensed at all the right parts, throwing in their own commentary here and there.

Emma honestly had never had as much fun watching a movie before. Even with Ruby and Belle, watching movies wasn’t as fun, mostly due to third wheel awkwardness. But this, with Killian here, it was relaxing and Emma was enjoying his little comments to every other scene.

Unbeknownst to her, Killian too was having a good time. Even with Belle and Ruby being in his life, he often kept to himself and was resistant to hanging out. Sitting here with Emma, both of them enjoying one of his top five movies, it was nice. It had been too long since he just hung out with someone and genuinely enjoyed their company without worry of not being sociable enough.

Perhaps they were becoming friends after all.

As the movie, and their commentary, continued, Emma’s face hurt from smiling so much. For the first time, bonding with someone didn’t seem so scary, and that usual panic, that so often reared up in moments like this, was absent. For once, Emma wasn’t running.

Ruby was on her lunch break, playing with some designs for her portfolio, when her cell phone buzzed. Seeing the name on the screen, Ruby winced.

Mary Margaret had been her best friend through childhood up to college, but these past few weeks, blissful in her new relationship status and busy at work, Ruby hadn’t called Mary Margaret as often as she usually did.

“Hey Mare.” Ruby greeted. “How’s it going?”

“Really good actually.” Mary Margaret said.

Ruby knew Mary Margaret so well that she could practically feel the excitement on the other line. “Oh, is that charming husband of yours living up to his nickname?”

Mary Margaret laughed. “You know he always does. He also hates that nickname.”

“Blame Killian for that one.” Ruby said without thinking. She stiffened when she realized what she said. Mary Margaret and David had both taken Killian’s leaving and lack of contact hard.

“We miss him.” Mary Margaret sighed.

“I know.” Ruby said. “I’ve tried to get him to call, but he’s very stubborn.”

“We are very aware.” Mary Margaret chuckled. “Speaking of Killian, since he won’t call, could you tell him my news?”

“Is that why you called?” Ruby’s tone was light. “Making me your messenger pigeon?”

“Well I was calling you to tell you.” Mary Margaret said. “Telling Killian is just a bonus.”

Ruby let out a playful scoff. “So, what’s your news girl?”

There was a beat before Mary Margaret screeched. “I’m pregnant!”

“Oh my God!” Ruby squealed. “That’s great!”

David and Mary Margaret had been married practically as soon as they got out of high school, but they had been putting off having kids until they were ready.

“Isn’t it?” Mary Margaret said. “Ruth is very excited of course. Probably more than me and David.”

Ruby chuckled. “She and Granny are probably going to raid the craft store now. They’ll buyout all the yarn for that kid of yours.”

“Probably.” Mary Margaret said. “David and I will be up to our necks in booties and baby blankets.”

“So true.” Ruby’s smile was starting to hurt. “Congratulations, really. You and David are going to  be amazing parents.”

“We’re just so excited.” Mary Margaret let out a bubbly laugh. “Neither of us can stop smiling. Anyway, just pass the news on to Killian. We’d love it if he could come visit. You and Belle too.”

Mary Margaret had been pushing for Ruby to bring Belle back to Storybrooke for a while now, but neither Ruby nor Belle’s schedules had been open enough.

“Whenever your first baby shower is, Belle and I will be there.” Ruby promised. “I can’t promise anything with Killian though.”

“As long as you try, that’ll be enough.” It was a lie, but Mary Margaret knew better than to expect anything with Killian.

“Who knows, maybe he will come back?” Ruby said. “It’s your and David’s kid after all.”

“Maybe, but then again that might be too hard for him.” Mary Margaret said. “Is he still…has he moved on?”

“Not really.” Ruby sighed. “I have a friend who’s perfect for him, but their both stubborn. But who knows, maybe he’ll find someone.”

“Who’s your friend?”

“Emma Swan.” Ruby said. “But so far it’s a no go between them.”

“At least you tried.” Mary Margaret said. “Oh, Ruth’s calling. Tell Killian we love him and miss him, and that we hope to see him soon.”

“I will.” Ruby said.

Mary Margaret hung up.

Ruby was truly happy for her friends, but she really hoped that Killian didn’t take the news too hard.

Belle entered Emma and Killian’s apartment with her key, looking for Killian. She needed him to read over some drafts and edit them before she submitted them to her professors. “Killian, you here?”

“Nope.” Emma said, coming out of the bathroom. “He had a meeting, but I guess it’s running late. I just got home.”

“Okay.” Belle said. “Do you mind if I wait? I’d email him these drafts, but I prefer to talk in person after he edits. It’s easier to make notes and figure things out.”

“Yeah, sure.” Emma smiled. “I was just about to order some dinner and watch some t.v.”

Belle settled in on the couch with her papers and laptop.

“I think I’ll get Indian tonight.” Emma told her. “Do you know what Killian likes?”

“Anything with lamb.” Belle said. “Ooh, if you’re ordering from that place over by the bookstore, he loves their lamb coconut curry.”

“What about you?” Emma asked.

“Oh don’t worry about me.” Belle waved her off, not wanting to impose.

“Belle, you’re eating.” Emma told her, giving her a look. “Besides, I have a feeling that these editing sessions run long.”

Belle knew that she had a point, and these editing sessions did in fact last some hours long. “Chicken Korma.”

As Emma called in the order, Belle thought over how Emma had been on Saturday. After some time to herself, Emma had returned, composed, but for the rest of the afternoon, Emma had been lost in her thoughts. It had only made Belle curious, especially when Emma had tensed every time that Killian was mentioned in conversation.

When Emma hung up after placing the order, Belle saw her chance to sate her curiosity. “Hey, Emma?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you and Killian getting on all right?” Belle asked. She knew that Killian was a great roommate and a perfect gentleman, but there was something working in her brain; she could feel that there was more to know regarding her two friends.

“Yeah, we’ve been good.” Emma said with a kind smile. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.” Belle said. “He’s a good roommate.”

Emma’s expression turned soft. “He is.”

Belle noted Emma’s soft look with keen interest. “So you guys broke the ice?”

“We did.” Emma said, joining Belle on the couch. “He’s been great, really.” Emma smiled as she remembered their movie night and how Killian insisted that it should become a tradition. She had never had traditions before until Belle and Ruby, but it felt different having a tradition with Killian. There was more to it that she wasn’t quite sure of, but some small part of her wanted to find out.

Belle couldn’t help but wonder about Emma’s demeanor. She had never seen Emma so comfortable before and they were just talking about Killian. Wait? Could it be that she..? Could they…

An idea sparked in Belle’s mind, one that could prove her already working theory about Emma and Killian’s relationship. Or at least, she hoped that it would prove her right. “That’s good.” Belle said. “Ruby still thinks that you and Killian are a good match.” Careful now, Belle. You’re entering dangerous territory.

“Belle.” Emma sighed, her face dropping as her shoulders slumped. “I already told Ruby that’s not going to happen.” It couldn’t happen; not with him. Emma couldn’t risk it.

“I know.” Belle reassured. “But I do think that Ruby has a point. You deserve to be happy, and you need to give dating a chance.” Belle took Emma’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “There are good guys out there.”

Emma suddenly found the coffee table very interesting. She knew that Ruby and Belle had good points, and she wasn’t happy being alone. Her head was just too scared to risk her heart. It was hard enough to let friends in, but to let someone in who could love her? Someone who could hold her heart? It was too dangerous.

“How about baby steps?” Belle offered, hoping to find a compromise that Emma would be comfortable with. “There’s a grad student I know. He’s a nice guy, so one date won’t hurt, right?” Okay, so the guy she was thinking of wasn’t nice, but setting Emma up was just a part of her plan, not meant to be a long term thing.

“I don’t know.” Emma hesitated. Though Belle did have a point. It would only be just one little date, right? Nice guy or not, it’s not like Emma was required to like the guy. She didn’t even have to see him again after the date.

“Just one date.” Belle said. “Friday night, and if it’s not working out, Ruby and I will bail you out.”

An image of Killian floated in Emma’s mind, but she quickly pushed it away. There couldn’t be anything between them. Belle was right.

It would only be one little date.

“So don’t freak out.” Belle said as Ruby came into the bedroom after finishing her nightly ritual.

“Freak out about what?” Ruby asked, climbing on the bed. “Did you increase your workload again? Or did another TA hit on you?” Ruby gasped mockingly. “Oh God, did you eat the last of my Valentine’s candy?” Though, eating her candy would be the one thing that Ruby wouldn’t be able to forgive.

Belle rolled her eyes, a smile gracing her face. “None of the above, and for the record, you ate all of your candy and the last of mine.” Luckily, Belle was much more forgiving than Ruby.

“You don’t even like the cream filled ones.” Ruby objected, careful not to mention that she ate Belle’s last coconut filled one. “I was doing you a favor.”

“A true favor would be giving me your coconut filled ones, you candy hog.” Belle huffed, though she was still smiling.

“So what am I about to freak out about?” Ruby asked. It must’ve been something good, because Belle had seemed a bit worried earlier.

