#She has a million fucking charms on her phone and bag. it's kind of impressive

[s1llycilantro]

Are Shuichi and Kokichi studying in the same school as any other of the drv3 participants in the cinema au? :0

Sorry for such a late response but yeah!! Most do, and it's not limited to drv3 either! Though they don't all go to the same school (drv3 cast haha) they all talk or atleast know of eachother. Doesn't mean they all like eachother though ! :P

[charmingturkeysandwich]

Knock, Knock Ch. 20: Teach You a Thing or Two

OK, so yes it’s been far too long since I updated, but I’m going to try to get this done in the next month or so! It’s 27 chapters total, so we’re nearing the end... with a few twists and turns still to come. If you’ve forgotten where we left off, there’s a summary under the cut to refresh your memory! Or if you’re reading for the first time, you can use the links below to start from the beginning.

Read on AO3.

Read on Tumblr (links to next chapter at the end of each).

Previously on Knock, Knock...

Killian and Emma, having developed from begrudging neighbors into true friends and finally into something more, had finally gotten a chance to go on an actual date, had some well-earned sex, and even finally decided to define their relationship as official. Ruby, having moved to Seattle with Whale, could no longer help Killian out with his business, but Emma has decided to step in, no longer afraid it will ruin their relationship. They, along with Will and Belle, are organizing an upcoming fundraiser for the local library as a test to see if Killian’s excursions can venture into educational territory.

There was once a time when the only thing in the world Killian longed for was a chance to spend his sunrises on the deck of his ship. In those days, sure, he was always up before the sunrise. But by the time the sun was actually gracing the sky with its presence, he was locked away in a building using his brain (and his charms) to turn a one million dollars into twelve before he’d even had his second round of coffee.

That version of him had imagined a perfect life of leisure, of enjoying every moment, of taking the time to actually feel the moment the sun cracked through the clouds, over the horizon, and its beams started dancing their way over the waves breaking against the shore, the ships, the rocks leading up to lighthouses.

But, like any good fantasy, that wasn’t fucking real. No, the non-Wall Street life might have led to sunrises on his ship, but hell if he actually noticed them.

He’d been up since approximately 4:30 AM when his alarm roused him, he kissed the forehead of his grumbling but still sleeping girlfriend, shuffled to his own apartment to get ready, and set out for the docks. Today was the day he’d been preparing for, the day he finally tested if he could be more than just a good time. And it was bloody terrifying.

Suddenly his ship looked like a damn bobby trap. He was panicking about every board, every stair, every possible place a child or parent could trip. He scrubbed every spot that he’d recalled some frat boy may have spilled his beer. He sprayed so much Lysol that the inside of his nostrils had to have been disinfected, and he’d started losing track of the things he’d actually come to the ship to take care of.

Around 9 AM he was chugging coffee and re-reading Belle’s pirate research - attempting to memorize it all despite the fact that he wasn’t even going to be the one reciting it – when he uttered a sentence he’d never once imagined falling from his lips.

“Ugh, I should have stayed on Wall Street.”

The sun was getting in his eyes and his phone’s brightness didn’t go any higher and he was just about to turn toward the door and head below deck when a seemingly ethereal voice ripped him from his stress-induced alternate reality.

“What was that, sailor?” Emma called, her smirk and eyebrow-lift painfully obvious before Killian had even looked at her. When he finally did turn around to face her, she was casually leaned against the hull, arms crossed and sunlight glinted off her bedhead. She’d only tossed on a pair of yoga pants and an old t-shirt before venturing down, but she was still so stunning that Killian was at least 75 percent dumbfounded at the reminder that this woman was actually his.

“Sorry, love, I… this whole thing is getting to me.”

“What do you mean, whole thing?” she asked, pushing off the wood and slowly approaching him, bakery bag now visible in her right hand.

“This!” he shouted, his arms flailing in all directions before he nervously scratched behind his ear.

Fuck. The stress really was getting to him if he’d lost all ability to form coherent sentences. That was his specialty, after all. Especially when it was for Emma’s benefit.

“OK, sweetheart. You need a doughnut. And a break. And perhaps to have woken someone this morning to come with you so someone could have stopped you from going off the deep end. Perhaps literally.” She motioned at the cleaning products precariously perched on the ship’s edge, a chore he didn’t realize he’d never finished.

“Emma, what if…”

“What if, what? What if today doesn’t go well? Then we don’t do another event like this one! It’s a trial run, Killian, not the Hunger Games. There’s no life and death here. Unless you worry yourself to death, which I’m currently legitimately worried about.” Emma let the pastry bag fall to the deck and closed the distance between them, wrapping him up in one of the tightest hugs he’d ever been on the receiving end of. “Please, babe, calm your shit.”

