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kazoosandfannypacks · 1 year

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"Open to Interpretation" by kazoosandfannypacks

Chapter 5/16: Perks of Being a VIP Pairing: CaptainSwan Rating: General Word Count: (1.8K/24K) Summary: Emma Swan is appalled at works by modern artist Killian Jones- until a handsome stranger convinces her otherwise- and after introducing himself as the artist in question, he invites her out on a date. As their relationship develops, they find that they might not be as different from each other as originally thought. Chapter Summary: Emma and Killian arrive at the dinner and mingle with some of the guests Tags: au, fluff, captain swan, modern au Author's notes: A lot of my fics are third person limited perspective, and my chapters often jump back and forth between whose limited perspective we're looking at in each section. As you read this fic, you may notice that my chapters themselves take turns with the perspective- Emma's perspective in chapter 1, Killian's in chapter 2, Emma's in chapter 3, ext. This was an intentional decision and challenge on my part, and I thought it felt a little more polished that way- but it also means that I've often spread spans of a few hours in the fic across multiple chapters. Taglist: @zahara @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @booksteaandtoomuchtv @jrob64 @tiganasummertree @anmylica @teamhook @undercaffinatednightmare @gingerchangeling @lonelyspectator @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @cs-rylie @pirateprincessofpizza [if you'd like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!]

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"Let me get the door for you," Killian said as he parked the car outside the museum.

"He doesn't have to do that," Emma thought, though she wasn't about to stop him.

Her door opened, and he held out a hand to help her out of the car.

"This is certainly a better parking spot than I got the other day," Emma took his hand and got out of the car.

"Perks of being a V.I.P.," Killian said, holding up his lanyard badge. He then stuck his elbow out to her, and she tucked her arm around it and entered the museum on his arm.

"Now remember," he leaned towards her and said, "a lot of the people here are gonna be pretentious little snobs- and most of them won't take a shine to your criticism like I did."

"I'll be diplomatic," Emma nodded.

"I'd appreciate that," he said.

They walked down brightly lit hallways to the museum's reception hall, Killian once or twice pointing out some painting they passed by and some bit of trivia he knew about the art, or about its artist or the story behind the piece.

"Do they have you as a tour guide as well in your spare time?" Emma teased.

"Sometimes when I need inspiration I roam the hallways looking for it," Killian said, "hoping that something I'll see will inspire me- and it is part of the job to be a bit familiar with the rest of the pieces in the museum as well."

Emma nodded, "What else does an artist in residence even do?"

"Promote different events the museum is hosting," he said, "hang out around the galleries in my free time- something about the chance to meet the artist often draws people in. And, most notably, I'm to work on a mural for the museum."

"And what do you get out of that deal?" "They pay for room and board," he said, "not to mention a few extra grand a month for other expenses, access to whatever supplies I find myself needing for their commissioned painting- and, of course, an extra boost in publicity and the chance to add 'artist in residence' to my portfolio and resume."

"So let me get this straight," Emma asked, "you get paid to do what you love and the museum gets publicity because they're letting you freeload?"

He nodded and smiled, "an artist's life is one to love."

"Imagine what I could do with a setup like that," Emma thought. Though she loved art, she seldom had the time and energy to sit down and paint something while still working forty hours a week and keeping up with housework and her other hobbies. Sure, she didn't ever consider going professional with her art, but she wouldn't mind getting paid to sit around painting whenever the muse struck her. As it stood, she'd scarcely had time to make headway on the painting she'd started a few days ago.

Once they got to the reception hall, Emma noticed that quite a few people had already arrived, and Killian began introducing himself and Emma to each of them, following a pretty simple formula: introducing themselves, mentioning how great it was to meet them, and some comments about the other's line of work peppered with dry humor, before an "excuse me, I need to go welcome this person over here."

Emma met more self-proclaimed "important" people in twenty five minutes than she'd ever met in her life. Mayor Mills was there, along with her business tycoon mother (who Emma was pretty sure helped buy her her votes,) and the elder Mills daughter who was working hard to learn to fill her mother's shoes. Multi-millionaire Adam Gold was also in attendance, along with his associates, Madame Deville and her husband. Among the snobbery as well were a few prestigious doctors, a couple different artists, many of whom Killian seemed to know well, and a few other notable creative minds. Of course, in attendance as well was the curators of the museum, Mr. and Mrs. Nolan- a rather charming couple.

"You're quite the natural," Killian whispered to Emma as they walked away from their twelfth snobbish conversation, this time with Emma interjecting a few clever but tasteful comments of her own.

"I'm learning from the best," Emma smiled.

"Well, don't worry," Killian said, "the next people I introduce you to will be much more charming- Mr. Booth is one of few individuals who make fundraisers like these bearable."

He introduced Emma next to a couple that seemed a bit younger than most of the other attendees, much closer in age to Emma and Killian.

"Mr. Booth," Killian held his hand out to the other man.

"Always a pleasure to see you, Mr. Jones."