Belle hesitated. “Okay, but it’s for everyone’s own good.”

“What is?” Now it really had to be good. It made Ruby all the more curious.

“I convinced Emma to go out on a date.” Belle winced, already preparing herself for Ruby’s reaction.

Ruby whipped her head towards Belle, her jaw agape. “You did what? How? What?”

Belle shrugged. “I just used your words against her but pushed her gently.”

“But, how?” Ruby clearly in shock couldn’t properly form coherency. “But, but, she…we are talking about Emma Swan, right? The Emma Swan?”

“Yes.” Belle said. “That’s not the point. The point is that she has a date on Friday.”

“With who?” Ruby asked, still trying to process the fact that Emma was willingly going out on a date. A real, actual date.

“Oh that Isaac guy.” Belle said with a shrug.

Ruby snorted. “The weird guy who’s full of himself? They won’t get past the appetizers.”

Belle hummed noncommittally. That was exactly her hope.

That caused Ruby to narrow her eyes. “Wait a second. Are you playing at something here, French?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Belle turned away to turn off the bedside lamp.

“You know that Isaac won’t have a chance with Emma.” Ruby stated. “You’re playing at something. The question is why?”

“Let that haunt your dreams.” Belle told her with a smirk. “Because I’m going to bed.”

“You can’t leave me hanging.” Ruby cuddled up to Belle. “Come on, babe. Please tell me?”

Belle turned around and faced her girlfriend. “I won’t. Goodnight.” She pecked Ruby’s lips, but before she could turn back around, Ruby pinned her to the mattress.

“Oh, I think I can get the answer out of you.” Ruby smirked playfully.

“You won’t.” Belle challenged even as she felt Ruby’s hands on her hips, sliding her nightgown up.

Ruby moved down the bed, slowly removing Belle’s panties. “Oh honey, you’re going to tell me everything.”

Killian returned home and heard the shower running. His heartbeat skipped at the thought of Emma naked and wet, but he quickly banished the images away. Emma wished to remain friends, and he had to respect that no matter how much he fantasized about her.

He really should stop fantasizing about her, but it was more difficult than he anticipated; she invaded every thought and every dream. Though he gave her some space, he needed that space too. Whenever Emma was around him, Killian felt as though he were losing himself in her, unable to help looking at her, longing to kiss her again, aching to hold her in his arms.

There you go again, Jones. Shaking away those thoughts, Killian focused on shrugging off his jacket and kicking off his shoes by the door.

It was Friday night, and he didn’t have any plans, nor did Emma as far as he was aware. Perhaps he could entice her to another movie night. They had had a lot of fun watching The Princess Bride, but the past week hadn’t allowed for their schedules to coincide. He either wrote late into the night to keep up with deadlines, or she’d have a stakeout or be in bed early too tired from the day. And he would ensure that a respectable distance was kept once again.

He put his laptop bag in his room, before heading to the bathroom to knock on the door and ask Emma what she wanted for dinner, when the bathroom door opened.

Both he and Emma froze after nearly running into each other, but what kept him speechless was that she was clad only in a short, terry-cloth robe.

Bloody hell. He swallowed, his eyes raking over her bare, freshly shaven legs.

“Killian.” She seemed surprised to see him despite the fact that he lived here. Crap, crap, crap. What is he doing here?

“Swan.” Killian moved his eyes to her face quickly, feeling his ears grow warm. “I just got home, and I was wondering what you’d like for dinner.”

Her brows furrowed as she frowned. Great, now I can’t avoid it. I have to tell him. “Yeah, about that.” She walked past him to her room, leaving Killian no choice but to follow. Not that I could hide it from him. He’d notice if I wasn’t home and came back without alcohol on my dress. Not to mention that she was pretty sure she had told Killian that she had tonight off from work, so he wouldn’t have bought it if she lied and said she had a skip. Or would he? Maybe she got called in?

Get real, Emma. She snapped at herself. He’s a grown man, and there’s nothing going on between the two of you. So what if you have a real date?

He stopped in her doorway, unwilling to enter her space uninvited, wondering why she seemed so on edge.

Emma stopped in front of her closet and started looking through her dresses. She wanted to put off telling him, but she was already close to running late. “I kind of have a date tonight.” She told him, unable to look at him as she said the words. It’s not a big deal. It’s just one date.

Killian tilted his head, confused and wondering why she’d be hesitant to tell him. “For work?” That was usually her go to with skips. Lure them out on a date and then slam them with the handcuffs. Though it didn’t make sense as to why Emma wouldn’t want to tell him. She was usually nonchalant about her skips.

Emma glanced at him. “No. A real date. Belle set it up.” Her eyes bore into him, watching carefully as his confusion turned to hurt.

His heart dropped into his stomach and Killian suddenly found it hard to breathe. A date? She has a date? But hadn’t she told him that she didn’t date? It was only ever one night stands?

Maybe she just told you that to get you off her back, a dark voice in the back of his mind spoke. Women don’t love you, you’re just a pretty face they can use.

Killian closed his eyes, trying to block out the darker side of his thoughts.

“Killian?”

He looked up at her, hearing the uncertainty in her voice.

She looked a little lost herself.

Killian forced a smile. “That’s good.” The knot in his stomach disagreed with him. “You should get back out there.” His entire body was tensing up, even as he tried to play it off. “You deserve to find someone worthy of you.”

That man certainly isn’t me.

Emma turned her attention back to her closet, trying to push the wounded look on his face out of her mind. There was no reason for him to feel hurt, right? They were just roommates.

“Red’s fetching on you.” Killian said quietly.

Emma turned to face him, but he already left, leaving her flushed.

She had been wearing a red blouse and red lingerie the night that they had met.

She pulled a simple black dress from the closet and unattractive beige bra and panties from her dresser. It’s not like anything was going to happen tonight anyway.

I have to go on this date. Emma told herself. If only to prove that there’s nothing between me and Killian.

Isaac Heller was perhaps the most boring, self-absorbed person that Emma had ever met. He couldn’t stop talking about himself and how he’d be the next Stephen King or George R.R. Martin.

Personally, Emma wasn’t a fan of either, but she couldn’t tell Isaac that since he wouldn’t let her get a word in at all. Even when they ordered, he had tried to order for her, before Emma took control of the situation. He hadn’t even asked one question about her. They met, he asked if she was indeed Emma and then he was off boosting his own image.

Seriously, where did this guy get off? Was he that insecure or just that full of himself?

Either way, this was one of the least enjoyable dates Emma had ever been on. Why would Belle even set her up with this guy? Belle knew her better than this and Belle wasn’t one to be blinded by people’s charm, usually seeing through them. There was no way that Belle didn’t know that this date would be a bust. Emma and Isaac were totally incompatible.  

Then again, maybe Belle did know that and she was giving Emma an out. After all they had agreed on Emma taking baby steps and that it would only be one date. So maybe setting her up on this date was just Belle’s way of helping her do that? Maybe Belle didn’t intend for Emma to like Isaac? But then again, Belle said that she wanted Emma to be happy, so why not set up a date with a guy that Emma might actually like? Someone that actually had a chance?

Not to mention the fact that this date wasn’t making Emma’s views on dating more positive. If anything, the date only furthered her opinion that dating sucked. Especially when guys like Isaac existed.

She wished that she had just stayed at home and watched a movie with Killian. The thought of him cheered Emma’s mood a bit.

Killian certainly wasn’t Isaac. Probably the exact opposite, in fact. Where Isaac boasted of his talents in writing, Killian never spoke about his work all that much except for the basics of writing. Never had she heard Killian praise himself. There was also the fact that Isaac wouldn’t stop talking and didn’t want to get to know her while Killian would rather listen and get to know her without pushing. Killian definitely wasn’t pushy, but Emma could tell that Isaac was, even if he hadn’t asked her about herself yet.

What am I even doing here? She thought as she pushed the food around on her plate.

The restaurant was nice, and the food was great, but listening to Isaac’s nonstop chatter had pretty much chased Emma’s appetite away. She was tempted to order another glass of wine, but she didn’t want to risk her sobriety on a half-empty stomach.

Realizing that she had completely zoned out on him, Emma refocussed herself and tried to pay attention, but the man was still going on about writing. Apparently he was working on a novel that would blow his creative writing teachers away.

Emma doubted it, and she hadn’t even seen his writing. Belle had told her often enough that all writing went through draft after draft, and that even the finished project was never perfect.

I shouldn’t be here. Emma sighed internally. I should be home, on the couch, deep into Chinese or whatever Killian cooked tonight. We could be watching a movie right now. God, she wanted so badly to be home in comfortable clothes, barefoot and full, and having a good time with Killian.

This Isaac guy wasn’t worth the effort that she put into this date.

“Isaac.” Emma interrupted. It was time to leave. “This isn’t going to work.” She stood grabbing her jacket and her purse.

“Wait, where are you going?” Isaac asked, confused at the abrupt change.