Killian nuzzled his nose into her messy hair, inhaling the smell of her shampoo mixed with the supreme pizza they’d cooked together the night before. “Always a way with words, Swan.”

“Learned it from the best!” she gave him a quick peck on the cheek before retrieving the treats from the floor and (metaphorically) putting on her business hat. “OK, Jones, we’ve got a checklist to take care of.”

-

There was something insanely adorable about how much this man cared. You see, there was a day when Emma had truly thought that anyone caring about anything to the level that Killian did was one of two things: either it was all a show, or it was for personal gain. No one actually possessed that level of passion in their hearts and kindness in their souls (cheesy). Nope, the only possible conclusion was that they were faking it, were reaping benefits from it, were just playing a game.

But Killian played no games.

(OK, he was pretty boss at Scrabble, but that was beside the point.)

He put his whole heart into everything he did. He was genuine and true and actually honest-to-God invested in the things he loved. She’d known this, of course. It had really been the only reason he was able to scale her insanely tall and quite barbarous walls – because she knew it wasn’t an act. But even that had a certain level of selfishness to it. He got the girl.

And, yeah, if this event went well then there’d be opportunity for money. But there already was opportunity enough for payouts that required far less prep and very little effort. No, this man actually wanted the events that took more brain power, that gave something back.

There was a reason he’d been grumbling about wishing he was back on Wall Street when she’d dropped in on him that morning. $12 million was nothing to a billionaire, not in the end. But one really kickass educational event to a kid? It could actually be the thing that inspired them to do something with their lives. And that level of importance wasn’t lost on Killian.

Or Emma.

So while she found herself many times that day just stopping to admire his panic, adorable as it was based on how it stemmed from his truly admirable compassion, she was still fully focused on the task at hand – making the fundraiser a success and getting the kids involved. It was time to make some good memories for them (which was clearly a divergence from many of their previous excursions, as she’s positive a certain percentage of Killian’s past clientele likely didn’t even remember a good portion of theirs – fucking rum).

Belle and Will had made it to the ship by about noon, two hours before the fundraiser was to begin. They had their pirate outfits stowed below deck – they were far too uncomfortable and constricting for the preparations, after all. So the four of them went about their assigned tasks: Emma was decorating and waiting for the caterers to show, Belle was laying out the grab bags and the games the librarian had approved, Will was organizing the release forms for photography and liability, and Killian was readying the ship and plotting their course.

Around one they all went to dress (in shifts, of course – no impropriety was to occur on Killian’s ship this day, he repeatedly announced), and guests began arriving around 1:30. Killian would welcome them aboard his ship, give them the general rundown of the afternoon’s activities, and direct them to where they could put their things. Emma provided the kids with eye patches and plastic hooks and other play-pirate garb while they all awaited departure time. Belle and Will were truly impressive in their abilities to connect with the kids, even before the actual “teaching” or games began. They were seamlessly interacting with them, engaging their questions, and keeping excitement up. Once they’d announced the beginning of the excursion and Killian got to the actual sailing part, she’d already heard the adults offer a multitude of praises to him about how surprisingly professional everything was and the high hopes they had for the day.

Emma could see the pride beaming from his (heavily eyelinered) eyes, but she could also see that fear inside, the reminder of the “pressure” of the day. Obviously it wouldn’t be very professional at all if she were to use her usual tactics for calming him down, so she nudged Will and asked him to go reassure his mate that everything was going to be just fine while she took Will’s place among the children.

They spent a few more minutes play-fighting and chatting and just letting the kids get comfortable before Belle launched into the actual educational segment and it was almost jarring how quickly the kids sat down and just started… absorbing. They were fascinated by Belle’s stories, by the tales of piracy up and down the coast, by the facts about what exactly was being stolen and traded. She was sure to explain that pirates weren’t actually cool dudes most of the time, but she did tell some tales of men who identified as pirates who did all they could to interfere with slave trading, and while that seems like a subject far too dark and uncomfortable for children of that age, Belle’s delivery of it was just so… appropriate. At times Emma realized she was acting far more like a guest than like one of the afternoon’s presenters when she noticed her slack-jawed expression in the reflection of a parent’s sunglasses, but fuck it – she was impressed.

Killian really had no reason to worry at all.

-

The kids had been amazing.

Belle had been amazing.

The food had been better than usual and the parents had been calm and patient and the games had been an unbridled success both in fun and in fundraising and really overall the day had been just damn near perfect.

(Seems like he’d had no reason to worry at all.)

(Or perhaps his worry had been the key to their success – bet Emma had never thought of that.)

Killian was just bidding farewell to the last of the afternoon’s patrons as they all disembarked the ship when he felt a pair of arms slink around him from behind.

“Swan, they can still see us!”

“Killian, for god’s sake, I’m hugging you, not blowing you. Calm down.”