Both men seemed to hold a secret in their eyes, a secret which then turned into a sparkle, then a smile, then a laugh.

"August and I go way back," Killian explained to Emma.

"August Booth?" Emma asked, "as in, the author August Booth?" "You're familiar with my works?" he asked.

"Indeed," Emma said, "I deeply enjoyed your Revolutionary Fairy Tales series."

"I'm flattered." August said, "and you are?"

"Emma Swan," she shook his hand, "pleasure to meet someone interesting for a change."

August smiled and addressed Killian, "I like her boldness."

"As do I," Killian said, looking down at Emma and smiling, "we met in my wing of the gallery a couple days ago. Miss Swan was in the middle of insulting some of my masterpieces. I believe the exact words she used were…."

"'If absurdism and modern art had a child in a soulless void?'" Emma offered.

"Ah yes," Killian smiled, "and then something about being tasteless with nothing to communicate."

"But then someone happened along and showed me a new way to look at it," Emma smiled and nudged Killian a little.

"And I figured if there was anyone I could trust to keep me awake through another one of these dinners, it would be her."

"How lovely," the woman standing next to August said.

"Where are my manners?" August asked, "Emma, this is my fiancee, Belle."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Emma said.

"And you as well," Belle said, "I take it this is your first date together?'

"Yeah," Emma smiled.

"And you brought her here?" August asked Killian, seeming almost appalled, "do you want to lose her that quickly?"

"It's a stroke of genius, really," Killian said, "we start with the worst date I can imagine, and then her expectations are so low that the next date seems eight times better."

"And a second chance dinner's on him next week if tonight goes terribly," Emma smiled, "though so far- especially by the graces of present company- it seems to be going pretty well."

"Well, I hope we don't change your mind," August said.

August paused, then turned to Killian, "Unless you're rooting on it going terribly, so you can get a guaranteed second date," he faked a gasp and pretended to be offended, "is that why you introduced her to us? Hoping our raging intellectualism would bore her to death?"

"Quite the opposite," Killian said, "I was hoping your charming personality and clever wit would make up where mine lack."

"Some pretty big shoes to fill there," August said, "but I think we can make it work."

Killian motioned to a nearby table. Each table setting had a name card at it, and Emma quickly noticed Killian's, her own name set next to that, followed by August's, then Belle's.

"V.I.P. table," Killian said, "it pays to be the artist in residence- and friends."

He pulled out Emma's seat for her, and she blushed a little as she sat down and he pushed her chair back in. August did the same for Belle.

"What makes the V.I.P. table better than the others?" Emma asked.

"Closest to the stage," August said, as he sat down.

"And closest to the kitchen," Belle peeked around August at Emma, "so they bring our food out sooner."

"I'm down for that," Emma said.

"Best part of the evening," August said.

"Ah yes," Killian said, leaning on the back of his chair, "because the donations to the Humbert Cardiovascular Fund don't matter nearly as much as if our dinner is brought to us three minutes before anyone else's."

August didn't respond, and neither did Emma, or Belle, or even Killian.

After a brief moment, Killian excused himself. Soon, the lighting in the room dimmed a little, and the rest of the seats at the table were soon filled- Mr. and Mrs. Nolan took the seats next to Killian's, and Doctor Whale and his wife next to them.

"I wonder where Killian went," Emma thought, noting that everyone else was already in their seats and things were about to begin, "this benefit dinner seemed to be pretty important to him."

She then noticed someone stepping onto the stage, and after a moment realized it was Killian, who took a microphone off a nearby stand.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I want to thank all of you for coming out here tonight. For those of you who don't know me, my name is Killian Jones, current artist in residence here at the Nolan Blanchard. For those of you who do know me, I'm terribly sorry."

Everyone laughed, even Emma, who was still trying to piece together what was going on.

"After dinner's been served," Killian said, "the curators and I will give a brief word about the Humbert fund that the proceeds from tonight are going to. Until then, allow me to introduce to you tonight's entertainment- Leroy and the Lucky Seven."

Everyone clapped as Killian stepped down from the stage and the band entered from the side wings. Emma didn't take her eyes off Killian though, even noting how he tripped a little as he stepped off the stage.

Once he took his seat next to Emma, she placed her hand on his shoulder, then spoke into his ear in a hushed tone.

"You didn't tell me you were hosting this event."

He turned a little to whisper in her ear. "Hosting, promoting, it's all the same, really."

"You also didn't tell me you were promoting it."

"I didn't think it was 'relevant to the discussion.'" he teased, then twisted away from her a little so he could look her in the eyes, "had I realized it would bother you…."

The band started playing as their eyes met again, something simple and dramatic in both, like the start of falling in love.

"It doesn't." Emma smiled, "I like a little mystery."

"Alright then, Sherlock," he said, playfully tapping her nose.

She smiled and rolled her eyes, then moved her hand off his shoulder, reminding herself where they were, that she was helping him represent the museum tonight, and they couldn't do that if they just sat there ogling over each other all evening. They needed to act professional and maintain some dignified conversation with someone other than each other.

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