“I’m going home.” Emma said, pulling her jacket on. “This date just hasn’t really been fun. I’m sorry. Have a good night.” She walked away, ignoring Isaac calling out to her for her to pay for her dinner.

Seriously, where did he get off?

As hard as he tried to focus on the movie, Killian couldn’t get his mind off of Emma and the fact that she was on a date. A date with a man that was probably perfect for her. Someone that she could open her heart up to, and it wasn’t him.

Killian groaned. Enough. So Emma’s on a date? She doesn’t belong to you. She’s a single woman, and she deserves to find happiness.

Unlike you.

Killian closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the couch. He didn’t deserve to find happiness; after all, he was the one who left everyone behind, because he was selfish. It had hurt too much for him to stay, and this loneliness was his punishment. Love was nothing but pain and torment.

It was why he didn’t try to date anymore. He didn’t want to end up ensnared by someone who’d take his heart and not care for him. Not again.

At least, that was the plan until Emma came along. She had been a whirlwind crashing into his life, one that he’d gladly let swallow him whole. He was willing to take a chance, but the very fact that he was also scared him. Already, he had growing feelings for her where she had none and that gave her a lot of power even if she didn’t know it. It was a sobering thought. Would she break him too if he gave her his heart?

The door opened, startling him.

Emma walked in kicking off her heels. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Killian blinked, surprised to see her home so early. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.” She remarked with a teasing smirk.

Killian couldn’t help but smile back. “I meant that it’s early and you had a date.”

Emma shrugged. “Date was a bust.” I couldn’t stop comparing him to you. Though she wasn’t going to let Killian know that. Her heart and her head had been at war the entire way home. Should she just give in and give Killian a chance or was it just too risky? Things were going well between her and Killian. They might be becoming friends and Emma wasn’t keen on throwing a spanner into that. He deserved better than her anyway.

“Ah, so he didn’t meet Emma Swan’s standards?” He teased. Secretly, Killian was ecstatic that the date hadn’t worked out. You idiot. How can you be happy about this?

Emma snorted as she hung up her jacket. “The guy wouldn’t have met the lowest standards. He kept talking about himself and then tried to make me pay for food I didn’t end up eating. I’m starving by the way.”

“I made some chicken teriyaki with broccoli.” Killian told her. “It’s in the fridge.”

“Cool.” Emma walked further into the apartment. “I’m going to change, then we’re going to find a movie and have a night in.”

As he watched her head into her bedroom, Killian’s heart pounded in his chest. Emma wanted to hang out with him? After a disappointing date? Did she want his company or did she feel that she had no choice? Was he reading too much into this? He was probably reading too much into this.

His internal debate on the matter was interrupted by Emma returning, now dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants with all of her makeup removed. He watched her move to the kitchen heading straight to the fridge for the leftovers.

As she popped the food in the microwave, curiosity got the better of him. “Was the food at the restaurant bad?”

“No.” Emma said taking a Coke from the fridge. “It was good from what little I ate. I just lost my appetite early on.”

Killian grimaced. “He was that bad.”

He wasn’t you. Emma berated herself for the thought, but it was true.

Killian watched as conflict in her eyes before something seemed to snap in her.

“He was just so narcissistic.” She started, sounding annoyed. “From the minute we met to when I left it all I heard was how he was going to be the greatest writer of our generation. How he’d break records for the best seller lists. How he’d be richer than J.K. Rowling. It’s like how much of an ego can one person have?”

Having never seen the rambling side of Emma before, Killian was slightly taken aback before grinning. Was this a side of Emma that only her friends were privy to? Were they friends?

Emma took her food from the microwave and joined him on the couch, sitting closer to him than she would have normally dared. “I mean what guy talks about the fame and glory he’s yet to achieve for nearly two hours! I’ve been on terrible dates before where guys talk on and on about their life story, but this was like some whole other level of either narcissism or covering up some deep seated insecurities!”

He couldn’t help it, really, because her face was flushed and her nose scrunched up in her adorable way, her brows furrowed with indignation: he laughed.

Emma ceased her ranting, startled by his laughter. It certainly wasn’t the reaction that she expected, but more than that, it was the first time she had heard him laugh before. Sure he chuckled, but his laugh was so different. It was a deep and hearty laugh that began in his gut and worked its way up through him, forcing his head back and his mouth to widen in a broad happy expression. It was a sound that Emma found she wanted to hear again. She couldn’t help but smile at him, playfully hitting his arm. “It’s not funny.”

Killian struggled to recover. “You’re right.” A smaller laugh escaped. “I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat and managed to compose himself the best he could, that broad grin remaining on his face. “It’s really not funny how he treated you, but I’ve never seen you rant before. It’s adorable.”

A blush dominance’s her face, both from embarrassment at his words and naturally reacting to his compliment. “I’m not adorable.” She huffed.

“Cute, then?” He boldly teased.

Another huff escaped her, but she was still smiling. She grabbed the remote from him, ignoring the tingling her fingers felt from brushing against his. “My turn to pick the movie.”

A text came in on Belle’s phone as she cooked breakfast.

“Ugh, if it’s that Isaac guy again, tell him to leave you alone or we’ll file harassment charges.” Ruby grumbled, sipping her coffee.

Isaac had blown Belle’s phone up last night with texts about how rude Emma had been and how Belle was going to collect money for Emma for her part of the dinner bill. Belle had politely texted back and apologized, though insincere since she knew the date wouldn’t end well, on Emma’s behalf citing that it was unusual behavior on Emma’s part.

That hadn’t silenced the incensed Isaac, forcing Belle to ignore the rest of his texts.

Belle reluctantly checked the notification and was relieved that it was from Emma. “It’s Emma.”

“Thank, God.” Ruby said. “What’s she got to say for herself?”

Hey Belle. Sorry I bailed on Isaac.

Belle quickly shot a text back. That’s okay.

“She’s sorry.” Belle said. “There’s nothing to apologize for though. Isaac is a jerk.”

Ruby narrowed her eyes. “You still haven’t said what you’re up to.”

“Despite your valiant efforts.” Belle shot her a cheeky smile as the phone buzzed again.

I do feel bad, but it just didn’t click. Emma’s response said.

Belle wanted to laugh. Leaving mid-date was more than just a reaction to the lack of sparks. It’s fine, Emma. Honestly, he’s apparently a jerk anyway.

Uh oh?

Don’t worry about it. Belle reassured her friend. Besides, Belle could handle Isaac, and if she couldn’t, well it was a good thing that Ruby was a violently protective girlfriend.

Still. He wasn’t bad, just annoying. Hanging with Killian was more fun.

Her eyes read over the message twice. Mentioning hanging out with Killian in a text? That was very interesting. Though Belle wasn’t sure if that proved her theory or if Emma considered Killian a friend. She wasn’t sure which side to lean towards, but she did know that it took Emma quite a while to warm up to people and it was very clear that Emma warmed up to Killian very quickly. Too quickly, perhaps? Belle couldn’t say for sure. Careful of her words, Belle decided to pry.

Oh? What did you guys do?

Just watched a movie. Was Emma innocuous response.

“You have a look.” Ruby told her, munching on the finished bacon.

“What kind of look?” Belle asked as she texted Emma back.

Sounds like fun. What movie?

“The kind of look when you’re researching a paper and you’re starting to figure out what you’re writing.” Ruby explained. “You get the same look when you read a book and you piece together the plot before the end.”

Empire Strikes Back. You didn’t tell me he was such a geek! He quoted the whole movie!

That did get a laugh from Belle, who showed it to Ruby.

Ruby laughed too. “Just wait for when they both find out they’re Potterheads.”

“Ooh, I should throw that out there.” Belle said.

Just wait. Watch Prisoner of Azkaban with him.

Emma’s response was immediate. What?!!! He’s a Potterhead?!

Hufflepuff to boot.

“Yep, that got her attention.” Belle hummed.

Ruby narrowed her eyes. “You will tell me what you’re up to.”

“You will let it go.” Belle shot back.

“I could if I would but I can’t so I shan’t.” Ruby rhymed. “Should I annoy it out of you? After all sex and begging didn’t work, so I don’t have a lot to work with.”

“When did you beg?” Belle asked. “I clearly remember the sex, but I think I was begging you for more. You, however, didn’t beg.”

“Would begging work?” Ruby perked up.

“Nope.” Belle popped the ‘p’ and are the last bite of her breakfast.

“Please, please, please.” Ruby pouted.

“Nope.” Belle scurried back to their bedroom, Ruby hot on her heels.

Ruby tackled a giggling Belle onto the bed, attacking her with kisses. “Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

“Never.” Belle laughed, trying to wriggle away. “You’ll never break me!”

“Yes, I will!” Ruby cackled. “Victory will be mine!”

“Never!” Belle managed to roll Ruby off of her and grabbed a pillow. “Back off, monster!”

Ruby playfully snarled. “I’ll get you my pretty and your little pillow too!”

“I’m not even going to ask.” Killian’s voice surprised them both. They turned and saw Killian standing in the doorway of the bedroom, brow arched. Sweating and sporting running clothes, it was clear he had been on a run. “Sorry to interrupt, but Emma texted me to ask you both to a movie night at our apartment. Apparently neither of you were answering her.”