A few parents and kids turned back to wave at them as they left and Emma and Killian both waved back – Belle shouting a few last-minute reminders at the kids as they left (she was such a kid person, it was insane).

“All went well, I’d say?” Will commented as he gathered trash and left-behind pirate accessories.

“More than well! That was fantastic, Killian. I think you’ve got a strong future ahead as an outlet for fun and education.” Belle was still using teacher voice – whether intentionally or by accident – but Killian was so truly proud of them that he couldn’t find it in himself to mock her (good-naturedly, of course).

“Aye, it was a good day. I think we’ll be able to do many more like it. Well, hopefully, anyway. Emma, did you get a good amount of pictures? I feel like we should probably post one right away. Ruby said that was what I should do, anyway…”

“Already ahead of you!” Emma practically squealed, ripping her arms from his waist and pulling her cell phone from its holster at her hip. “I think this one is best. What do you guys think?”

Emma held her phone up to the three of them, a draft already saved on Killian’s Instagram. The photo captured a lovely moment between Belle and a local set of siblings (kids Belle herself had helped to place with their long-lost father just months before), their eyes bright and excited as she explained to them the differences in the replica coins Killian was pulling from his “pirate chest.” He actually looked calm in the photo, which didn’t seem possible considering his internal panic, but for just a moment he could see what probably everyone else had all afternoon – that they’d really done this thing 100% … and loved every minute of it.

“Oh, sure, you pick a photo without me in it,” Will griped, but Emma just rolled her eyes.

“It’s perfect, love,” Killian assured her, taking the phone from her hand to post the photo before she let anyone make her doubt her wonderful Instagram skills.

“Now, who’s hungry?” Belle asked, Emma so distracted by the notifications pouring in on Killian’s phone that he didn’t think she’s actually heard her.

Yeah, they all had good reason to be proud.

-

She’d been starving. Between leaving the apartment abruptly that morning and then spending most of her pre-excursion energy on making sure Killian didn’t lose his marbles, it had been a long day for Emma. A long day in which she forgot to actually eat (not that she ever overate on pirate days, not with that corset to deal with). So when Killian gently poked her to ask if she agreed with Belle’s suggestion they get food, she may have actually moaned.

(Will had a field day with that one.)

The four of them cleaned up as best they could and switched back into appropriate clothing before venturing off to a pizza parlor not far from Killian’s ship.

(Yes, they’d had pizza the night before, but Emma could probably eat pizza every day. Well, as long as she still got some grilled cheeses in there. And onion rings. Damn, she was hungry.)

Predictably, they spent the first half hour or so going over the afternoon, sharing funny stories of kids asking awkward questions (why did my mom and dad laugh so much when Captain Killian said pillaging and plundering earlier?) and all the moments that made them super proud (the kid actually wanted me to read him another story!). They talked a little about how they’d change up their style in the future, about how they’d like to move into the fictional stuff and even into the more sciency things like marine biology. Killian seemed most excited to schedule nighttime excursions that would allow them to talk astronomy, but Emma had to step in as the super buzzkill on that one since they had no way of predicting if the stars would even be visible.

Silence befell the group of them when the pizza was placed at the table, no one even bothering with using a plate before they dug in. Will, who liked ranch dressing on his pizza, actually poured it right on top. Belle scolded him for his inability to eat vegetables without and excessive amount of fat, but it was clear to anyone with eyes that she didn’t actually care. Killian had said he was in the mood for spicy so half the pizza had buffalo sauce and jalapeños, and Emma was 99% sure she was going to start sweating if she ate it, but she dove in anyway, pride lighting up in Killian’s eyes that he’d seemingly made an influence on her “delicate palate” (he’d called it that once and to her chagrin, she realized she was an awfully plain girl when it came to food).

When the pizza was all gone and the beer almost drunk, Belle had raised her bottle. “To many more adventures?”

The other three of them raised their bottles in return, clinking them together, before Killian added, “and to many more double dates after?”

Emma panicked for a moment, worried that the label might cause tension from the other side of the table, but Will simply responded “to many more” as he and Belle looked at each other with a smile.

 “But we juuuuuust finished planning and executing something. Can’t you take a damn break?” Killian whined as Emma pulled out her laptop and perched herself on her bed.

“No, Ruby has a kind of busy schedule. I’m going to need to Skype her tonight to talk about Mary Margaret’s shower or else I’ll have to wait until next week. And it’s important! You were the one going on about all the technology that will keep me connected with Ruby. Now it’s time to let me connect.”

“Oh, I was intending quite a lot of connection tonight, love. But it did not involve your computer. I mean unless you’re into the whole filming it thing, which I actually could get behind if you just make super sure to turn off your iCloud…”

“Killian!”

“Come on, Emma! We deserve a nice… release.”