“I was busy attacking my girlfriend.” Ruby shrugged with a grin.

“I was busy defending myself with a pillow.” Belle explained.

Killian shook his head, before walking away. “Be at ours by seven!” He called back.

When they heard the door shut, the couple erupted into giggles.

“So we going?” Ruby asked.

Belle thought over her theory. Time to see if she was right. “Yep.”

Emma entered the apartment carrying a brown paper sack of wine bottles for movie night tonight. “Killian?”

Her roommate was no where to be seen, but Emma smelled food cooking in the empty kitchen.

Killian had insisted on making homemade pizzas tonight and from the looks of it, he was successful and the pizzas were cooking in the oven, the timer counting down until they were ready.

She went down the hall looking for the home chef. “Killian?”

Peaking in his room, she found that he wasn’t there either. When she turned around, she crashed into something hard, and hands landed on her hips, steadying her. Her eyes stayed forward, facing Killian’s bare chest, a hand instinctively rising up to rest over the wispy dark curls.

Killian breathed sharply, looking down at Emma, seeing her eyes glaze over as she stared at his chest. He swallowed hard, and spoke, if only to keep himself from making a mistake. “There was an issue with the pizza sauce. I had to get the stain out.”

She heard his words, but her mind was focused on how soft yet coarse his chest hair was against the palm of her hand, vividly recalling how it felt brushing against her that night.

“Emma?” Killian needed her to look up at him. If she didn’t, he was going to do something they’d probably regret.

Emma looked up, meeting his eyes, losing her breath at the intensity in them. They looked at each other, not speaking, breathing slowly as the air crackled between them. “Killian.” His name escaped her breathlessly.

Her lips were on his before either of them could form a conscious thought. A hand found itself behind his neck, pulling him closer. They stumbled back into Killian’s bedroom.

His hands tightened on her hips, pulling her closer, kissing her desperately. He had dreamed of this moment for a month, wishing that he could have her in his arms again and show her how he felt, and here she was kissing him. Emma was kissing him.

Emma didn't think as she ran her hands through his hair, pulling him to her, desperate to taste him. Her mouth opened for him, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

When Emma moaned into the kiss, Killian’s hands slipped under the hem of her shirt, finding her warm, bare skin, his fingers tenderly teasing a path along her spine. His lungs were burning for air, but he could care less as they fell onto his bed.

“Hey guys, we’re here!” Ruby called out. “We brought pie!”

Instantly, Emma pushed Killian off of her and stood up. Her breathing shaky, Emma knew that she must look flushed, and Ruby and Belle couldn’t find them like this. Especially with Killian still shirtless, on his bed, a noticeable bulge in his pants.

“Coming!” Emma called out. She looked back at Killian, who was staring up at the ceiling. Emma wasn’t sure if he was trying to calm himself, or if he couldn’t look at her. “Put a shirt on and wait a few minutes.” She told him quietly.

Killian swallowed. “As you wish.”

Emma tried not to read into his words as she headed to the bathroom to make sure she didn’t look like she didn’t just make out with her roommate.

Killian pushed himself off the bed and walked over to his dresser, grabbing the first t-shirt he could. Once he pulled it on, he looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. What the hell did he just do?

Screw everything up, that’s what.

“Hey.” Ruby knocked on the doorframe as she entered the room.

Killian turned towards her. “Hey.”

“You okay?” Ruby asked.

“Fine.” Killian ran a hand through his hair. “What’s up?”

A nervous expression crossed Ruby’s face. “Well, I have some news.”

“Bad news?” He asked, noting her tone.

“Not bad.” Ruby shrugged. “I’m just not sure how you’ll take it.”

That was enough to make Killian wary, his emotions already all over the place after what just happened with Emma. “Just rip the bandaid off then.”

Ruby took a breath. “Mary Margaret called.”

He stiffened up, anxiety throwing itself into his tumultuous emotions. “Oh?”

“She’s pregnant.”

It was as though his entire body was shocked by static electricity. His best friends were going to have a baby. Ex-best friends. Who’s fault is that? Killian shook his head lightly. “That’s…great.”

“She wanted you to know.” Ruby continued. “They miss you.”

That was just another punch to the gut. He didn’t want to hear about how people missed him; he didn’t deserve it.

“Pizza’s ready!” Emma called out.

Killian was glad for the interruption. He wasn’t keen to have the conversation that would inevitably follow. Killian left the room, Ruby trailing behind.

As he entered the living room, his eyes automatically found Emma.

Her eyes flicked to him, before focusing on her pizza.

His heart ached at the thought of Emma avoiding him, because he screwed up.

Isn’t that what you always do? You always ruin everything.

Killian put on a smile and greeted Belle, before grabbing pizza and a glass of wine, wishing it was rum.

It was going to be a long night.

Emma tried hard to focus on the movie, but her eyes kept finding Killian.

He had opted to sit in his armchair while they watched the movie; Belle and Ruby were curled up together on one side of the couch, leaving the rest of the couch for Emma.

It was clear to her that he hadn’t paid any attention to the movie at all, lost in his own thoughts. There were no comments made on his part, his eyes staring off into space.

Emma wasn’t any better, not talking at all, worried about him and what she had done. God, she had fucked up big time.

Belle and Ruby seemed to pick up on the tension too, trying to make funny and snarky comments and trying and failing to get Emma and Killian to participate. This was supposed to be a night of hanging out and having a good time, but it was all too tense.

Eventually, Ruby and Belle fell quiet as well.

Belle was looming between Emma and Killian, wondering if something had happened before she and Ruby arrived since Killian was brooding and Emma kept sending him nervous looks.

Ruby was too focused on Killian to notice Emma’s demeanor. She shouldn’t have told him about Mary Margaret’s news. Even five years later, he still didn’t date, because of Milah and now finding out his friends were having a baby was bound to throw him back into memories of how things ended with Milah.

No one really noticed the movie was ending until the credits rolled.

Killian excused himself quickly, leaving for the bathroom.

The girls began the clean up.

“What’s up with Killian?” Belle asked Emma, hoping for some insight.

Emma looked panicked at the question, which confirmed for Belle that something had definitely happened earlier tonight.

“It’s my fault.” Ruby groaned.

Both Emma and Belle looked at her surprised.

“I told Killian some news.” Ruby said. “Some old friends from Storybrooke are having a baby.”

“Isn’t that good news?” Emma asked.

“It is, and on some level Killian is probably happy for them.” Ruby sighed. “There was just this thing that happened before he left.”

“Milah?” Belle questioned. Belle knew the bare minimum about the Milah story since Killian didn’t like talking about it and Ruby was wary of the subject as well.

Ruby grimaced. “Yeah.”

“Wait, who’s Milah?” Emma hadn’t heard of her before, but then again, she and Killian barely knew each other. Plus, it’s not like either tried very hard to get to know each other.

Ruby glanced down the hall. She turned back to Emma and whispered. “Killian’s ex. It was a scandalous thing for a small town.”

“Why?” Emma asked, surprising herself.

Ruby hesitated, again looking down the hall to make sure Killian wasn’t listening. “Milah was old enough to be Killian’s mother. In fact, she had a son that was just a year older than us. To top that off, she was married and her husband was the wealthiest man in town.”

Emma grimaced. Even without knowing more than that, anyone could tell that that was a love story where a happy ending was guaranteed never to happen. “Do I want to know how this ends?”

“Well, Killian left town five years ago, doesn’t date or have friends outside of us, and can’t even call his own brother or best friends.” Ruby listed off. “So, no, you really don’t want to know.”

If it was what drove Killian to isolate himself and protect his heart, Emma could understand that. After Neal, after jail, she drifted around for years working thankless jobs with long hours and returning to cheap, shitty apartments. Then she came to Boston and had trouble with the law, and Cleo found her and took a chance on her.

Yet, even after these past couple of years with Cleo mentoring her, Ruby and Belle as her friends, Emma still tried to keep a wall up between them and her. Being alone was something that she had learned to live with a long time ago. Trusting others just wasn’t something that she did, even with her friends.

It seemed that she and Killian had more similarities than she realized. There was an unspoken understanding between them, something that told them that they knew why the other was the way that they were.

“Wait, why would news that his friends are having a baby upset Killian?” Belle asked, her brows furrowed.

Ruby’s eyes widened with worry as if she said too much. “It’s just a reminder. You know, of how he’s missing out, because he thinks he deserves it or something.”

Emma narrowed her eyes, knowing that Ruby was lying. There was something else going on.

“We should go.” Ruby said.

Belle looked ready to protest, but Ruby was already gathering her things. Belle turned to Emma. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Emma crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to flush as the kiss with Killian came to the forefront of her mind.

The other woman didn’t look convinced. “I just thought that maybe something happened before Ruby and I came over.”

This time Emma couldn’t stop herself from being flustered. “No, no, nothing happened. We’re good. It’s all good.”