She truly hated to turn him down – or, more accurately, put him off until later – after all, they certainly did earn some quality naked and alone time. But she really did need to talk to Ruby, both for her planning abilities and her general friendship. Emma hadn’t actually gotten to tell anyone yet that she and Killian had officially crossed that barrier into labels and never a night apart and partners and forgive her if she just needed to gush for a moment.

(And then fuck her boyfriend after.)

“We’ll get that release, Jones. Just… be patient? I promise, it won’t be more than an hour. Then you can have me however you want.”

“Fine. I’m going to … I don’t know. Go for a walk or something.”

Killian leaned down and kissed her forehead but the disappointed wrinkle never left his face. “Oh, come on. I’m not asking that much of you! Just an hour.”

“I know, I know. I just like to whine. I’ll be back soon, Swan.”

And with that he scurried out the door and Emma clicked on Ruby’s contact info, ready to plan a celebration for Mary Margaret while simultaneously celebrating her own actually-making-normal-relationship-progression.

(Ruby was going to be so proud.)

-

He hadn’t actually planned on going to see Dave. He’d thought it was best to use that time to check up on the ship, make sure he hadn’t left any messes that couldn’t be cleaned tomorrow. He figured it was a semi-clear night; he might look at the stars some and take deep breaths and not think about the hundred dirty things he so desperately wanted to do to his girlfriend.

His girlfriend.

He’d of course been using the term in his head (with glee) and had said it to Emma. But in the midst of such a hectic week, he hadn’t actually used the term with anyone else. Not even Belle or Will, with whom he and Emma had spent much of their past few days.

And now the two of them were off doing… well, something together, so he couldn’t share the news with them now. But he had gotten a text from Dave about maybe signing up for a darts tournament the week after. Which meant he was probably just hanging out at home scrolling through his Facebook feed.

And suddenly Killian’s feet were taking him to the closest thing Emma had to family.

 Mary Margaret had been surprised but not displeased when she opened her front door to find Killian on the other side – which had been a relief. Dropping by unannounced to the home of a pregnant woman hadn’t been his best decision that day, so he was glad (and lucky) for the welcoming smile he was met with.

As he’d suspected, David was sitting on the couch, baby book on his lap but staring very pointedly at the screen of his phone. “He’s watching Nanny-cam videos and trying to convince me we can’t ever leave the baby alone with anyone who isn’t family. And he’s not even out yet!” Mary Margaret rubbed her swollen belly. “So that’s how life is in the Nolan household tonight. How are you, Killian?”

At that David finally looked up from the phone. “Killian! What brings you here?”

“Oh, just fancied a walk and thought I’d say hello.”

“Ah! Let me make you a drink. I don’t actually have any rum, Killian…”

“You know I’m not actually a pirate, love?”

“In her defense,” David interjected just as Killian was about to launch into a further complaint about the misconception. “You are still wearing eyeliner.”

Shit. “Oh, that. Yes, we had our first ever educationally minded fundraiser on my ship today. It was apparently such a success that I decided not to wash my face before wandering the neighborhood.”

“Well what do you say, is iced tea good enough for your non-pirate alter ego, captain?”

“Sounds delightful.”

As Mary Margaret headed into the kitchen and Dave invited Killian to sit, he finally started feeling almost nervous about having come here. Emma may or may not have told them herself. Was it even his place to spill her beans? Not that it was much to spill – a label isn’t anything but a word. But that word actually said a lot, considering the long road Killian and Emma had both taken in order to get there.

“Is something wrong?” David asked, after what was probably an uncomfortable silence.

“No, quite the opposite actually. I guess my actual reason in coming here was to share some good news. But now I’m not sure it’s mine to share.”

“I swear, Jones, if you knocked Emma up I will punch you so hard…”

“Mate! No! No. We are not at that point in our relationship, and even if we were that would be our decision and not something worthy of you punching me. But no. I just wanted to tell you that Emma had actually asked me sort of… where we stood. And we decided that we’re official, I suppose you’d say it. Exclusive. Boyfriend and girlfriend. And now that I’m saying it out loud it sounds juvenile, but it felt like a success and I just wanted to share. So… I did.”

David was oddly quiet but his anger had entirely melted away, a smile slowly growing on his face. “You know, that might actually be a bigger step for a relationship with Emma. I’m proud of you, man. Both of you. You’re… good for her. You’re good together. It’s all very good.”

“What’s good?” Mary Margaret chirped as she came back to the den, a tray with a pitcher and three glasses balancing against her slightly protruding waist.

“Emma and Killian. They’re official! By Emma’s request, even!” David announced with what seemed like actual, genuine happiness.

Mary Margaret smiled as she put the tray down on the coffee table, exhaling long and deep. “Finally.”

Read the next chapter!