Belle made a noncommittal sound, but said nothing more as she turned away and headed to the door where Ruby was waiting.

Emma let them out and they said their goodbyes. As soon as she shut the door, Emma banged her head against the wood and groaned loudly.

Not only did she fuck things up completely with Killian, but now Belle suspected something.

Great, just great. What am I going to do now?

He hated the look that was staring back at him in the mirror. That haunted, sad, wounded look that made him feel like he was a kid again.

Killian scrubbed a hand over his face. His emotions were all over the place and he had no idea how to process everything.

When he thought about the fact that Mary Margaret was pregnant, that she and David were going to be parents, he was truly happy for them. It was just hard to hear. After what happened with Milah…Killian had been young, he still was, but he was willing to step up and be the man that Milah needed.

Be the father that he needed to be.

Then Milah decided it all for them. No more baby, and no more relationship.

It had been hell, the looks the he got in the streets, people who pitied him, people who looked down on him. Liam always lecturing him, his friends constantly trying to advise him, Gold lurking around with silent threats.

He wanted to go home, but as long as Gold and Milah were there, he couldn’t heal from the scars she left on his heart, and he didn’t want anyone to suffer Gold’s wrath just by associating with him. Gold hadn’t done anything before Killian left, but there were warnings. Warnings that no one else had to know about.

No, he couldn’t go home again.

Then there was Emma.

She kissed him. He kissed her back. It was everything that he had hoped for since she had left him that night.

Killian could still feel her lips against his; how soft and pliant they were, how aggressive. There was so much passion within her; she left her mark on him, that was for sure. Even though she kissed him, Killian was worried that he might’ve pushed her. He had been so careful to keep his distance and give her the space that she needed, but now, he might’ve scared her off.

Things were beginning to go well with her. They were becoming friends and learning to live with each other.

With that kiss, Killian felt a sense of dread at the thought of Emma retreating behind her armor and pushing him away. The last thing he wanted was for her to avoid him again; for either of them to be uncomfortable. He had no idea how to fix this.

An apology was a good start, but what if Emma didn’t accept it? What if she didn’t want to hear what he had to say?

Why did she even kiss him in the first place?

Killian closed his eyes, a headache growing in his temples. It was all too much to think about. He rubbed at his head, leaving the bathroom.

He checked the living room to find the girls gone. Hopefully, Emma was still here. Killian walked back to her room, finding the door shut. His hand came up to knock, but he hesitated. Would she answer if he knocked? Would she give him a chance to talk to her?

He stared at the door for a moment longer, before backing away. With a sigh, he decided to give them both time.

They could talk about it in the morning.

[spartanguard]

you belong among the wildflowers

Summary: Emma Swan's life has been far from easy. Neither has Killian Jones'. Through a handful of meetings, a couple tattoos, and some fantastic music, maybe they'll find a happy ending. (CS Modern AU heavily inspired by the music of Tom Petty) | Rated GA, 7k | tw: minor mentions of alcoholism

a/n: HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, HOLLI!!! aka @mryddinwilt​ I started planning this AU quite a while ago, in honor of our shared love of “Wildflowers”, but then it kind of spiraled when I sat down to write last Monday only to learn of Tom Petty’s passing. So this is kind of double duty as your bday present and an ode to one of my all-time favorite musicians.

thank you to @shipsxahoy and @optomisticgirl for looking at this!

Hope your day was amazing, Holli, and hope you enjoy this! Thank you for always being an encouraging, awesome person!! <3

“You belong among the wildflowers...you belong somewhere you feel free.”

She wasn’t sure when she first heard the song. It must have been on the radio when Emma was a kid, in one foster home or another. The memory was fuzzy, but the sentiment was clear: that she deserved to be happy one day, and to have love and peace.

Those all seemed like things well out of reach for a 16-year-old runaway orphan, but it was a nice thought. And a wildflower was as good as anything else to get a tattoo of, especially when the main goal in getting a tattoo was more just getting one out of rebellion than wanting it to carry any specific symbolism. Who knew, though? Maybe she’d eventually get that.

At least, that was what she told herself as the needle stung the skin inside her wrist. She liked to think she was tough, and she’d certainly been hit harder, but—ow. Oh well, it was probably due punishment for using a fake ID to get it in the first place.

On the other side of the dingy parlor was a guy who couldn’t be more than couple years older than her—fresh out of high school, probably, since it was early summer—also wincing through the work being done on his forearm. But when he realized she was staring, he sent a sly grin and a wink her way, making her blush. What? He was cute, even if his “beard” was patchy stubble at best and doing nothing to mature his babyish features.

He left halfway through hers being done, but was smoking against the building outside once she finished, with a guitar case propped against the wall next to him.

“Want one?” he offered, holding the pack out to her; she didn’t realize she’d been staring again. She also had never smoked before, but—eh, what the hell? She strode forward and, as expertly as she could manage, slid one out of the box and held it between her fingers like she’d seen done so many times. He deftly flicked his lighter and she lit the cigarette, then brought it to her lips and inhaled...and then sputtered and coughed once the smoke hit her lungs, which was received with a deep chuckle.

“First one?” he teased, blue eyes laughing. Her response was continued coughing. “Well, you never forget your first.” She glared. “Don’t breathe so deep,” he offered, his accented voice turning gentle.

Once she’d regained her faculties, she tried it again, doing as he said. She wasn’t a fan but it was definitely better.

“There you go, love,” he cheered, sounding almost proud.

“Not your love,” she threw back.

“Fair enough.” She joined him against the wall and they settled into an easy silence. He didn’t have to say anything for her to get the sense that they had more in common than being freshly tatted; the fact that he was alone, too, spoke volumes.

But then she nearly jumped when he introduced himself. “Name’s Killian; Killian Jones.”

“Emma Swan.”

“Suits you.”

“What does?”

“Swan.”

“What does that mean?” Maybe things were better when he was quiet; this boy had no idea how to talk to girls, did he?

“It means you’re feisty and I’d rather not piss you off.” Well, okay; actually, that was probably the best complement she’d ever received. “Is that your tattoo? A swan?”

Oh, right—people asked what tattoos meant. Better get used to that. “Uh, no—it’s a flower,” she blurted out, shoving her wrist toward him and showing off the fresh ink. “It’s...well, it’s pretty, and it’s...a reminder, I guess.”

“Of what?” He was genuinely curious.

“That even though I’ve had a rough start, I can still have a happy life.”

He smiled at her, cutting dimples into his round, boyish cheeks. “That’s awfully brave, lass.”

She just shrugged; maybe it was, but if she gave up hope, what kind of life would she have? Unused to such praise, she turned the attention back to him. “What’s yours?”

He held out his arm, showing off the intricate heart design, deep red against his lightly tanned skin.

“That’s gorgeous,” she muttered, suddenly feeling self-conscious of her colorless outline. “What's it mean? Are you in lo-ove?” she sing-songed—a well-used defense mechanism that she had a feeling he’d see right through.

“No, not yet,” he brushed off with a laugh. “But someday. Just like you, I have hope.”

She scoffed. “You really think anyone will love people like us?”

“Even the losers get lucky sometimes.”

They spent the rest of the night burning through the pack of cigarettes and wandering the backstreets of Boston, chatting under the light of the full moon. He was from England, originally, but he and his brother ended up in the states with a distant relative after their parents were gone. He’d just graduated high school and was headed west, just like her, but he was chasing a dream, just he and his acoustic. She just wanted to be anywhere but here.

“Let me know if you end up in Portland,” she told him once they’d found their way to the bus terminal. Funny that her last night in Boston was when she’d make her first real friend.

“Will do. Take care, Swan,” he goodbyed with a salute, boarding his L.A.-bound coach.

She waved him off, watching as his bus faded into the dark and silently promising to try.

“The last three days the rain was unstoppable. It was always cold, no sunshine.”

“Sounds about right,” Emma muttered to herself as she putted around the record store. More like last year, for her. As good as it was to finally be out of jail, she was quickly learning that not many places were eager to hire an 18-year-old ex-con with barely even a GED. Thank goodness there was a homeless shelter nearby, but the beds there sucked even worse than her prison cot and what she wouldn’t give for something just a little plush to sink her still-aching body into. Though, she supposed, that ranked pretty low on her current list of problems.

She’d just come back from yet another unsuccessful interview—who knew McDonald’s was so picky?—and had a stack of even more applications in her backpack to fill out and return. But her spirit was just a little bit more shattered after her shit morning, so she popped into the music shop to see if that could perk her up a bit. Plus, it was air conditioned, which automatically made it better than the Arizona oven outside.

She browsed the used vinyl, skimming titles both familiar and unfamiliar as someone sang and played somewhere in the store. Honestly, that was the main reason she’d stuck around; she certainly couldn’t afford to buy anything, but the free show was already helping her mood. And it was hard to feel unmotivated when that song was playing.

“There's something good waitin' down this road. I'm pickin' up whatever is mine. Yeah runnin' down a dream…”

She was halfway ready to pull out a pen and start filling out all those forms right there in the middle of the store, but then she realized that there was something oddly familiar about that voice. Cautiously, she followed the power cords toward the back of the shop, where a makeshift performance venue was set up.

And there he was, after all this time. Killian Jones.

He looked a little bit more worn, just like she probably did; the scraggly beard had filled in some; his dark hair was just as much a mess as it had been a couple years ago, and that tattoo was teasing her from under the rolled-up sleeve of a plaid shirt while he played his guitar. More than a few times, she’d wondered if he’d had any success. Phoenix was a far cry from Los Angeles, but hey, he was performing—and performing well.

She hung out near the back of the small crowd, just watching him pour his heart into his instrument and the microphone. The audience was bobbing along and tapping their feet to the familiar tune, and his acoustic rendition and soulful voice made it all the more endearing.

And then the song ended, he thanked the crowd, and they dispersed as he packed up his things. A few people slipped him some tips, and he flashed that dimpled smile that made her own mouth tick up at the corner. It was good seeing him happy, even if the odds were high he’d long forgotten her. Out of curiosity, she wondered if he had.

She carefully made her way to him. “Hey.”

He stood straight up at her voice, then slowly turned toward her, a grin forming on his face. “Swan?”

That answered that question. “Killian,” she answered with a small smile.

“Bloody hell.” To her surprise, he engulfed her in a hug, but quickly, she returned it. “How’ve you been, love? I’m sorry I never made it to Portland, but here you are and...wow. Do you want to get coffee?”

She was nearly whiplashed from the warm reception; she hadn’t been expecting that. “Uh,” she stammered, not sure how to approach the money thing.

“My treat,” he quickly added enthusiastically.

“Okay.”

They settled into a corner table of a quiet little cafe, and before he could ask her about the last two years, she quickly focused on him: “So, are you a rock star yet?”

He snorted. “Hardly. Only had enough bus fare to get me to Oklahoma, so I’ve been picking my way across the country ever since. But I’ve been playing bars and shops all the time, saving up. Actually, I’m catching a train to L.A. tomorrow. Care to join?” he offered with a wink.

“I wish,” she answered, laughing. “Looks like I’m stuck here for a bit.”

“Oh?” He seeemed genuinely disappointed. “Fancy job here?”

“I’d take any job, actually. I...I just got out of prison.”

“Oh. I see.” To his credit, he didn’t try to put any distance between them, like most people would. Actually, he was almost annoyingly in her space; if it was anyone else, she’d be the one backing away, but Killian’s presence was unusually calming. And, for some reason, she felt compelled to spill the whole thing.

“Yeah, I, uh, met a guy in Portland, and he got me in trouble. Set me up for the stuff he did. He ran off, I got caught. Ended up in jail for a year. Had a kid. So, here I am, a year later. Just giving it another go, I guess.”

“Wait—back up; you had a kid?”

Oh. She curled in on herself a bit; she hadn’t meant to say that part. “Yeah. Found out while I was in there. He’s...I put him up for adoption. No one wants a teenage jailbird for a mom.”

He reached out and grabbed her hand, turning it over to find her tattoo. As he rubbed it with his thumb, he said, “A couple of years ago, I met a fiery young lass who told me that even though she had a rough start, she still had hope for a happy life.” She averted her eyes, studying the floor instead; it had been a long time since she’d given that tattoo thought, going so far as to cover it with marker while in jail. Things had been pretty bleak then and weren’t looking much better. “Hope is a powerful thing, Emma; don’t tell me you’ve lost yours.”

“Hard not to.”

“Don’t, Emma. You deserve it.” She finally glanced up, and the resolve in his blue eyes was nearly intimidating. Slowly, she nodded, though she still wasn’t sure she believed it.

She nodded at his forearm. “What about you? Found your true love yet?”

He chuckled. “Not yet. But I’m sure they’re out there.”

“I hope you find them, Killian.”

“I hope you find your happy ending, too, Swan.”

Again, they spent the night together, wandering around Phoenix, him smoking and her not (she’d learned her lesson there), until they ended up outside the train station.

“Look me up if you ever end up in L.A., alright? I’ll be the one playing the Viper Room.”

She wanted to laugh, but he was so confident. “I will. Good luck, Killian.”

“You too, Emma.”

They embraced before he boarded the train, and she waved until it was a speck in the distance, before heading back to the shelter with a bit more determination than she’d had the night before.

“Well, the moon sank as the wind blew and the street lights slowly died…”

Man, what a night. It was 11 o’clock, but she was too keyed up to hit the sack, despite everything that had happened already. And the thought of heading back to the just-slightly-nicer-than-a-fleabag motel she was staying in quickly made her decide that if she was stuck in Nashville, she may as well enjoy it.

The nice thing about the town was that there was music and life everywhere, with no signs of dying anytime soon. She had her pick of the bars, and it only mattered what kind of music she was in the mood for.

The more famous venues were all packed, but there were plenty of holes-in-the-wall and dives to grab a drink and a show. A cozy little place stood out to her, and pleasing, upbeat, classic-sounding rock was escaping the open door. She gave her skintight dress a quick tug down (ugh, this thing loved to ride up); flashed her legal, 22-year-old ID at the bouncer (not that he was looking at it); and headed into the smoky, hazy bar.

The band onstage was good, and so was the whiskey. It was nice to just be able to chill for a moment; she hadn’t been able to do much of that with her new job. Not at night, especially. Spying a few plush couches toward the back of the place, she got a refill and headed back, hoping to put her feet up for a bit and maybe even kick off these impractical heels.

The eyes of just about every man in the bar landed on her as she passed through, but she’d gotten pretty used to ignoring that by now. Until one pair did a double take and called out for her.

“Emma?”

She stopped—no way it was him. His Facebook page hadn’t said anything about Nashville—did it?

“Swan, is that you?”

But clearly, her memory was unreliable, because she turned and there he was: Killian Jones, rockstar. Well, almost rockstar, but he certainly looked the part in his skinny jeans, black t-shirt, and—“Are you wearing eyeliner?”

“Good to see you, too,” he teased before wrapping her up in a hug, then stepping back and giving her a once over. “I’m going to guess you didn’t just get out of jail this time.”

“Nope,” she answered, laughing. “Just enjoying a night on the town. Are you performing here?”

“Yeah, I’m the next set.”

“I had no idea!”

“You say that as if you should have had one.”

“I mean, you do have a Facebook page.”

“Did you ‘like’ me, Swan?”

“Of course I ‘like’ you.” It was amazing to her how she could so easily slip into the same old banter with someone she’d only spent hours with, but it felt like so much longer. “I’ve gotta be able to tell everyone that I once had coffee with a rockstar.”

He ducked his head and laughed, cheeks growing adorably rosy. “I’m not there yet, but,” he jerked his thumb toward a professional-looking woman with dark curly hair, “my manager thinks I will be soon.”

“You will.” Emma had never been more sure of anything. Her own life was still in flux, but she’d always known that teenage boy from what felt like a lifetime ago would go on to big things, even if his face had lost some of that youthful softness now. “Do you have time for a drink?”

“Of course.”

They settled on a sofa and caught each other up on the last four years: he did finally make it to L.A., and worked as a bouncer a bit before finally catching a break—and the eye—of a talent scout, and then a record label. And now he was on tour, trying to drum up enough attention to be able to put together an album.

“I tried to catch you in Tallahassee, but it didn’t work out. Got too busy that night.”

His eyes narrowed with uncertainty. “And what are you up to now?”

“Using my good looks to trap guys,” she answered, only semi-sarcastically.

“Swan, beg your pardon if this is rude, but…” His eyes drifted over her outfit again, and he seemed oddly concerned. “Are...are you a hooker?” he asked quietly.

She was taken aback at first, but then could only laugh. “No, but I can see why you’d think that. I’m in bail bonds. This is honestly the best way to nab a skip.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “I was near ready to offer you a job on my road crew,” he replied with a wink.

“You couldn’t afford me,” she threw back, smirking.

They kept chatting, and she had another drink, letting the warm buzz of liquor settle in her veins and relax her. Unconsciously, she found herself moving closer and closer to him, until her bare arm was lined up with his. If he cared, he didn’t say, or maybe his rum was having a similar effect.

He traced her tattoo with his index finger. “How’s this going?” he asked; he was still the only person who knew what it meant.

“Slowly. But things don’t suck anymore.”

“Sounds like progress.”

She followed suit, drawing her thumb around the edge of the heart on his arm. “And you? Found your love yet?” Her lips nearly brushed the pointed tip of his ear, they were so close now.

“No. Still waiting.”

“You’re a patient man, Killian Jones.”

“Aye, that I am.”

His voice dropped on that, with a seriousness she wasn’t used to hearing from him. She shifted away just enough to get a good look at his face, and his eyes were boring into hers, practically neon in contrast to the low lights of the bar. The words of the singer on stage swam into her consciousness; it was nearly comical how perfectly they fit the moment.

“But then somethin' I saw in your eyes told me right away that you were gonna have to be mine…”

The air between them grew heated very fast, raising goosebumps on her arm. And before she knew it, she was surging forward, crashing her lips into his.

Her hands found the nape of neck and his settled on her waist as she kissed him with everything she had. There was something just so perfect, so soul-satisfying about it as she nipped at his lower lip, that she didn’t know why she’d waited so long.

Their mouths and tongues fought for dominance as he held her tight, until finally they had to break apart for air. And then she realized what she’d just done, and who she kissed, and whose arms were holding her tight, and instantly backed away.

Hope was one thing, but the reality of a love—of a relationship—was still too daunting.

He rasped, “That was…”

“...A one-time thing,” she finished for him, not giving him another answer. She couldn’t; not with him. It was Killian. Their meeting was a fluke and the odds of it happening again were so slim; what was she thinking? Even if he was the one person who understood her; just—no. They couldn’t.

She hastily grabbed her purse and stood, a little too fast judging by the way the room spun. “Emma, wait—” Killian started, hopping up to stabilize her.

“No, Killian, I—I can’t.” She shrugged him off, not daring to look in his eyes. “Good luck.”

His plea fell on deaf ears as she raced out of the bar into the night, but one last line of lyrics caught her attention.

I'll never get over how good it felt when you finally held me; I’ll never regret…

But she would regret it, she knew. So it was better to run now.

“I'm so tired of being tired. Sure as night will follow day...”

It was raining—storming, really, and the power had gone out. So when someone started banging on her townhouse door from out in the dark night, louder than the battery-operated radio she had on, Emma was as terrified of an intruder as she was concerned it was someone seeking shelter.

Should have known it would be both.

The pounding grew quiet and a muffled voice was singing something unintelligible, which was then followed by a soft thud against the door and the hollow sound of a dropped glass that should have broken but somehow didn’t.

Baseball bat in hand, she cautiously tiptoed down the hall and peered through the peephole. Whoever it was was slumped against the door, soaked to the bone, and was dramatically raising their arm to knock again. As the sleeve of their leather jacket rode up thanks to gravity, she got a glimpse of a tattoo she’d recognize anywhere—though it was a bit different now. Just like him, she supposed.

“Killian, I’m opening the door; stand back,” she called, not wanting him to collapse in her entryway. Something told her he was going to regardless, but she heard a groan and the sounds of movement as she undid the locks and chains.

And then she swung open the door, and there he was. “Swan.” A tired smile deepend the lines around his eyes; she responded with a tentative one of her own. She honestly thought she’d never see him again after that night three years ago in Nashville—that he wouldn’t want anything to do with her, especially once he had hit it big.

But now a one-hit wonder was standing on her front porch, dripping wet and reeking of rum. Unable to come up with anything to say, she just stepped aside and gestured for him to come in.

“’M sorry to barge in on you like this,” he stammered, staring at the wood floor. “I...jus’ didn’ know where else t’go.”

“How did you even find me?”

“Same as you found me. Facebook. The internet.” It was her turn to cast her eyes down; she still ‘liked’ all his social media posts, but figured he’d never notice.

As a result of said stalking, she knew everything that had happened to him in the last few years, especially with his manager-turned-girlfriend. The celeb magazines loved him and Milah, going so far as to call them “Millian,” especially when his debut album was tearing up the charts. She’d seen the excess, the wild living, and the absolute love in his eyes when he was with her. She’d been happy for him, truly. And damn if that album wasn’t a rocker.

But then, in true rockstar fashion, he partied too much, lived too hard, and then the two of them got in a wreck. They weren’t at fault, thankfully, but Milah was killed instantly. He dropped out of the spotlight, was dropped from his label, and had seemingly disappeared.

Only to show up on her doorstep, on the other side of the country, clearly heartbroken and drunk as a skunk. Lucky her.

“Come on; you need a shower.”

“I keep crawling back to you...I keep crawling back to you.”

After getting him clean and dry—a feat in itself, given the lack of lights—and into the too-big clothes some one-night stand had forgotten, she had him wrapped in a blanket on the other end of her couch, where she sat watching him sip hot cocoa while the radio made background noise. Where he’d at least been a bit happy at seeing her when he arrived, now he just seemed like a kicked puppy, albeit a wasted one.

“So, how you’ve been?” he asked, in a tone that was too forced to be casual.

“Seriously?”

“What?” he threw back, glaring at her. “I’m sure you know all about me; isn’t it fair that I get caught up, too?”

“There’s nothing to catch up on.” There wasn’t, really; she just continued to catch skips and move around; it was pure luck that he caught her here in New York. “And I’m not the one abusing their liver here.”

“Be glad you don’t have a reason to.” He set his empty mug on the coffee table with a thunk and slumped against the cushions.

She scooted closer to him and gently took hold of his arm, running a thumb along his tattoo. He’d added to it since she saw him last: now, it had a jagged dagger down the middle, and a ribbon bearing Milah’s name. It looked fresh. “She seemed like an awesome woman,” Emma commented, hoping that might get him to open up.

“She is. She was. Bloody hell, I’ll never get used to that.”

Emma kept studying the tattoo, knowing that if she looked at him, she might lose her composure. “You got your wish, though: you had love.”

He just grunted. “Fat lot of good it did me. The high was better than any drug, and the crash is far worse.”

“The rum probably doesn’t help.”

“Doesn’t hurt.”

He fell silent after that, and she continued to massage his arm. The fist he’d been holding tight eventually slackened, and his breathing evened out. Finally, she dared to look at his face; he was asleep, but didn’t seem to be at peace. Dark circles nearly matched his thick eyelashes; his beard was scraggly again, but due to it being unkempt rather than juvenile; and hair was an uneven mess. How did someone who seemed to have everything going for them suddenly end up like this?

She stared down at her own tattoo. It seemed to be mocking her now. If things had gone so terribly for Killian once his dream was reached, then surely hers had no better chance of coming true. What a waste.

Killian spent the night on her couch and she made him breakfast the next morning, forcing food and water into him to help him detox. He was sober, it seemed, but she recognized the shaky hands that were gripping his fork with all he had.

“I can’t thank you enough for taking me in, Swan,” he finally said after the arduous process of eating was done. “You had no reason to; I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me,” she assured him. “But if you do feel like making it up to me: get help.”

He nodded solemnly. “I will.”

They both sensed the goodbye that was coming, but she had one more question. “Killian, why did you come to me?”

He just shrugged and smiled sadly. “You understand.”

She did.

The TMZ headline about his rehab stint lifted a weight off her, knowing he’d be okay—and making it that much easier to continue with her next move. It had been a minor blessing he’d been too far gone to notice all the boxes.

And then she made sure her address wasn’t listed online. For security—or so she told herself.

This place was certainly out of range of a Starbucks, but at least Storybrooke had some sort of coffee shop. It was one of those quaint, hipstery cafes that she generally made a point to avoid on account of being too homey—but, if Henry got his wish, that's what this little seaside town would become.

God, Henry—she was still pinching herself. Obviously, she'd thought about him a lot in the past ten years, but she never imagined he'd show up at her door the way he did, dragging her back here. He was a fantastic kid, better than she could ever hope for, and certainly better than she could have done.

His adoptive mother was obviously (rightly) uneasy with the situation, given that Henry basically blackmailed Emma into bringing him back and then into staying longer to get to know each other. It seemed he was a bit of a loner, and a generally curious kid, so it kind of made sense to her why he’d want to have her around. Assuming Regina allowed it, of course.

And hey, Emma could use a vacation. Two weeks away from the hustle and bustle of city life? She could do that, even if meant changing up her means of sating her caffeine addiction.

Thankfully, it was hard to mess up her coffee order, so she found a comfy corner of the shop and settled in with a book, killing time until Henry got out of school. The window she was seated by gave a stunning view of the Atlantic, and for a while, she got lost in the morning lights dancing on the waves.

“Well I started out down a dirty road…”

Emma stilled. She should have known this would be the type of place to have a guitar player. But that in itself wasn’t what froze her blood—it was that voice.

“Started out all alone…”

Impossible. Granted, he’d fallen off the radar since he went to rehab, so she just assumed he was back on the road somewhere. She’d never imagine he’d be here, though.

“I’m learning to fly, but I ain’t got wings. Coming down is the hardest thing.”

She was almost scared to look; she hadn’t taken her eyes off the ocean since hearing that first line. But she knew she had to.

And there he was: perfectly at home behind the mic with an acoustic guitar, perched on a stool in jeans and plaid, getting lost in the music like he did all those years ago in Arizona.

And he looked good. It was hard to look worse than he had when they’d last been together, but Killian appeared not just healthy, but happy. His ginger beard was neatly trimmed, hair was intentionally disheveled, and there was a brightness in his eyes again that sparkled like the sun on the water she’d just been staring at.

“Well some say life will beat you down. Break your heart, steal your crown.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” she muttered. Unconsciously, she started rubbing her tattoo with her thumb, like she'd taken to whenever he crossed her thoughts. It was great to see him like this, but it also made her realize just how far she was from anything resembling the peace that showed in the relaxed set of his shoulders and gentle smile as he sang.

“I’m learning to fly around the clouds. What goes up must come down.”

Thankfully, the cafe had a side door. Calmly, she gathered her things and slipped out. At some point, she knew she’d probably run into him—this town was only so big—but she didn’t want to face that today.

Fate had other plans, though, when she wasn’t paying attention to her path while she and Henry headed to the diner for an after-school hot cocoa. While listening to Henry tell her about that day’s ornithology lesson, she collided with something warm, solid, and familiar that instantly braced its arms around her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, lass—Emma?” His mouth hung open in disbelief when he realized it was her, eyes growing wide as he studied her, then crinkling at the corners with a grin.

“Hey,” she answered meekly, with a shy smile of her own.

“Bloody hell, I’ve missed you,” he exclaimed, pulling her in for an actual hug that she couldn’t help but reciprocate. It was Killian, after all—he was still right when he’d said they understood each other. His arms felt just as good as they had that night in Nashville. And no one had ever missed her before. “Where did you go?”

“I moved right after—”

“Mom, you know Killian?” Henry asked, interrupting their reunion.

Killian pulled back with a quizzical expression on his raised brow. “‘Mom’?”

“Emma’s my birth mother!” Henry shouted before Emma had a chance to reply, so she just nodded. Recognition sparked in Killian’s eyes, likely thinking back to that conversation years ago. Henry continued, “How do you guys know each other?”

“We go way back, lad,” Killian answered. “Your mum’s me oldest friend.” She blushed, but he was probably hers, too.

“Oy, what about me?” a similarly accented voice protested. Killian finally let Emma go and stepped away, and a slightly taller man was standing behind him. (She refused to admit that she immediately missed Killian’s presence around her.)

“Emma, this is my brother, Liam. He’s my—I’ve been with him for the last couple years, since...since I last saw you.”

She could fill in the blanks. “It’s nice to meet you,” she started, extending her hand, but then was shocked to be pulled into another hug.

“Thank you, Emma,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. She was stunned, but nodded a response.

How was it she’d only been in this town a matter of days and already felt more wanted, more a part of things than anywhere else she’d been in the last 28 years?

Liam pulled back and cleared his throat; she pretended not to see the watery look in his eyes. “I’d love to stay and chat, but Killian and I have an appointment.”

“Can we get coffee sometime?” Killian asked quietly. “I’d love to catch up.”

“Yeah, me too,” she replied, unable to deny it anymore. She at least owed it to him.

Two days later, she arrived at the shop a couple hours before the time they’d decided on so she could catch him playing again. This time, she didn’t hide in the corner, and she didn’t run off before they could chat. He’d seen her, anyway, and knowing him, would just track her down if she’d tried to flee. She was tempted to, though, when he sang the last song of his set.

“I dreamed you; I saw your face. Caught my lifeline when drifting through space.

I saw an angel; I saw my faith. I can only thank God it was not too late.”

His eyes drifted to her more than once and she could feel her cheeks burning red. Add that to the list of firsts on this whirlwind trip: first time someone sang a song to her. And, of course, it was something super deep and heartfelt and she wasn’t tearing up, not at all, because how did this random friendship with a guy she’s barely spent 24 total hours with become so damn important?

“Now I'm walking this street on my own. But she's with me everywhere I go.

Yeah, I found an angel; I found my place. I can only thank God it was not too late.”

“How’d I do?” he asked seriously, once he was packed away and they were settled into plush chairs and fresh drinks. His sincerity took her by surprise—this was the guy who’d headlined some pretty major venues (including the Viper Room), and he was concerned over his performance in a coffee shop?

“You were fantastic; why would you be anything else?”

He blushed and ducked his head down in that sweetly embarrassed move she’d seen so many times. “I’m just getting back into it. Couldn’t while I was in rehab, and just...didn’t want to once I got here.”

“How could you not? It’s such a huge part of your life.”

He shrugged. “It was also a reminder of everything I’d lost.”

She knew that all too well, and couldn’t really blame him. That was why she’d been so transient in the last decade, and why she never got too close to people. They always left and let her down. Save for Killian, she supposed, despite his erratic presence in her life.

“So what have you been doing?” she asked. It was easy to fill a life with working and moving, like she did; it was hard for her to imagine what someone did staying in one place for as long as he’d been here.

“Helping Liam with his business—he runs the marina. Done a lot of sailing, a lot of reading. And I’ve been seeing a therapist.”

“Good.”

“Aye,” he agreed, nodding. “It’s been good, but it wasn’t quite...fulfilling, I guess would be the right word. So both Liam and my doc both encouraged me to pick up playing again, to see if that would help.”

“And?”

“So far, so good,” he concluded with a smile. “I was denying myself my own happiness by avoiding it, despite all the bad memories.”

“Even though you got your heart broken?”

“If it can be broken, that means it still works.”

His revelation hit her like a sword in the gut. Again, she started rubbing her tattoo, thinking of that far-off dream she’d once had. Had she been denying herself the chance at it?

Was she too scared of getting hurt again to go after her happy ending? Was it even worth it?

Or, more accurately, was it worth it not to?

“Swan?” His worried voice made her realize she’d zoned out, and the furrow in his brow when she looked up was a bit more concern than she could handle in the wake of massive personal epiphany.

“I...I’ve gotta go, Killian, I’m sorry,” she sputtered as she stood. “I’ll call you, or find you, or something,” she added on, babbling. “Just...I need to...go.”

She didn’t turn around to see the fallen, distressed look on his face; she just went. She needed to think. Her trusty yellow Bug was waiting outside and she just drove for a while, finally stopping at a scenic overlook with a panoramic view of the harbor. She didn’t even leave her car; the sight was impressive enough from where she was seated. And she let Killian’s words sink in.

She’d once dreamed of a life where she’d feel happy and secure. Not one where she’d want for nothing—just one where she had what she needed. And maybe even one where someone chose her.

But life had thus far proven that it was just a dream and she was better on her own, scraping by and making do. Had she just gotten so used to it that it was her norm? Or was she scared that by opening herself to that possibility of a happy life again, she’d inevitably get her ass kicked by the world and would never recover?

The last time she’d seen Killian, he was utterly defeated. Thankfully, she’d never gotten that low, but he managed to overcome it. He had hope—she could see it shining in those blue eyes. If he could do it, why couldn’t she?

The sun slowly fell and it grew dark around her as she sat with her thoughts. An ancient streetlight eventually flickered to life above her, rousing her from her thought-filled trance, and she knew what she had to do.

Because there was one person who had never left her. One who always had faith in her and understood her. And if she was going to go after that mythical happy ending, she wanted him at her side.

The next day found her at the coffee shop yet again. She was a bit late after having breakfast with Henry, but she arrived just in time for the last couple songs of Killian’s set.

“Had to find some higher ground. Had some fear to get around.”

There he was again, reading her like a book. She’d wonder how he did that, but again—they just got each other. And she was ready to turn to the next page.

“Square one, my slate is clear. Rest your head on me my dear. It took a world of trouble, took a world of tears—it took a long time to get back here.”

Once he was packed up, he cautiously approached her. “You alright, love?”

“Will you go out with me?”

If her straightforwardness caught her by surprise, it nearly knocked him off his feet. He practically fell in the chair next to her. “Beg your pardon?”

“Go out with me. On a date.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking?”

“Don’t tell me you’re that old-fashioned, Jones.”

He chuckled. “I heartily accept, Swan.”

The date was perfect: good food, good wine, and a stroll under the stars—so many more in Storybooke than Boston, and the nerd pointed out some of the constellations to her.

The gentle kiss outside her rented room was even better. There was none of the awkwardness of Nashville, or the altered inhibitions. It just felt good and right and somehow perfect, like she’d been waiting for it forever, but hadn’t been ready yet.

She got a job in Storybrooke. She grew closer with Henry. She made more friends in town—Mary Margaret, the teacher; David, the vet; Belle, the librarian (and Liam’s wife). Once she gave in, once she let herself go after it, her happy ending settled around her—or maybe she was the one who settled into it.

Whichever it was didn’t matter; it was hers and it was real and she was never letting it go.

The cool wind whipped against her face from where she stood on the prow of the boat, but Killian’s strong arms held her close and kept her warm, and she leaned into his solid, sure presence that hadn’t wavered...well, ever, even when they were apart. His sweet voice sang in her ear and she knew—she finally had made it.

“You belong among the wildflowers.

You belong in a boat out at sea.

You belong with your love on your arm.

You belong somewhere you feel free.”

If you’d like to hear all the songs referenced in this, check out this playlist: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AldoDm2bV04&list=PL7YAlVeSin3Kq_1xtetAI0rovPvp-6Wdk

tagging some others who might enjoy this: @kat2609 @thesschesthair @fergus80 @xpumpkindumplingx @its-like-a-story-of-love @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @fairytalesandtimetravel @disastergirl @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @jscoutfinch @nfbagelperson @stubble-sandwich @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose