#also david's disappointment that killian was joining

[mccallhero]

favourite ouat scenes: 24/?

[sailtoafarawayland]

The Daughter You Have (Not That Girl)

Summary: “Take me home,” she whispered against him, and when she pushed onto her toes and hungrily met his lips with her own, pressing every bit of the things she wasn't ready to say yet into him, he knew that she wasn't just talking about a place.

Rated: T 

(This is an edit of my very first story published over on FF way back in 2015, but new to AO3. I've corrected some grammar and fixed a few errors, but have kept it true to what my intentions were at the time. It follows "There's No Place Like Home", but continues as if neither the urn nor Marian returned to Storybrooke)

- AO3 - 

Chapter 1/1

It was a little thing, nothing more than a gentle touch on his wrist, that opened Emma's eyes fully to something she had a feeling her subconscious had been protecting her from up until that point. David and Mary Margaret were disappointed with her. The signs had been there from the beginning – they were so obvious now that she was looking back – but it had been the family dinner at Granny's that had made their feelings perfectly clear.

Things had changed for Emma after she and Hook traveled through Zelena's time portal – a lot had changed, and when they'd finally gotten back, she knew what it was to return home. This was the town where her family was, where her heart was. The entire adventure had also opened her to other possibilities, things she had been eager and uninhibited in exploring since their return.

So when her mother called to let her know they were all meeting at Granny's for dinner, it hadn't occurred to her to do anything other than show up with the person she'd been spending her evening with. After all, they'd intended to eat at some point, so even though the family dinner would shorten other activities they'd had planned, Emma knew they'd make up for the distraction later.

The scene when she and Hook entered the diner was something that tugged at her heart. Every year when she was a child, she'd wished for the same thing on her birthday – to not be alone, to have a family. To have one now and really know that they weren't going to give her up, it was something she'd never thought she could have. So it was understandable, as caught up in the emotion of it all as she was, that she didn't notice the slight fall to Mary Margaret's face when they stepped inside, or the almost imperceptible tightening of David's mouth.

Placing a light kiss on Henry's forehead as he smiled up at her, she took the empty chair alongside him, the familiar heat of Killian beside her as he pulled out the chair at her right side, the comforting weight of his hook resting easily on her leg beneath the table.

She'd smiled at him, his own bright grin contagious beneath his flushed cheeks.  

The two tables pushed together were crowded, Regina, Robin, and Roland being a natural extension of the weird, extended family they'd all fallen into, but everything felt perfect to Emma in that moment.

She was happy.

That's why it was so jarring when it happened.

They'd gone through the tedious chore of ordering food, Roland unable to decide between chicken fingers and pizza, and the conversation was light and easy. Laughing at a quiet comment Henry had made, she'd turned to share it will Killian, knowing he would enjoy the quick-witted remark. Henry had been enjoying spending quite a bit of time with the both of them lately, and clearly the pirate's verbosity had worn off on him. She'd leaned into him, the action intimate and familiar, her arm crossing his body to gently squeeze his hand as she whispered in his ear.

It was a small gesture of affection, an easy expression of her happiness, and if she hadn't happened to look across the table at the exact moment she did, she wouldn't have seen it, but she had, and she did.

Mary Margaret's quickly stifled sigh, the slight flare of David's nostrils.

In that moment, Emma didn't need to ask them if they disapproved of her relationship with Killian, to test their words and weigh them as truth or lie – she read it on their faces as easily as if they had sent her a text.

“I don't feel great,” Emma cut in, interrupting the flow of conversation as she stood abruptly, the legs of her chair stuttering against the floor. “Sorry, kid, but I've got to go. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Henry shrugged, already turning his attention to the dessert menu he'd been eyeing up. “Feel better, Mom.”

She squeezed his shoulder once, a tight smile on her face, and turned toward the door, needing to get out of the diner that was suddenly too small to hold the frustration and anger coursing beneath her skin.

Killian rose with a bit more grace than she'd been able to muster, his words charming and polite despite the concern she could read beneath them.

Emma didn't go far, simply taking the few steps she needed to get away from the glare of the diner's lights before waiting for Killian to join her, immediate relief folding over her as she was enveloped by the scent of leather and salt – the mark of the sea far too ingrained in everything he wore to ever fade. The heat from her breath clung to his jacket as she pressed herself into his embrace, needing the closeness.

“Talk to me, Swan. Are you unwell?”

She didn't want to talk.

She didn't want to do anything other than run away from the fact that her parents were far from happy about her happiness. She just wanted to wrap herself in his body, finding peace in the friction between them that always brought her to completion so perfectly. She wanted to feel the slide of his fingers, rough and calloused, over her skin, the hard chill of his hook at her back.

She was happy, and they didn't want that for her.

If she didn't soothe the wound that realization left on her heart, she wasn't sure what she would storm back in there and say in front of everyone.

“Take me home,” she whispered against him, and when she pushed onto her toes and hungrily met his lips with her own, pressing every bit of the things she wasn't ready to say yet into him, he knew that she wasn't just talking about a place.

* ~ * ~ *

As Emma lie in his arms that night, listening to the slow creaks and moaning pipes that ran behind the walls of Granny's, her thoughts traveled back through the days and weeks since their return from the Enchanted Forest. She tried to remember how her parent's had been from that first moment until now.

There had been relief etched on their faces as Emma recounted their adventure, and gratefulness when they thanked Killian for not letting her go alone and keeping her safe. They had been friendly even, for once acting as if he belonged in Storybrooke, as if he had a place there and was more than an unwanted outsider looking through the window – but apparently their good will had an expiration, and that was as soon as they realized that they weren't the only reason she'd stayed instead of running back to New York.

All that time as her relationship with Killian progressed, she hadn't noticed their disappointment in the fact that it was growing and deepening rather than fading, a one time thing – because that was what she had seen on their faces in the diner, and it had shattered her.

She burrowed closer to Killian as he held her, his face serene and relaxed in sleep. She was thankful for that, knowing that some nights his old demons haunted him more deeply than others. It warmed her heart to know that those nights were becoming farther and fewer between. She didn't want to leave him when the sun came up, would miss the strength of his arms around her, the confidence that came so easily when he was at her side, but she knew she had to talk to her parents.

She knew what she had seen, but she had to hear it from them.

* ~ * ~ *

David's face moved quickly between his easy, morning smile to surprise as the door opened, then more slowly to the grim look of resolve. For a second, Emma couldn't figure out why she'd surprised him, and then she realized it was because she'd knocked. The realization left a small ache in her chest, the significance not lost on either of them. Though she'd been spending most nights at Granny's, up until last night, this had still felt like home.

“Who is it, David?”

She heard Mary Margaret's voice chime from the other side of the loft, the soft tapping of her shoes drawing closer.

“It's Emma,” he muttered, opening the door fully and waving her inside, his movements stilted.

Mary Margaret was smiling when she finally popped into view, but Emma could see the anxiety flickering in her eyes as she stepped through the door and closed it behind her, facing the both of them with more than a hint of discomfort in her stance.

“Henry didn't stop in, did he?”

He'd been staying most nights with Regina and Robin, enjoying spending time with Roland, but sometimes he would still swing by the loft in the mornings to meet her before they went to Granny's together for hot cocoa.

“He did, but we mentioned you weren't here and he said he'd wait for you at Granny's,” her mother said. “Did you want to head over – ”

“No,” Emma rushed, cutting her off and interrupting the motion Mary Margaret was making toward the door, her hand falling back to her side. “I need to talk with the both of you, about last night.”

“Emma, if this is about Hook – ”

“It's not...well, not directly. It's about me.”

Emma watched them uncomfortably, suddenly unsure of how to begin now that she was actually standing in front of them, David with his questioning eyes, and Mary Margaret with her hands twisted together in front of her waist. She was supposed to be able to do this. She'd broken a curse, fought a dragon, stood up to Cora, and fought to bring down Zelena. She was the Savior, she was supposed to be able to do everything, including confront her parents.

A longing to have her pirate standing beside her hit, his hand resting gently on her shoulder for support, but even though she knew she needed to do this alone, the brief flash of him in her mind was enough to spur her on.

He was worth fighting for.

“I saw the way you looked at us last night,” she began, the hurt obvious in her voice, no matter how steady she tried to make it. “When I touched his hand, I looked across at you, and you guys couldn't stand to see it.”

“Emma, you have to understand, we appreciate everything Hook did to help you get back home to us. We see that he's changed, please don't think we're blind to that,” Mary Margaret sighed, her eyebrows knit with concern.

“But you still don't think he's worthy of your respect, your trust...that he's worthy of me?”

“We do respect him, Emma, we really do,” David interjected, scratching the top of his head as he met Mary Margaret's eye, “but you have to understand, we never wanted someone like him for you.”

“Someone like him?” Her voice crept up in volume, ringing with disbelief.

“You deserve better.”

“Better than someone who has come to my rescue time and time again? Better than someone who gave up his actual home for a chance – no, less than a chance even – that he might be able to save me, to save all of you? Someone better than that?”

“You're forgetting all of the other things he's done, Emma – his past. We wanted something different for you, someone like your father, Not a – ”

“Not a pirate,” David snapped, unable to keep the vitriol from his tone.

“How dare you!” There was a venomous edge to her voice now, low and quiet. “How dare you think you have any right to an opinion on this. Are you kidding me? You dropped into a magic tree – and I get it, I understand that you had to, and that it broke your hearts, but now you need to understand something...”

She paused, taking a breath as she tried to loosen the tight fists she'd balled her hands into “All of those hopes and dreams you guys had for me, the things you envisioned shaping me into the woman you wanted me to be, they didn't go through the wardrobe. It was just me, all by myself. Whatever plans you've made for my future, they're for a person who doesn't exist. They're for the daughter you wanted, not the one you've got.”

“But the daughter you've got,” she continued, “she's pretty damn happy as she is. I didn't grow up in some fairy tale. I grew up in the real world. I was abandoned, betrayed, disappointed and left behind my entire life. I've got more bruises, and scars, and flaws than most people, but because of Killian, I've learned to accept them and move on, because all of them together put me right where I am today. You might not like the rough, gritty parts of him, his past, the hook, but I do. I love every part of him, and I will not sit here and let you treat this like I'm settling, because he is everything I need, and everything I want.”

She found herself nearly breathless after her rant, fists shaking at her sides as she stared at her parents wide-eyed in front of her. She had hoped the weight on her chest would lighten once she put everything she felt out into the open, but instead she was faced with a lingering tightness that wouldn't budge, suddenly aware that they may have considered all of those things and still disapproved.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret sighed, locking eyes with David before reaching forward and taking her daughter's clenched fists in her hands. “You may have grown up here, but you were born in the Enchanted Forest, a princess and the product of true love. If you're destined to have a True Love of your own, then surely it's not someone – ”

Emma didn't give her a chance to finish her sentence, tearing her hands free and throwing the door open, the heavy wood bouncing off the wall as she stormed out without a backward glance. The resounding thump of the door falling back into place and closing behind her somehow trickled through the roar of anger thumping in her ears and she paused, pressing her forehead and hands against the cool wall down the hallway.

“You alright there, love?”

The rage she'd been feeling slipped away from her at the sound of his voice, her legs suddenly shaking and less steady than they should have been for someone who was stone cold sober. Thankfully, he was at her side the minute she turned from the wall that had been lending her a little support, his arms catching her as they sunk to the floor together, his leather jacket splayed across the rug as he knelt, arms circling around her as she tucked her head into his chest and closed her eyes.

Her heart ached in a way she hadn't expected to feel again, in the same way it had when the cop told her to turn around and she'd realized someone she'd counted on had let her down.

It ached until he whispered against her hair, soothing noises and assurances that everything would be well, the timbre of his voice bringing her peace.

“What are you doing here?” Emma whispered, wondering how he'd known to look for her at her parent's loft, and suddenly very glad they hadn't decided to follow her into the hallway. She had no idea how she'd react seeing them again so soon after what Mary Margaret had just been about to say. She needed time, and they probably did as well.

“I will admit I was adrift when I woke without you this morning, Swan,” he confided, placing another soft kiss to her hair, “but I thought perhaps you'd been craving some of that chocolate concoction you like, so I went to Granny's, wondering if that's where you'd run off to.”

“It's called hot chocolate. Did you see Henry there?”

“Aye, the lad was showing me something in a book about the stars that Belle had given him. He thought perhaps you'd gone to see if he was at the loft.”

Emma sat up quickly, leaning out of Killian's lap so she could search the stairwell below, her chest tightening painfully at the thought of Henry overhearing what had gone on with her parents.

“He's not here, Swan. I had a feeling there was something that needed addressing between you and your parents after last night.”

“How did you know?”

“I'm a pirate, love. We've a keen sense for danger – a word that would fairly describe your temperament a moment ago.”

“Where is he?”

“Ah, I sent him over to our room to retrieve the sextant I'd told him about the other day. I thought it would be useful for him to see how it works for the paper he's writing.”

“That's good,” she murmured, settling back into his lap. “I wouldn't him have wanted him to hear me that upset with his grandparents.”

“Aye, angry is what you were a moment ago, but how do you feel now, Swan?”

“Blood spectacular,” she laughed, snuffing her nose that she hadn't realized was now stuffy, her eyes burning slightly at the tears she wouldn't shed.

She felt the absence of Killian's arm around her as he reached up and scratched behind his ear, a nervous habit she thought was pretty cute.

“Well, in that case, what do you say to a change of scenery, a leisurely stroll, perhaps?”

“Your legs are numb, aren't they?”

“Aye.”

* ~ * ~ *

Days had passed since Emma confronted her parents, and still she hadn't asked him the question he'd been dreading. He had expected it right away, and she'd surprised him by not seeming the concerned in the least that may have overheard her conversation. His Swan, still managing to surprise him even after how much they'd learned of one another. Perhaps now that they'd grown closer than he had ever hoped was possible, she had no words left to hide from him.

They spent those days enjoying the company of one another and the continued absence of any threats to the town. Walks with Henry to the dock were frequent. The lad had developed a true curiosity about everything to do with the sea, and though he no longer had the Jolly with which to entertain the boy, he never regretted it – though Emma often gripped his hand more tightly whenever they passed by the spot where she had once anchored so long ago.

She'd asked him only once if he regretted it, and he'd been able to look her in the eye and speak honestly.

Never, not for a second, Emma.

Hours spent twisted among his sheets were also frequent, his fingers never tiring of their play across her body, but his Swan was quite perceptive, and he knew she felt the subtle change in his demeanor that had plagued him ever since that morning at her parent's loft.

When it had lingered for more than a week – his breath hitching in his throat as he watched her fall asleep, thinking she was too far gone to notice, she finally asked him.

“Killian, will you please tell me?”

A part of him wanted to sweep her into his arms, fingers threading through her hair as he grinned, disarming her with some witty banter about how the only thing bothering him was her state of dress, mainly that the shirt she'd donned was too much, but the smile wouldn't come to his lips, and he had no desire in his heart to lie to her.

“Your mother, Emma...what she said. Surely it's the truth.”

She stiffened against him and pulled away, the immediate distance she's placed between them striking his chest with both fear and pain, though it was the reflection of both in her eyes that injured him most. His words had hurt her, but neither could he lie. She would know, and it would pain her just the same.

“What do you mean?”

“She told you no untruths, love. You were born a princess in the Enchanted Forest, the daughter of heroes and a Savior in your own right – someone destined to have a true happy ending.”

“What I was supposed to be doesn't mean anything, you and I both know that, Killian.”

“But what if she's right?” he nearly whispered, dread thick on his tongue as his sea-blue eyes bored into her own. “What if it means everything? What if there is true love waiting for you, a man destined for you – a man who never killed because he could, nor lived solely for vengeance until it blackened his heart?”

“I believe that, Killian – ”

Her words were a frigid wave of his deepest fears washing over him, the doubts he was voicing suddenly far more substantial than when they'd haunted his dreams.

“ – a part of it, that is,” she continued, sliding closer in his bed and running her fingers through his inky, dark locks. “I believe I have a true love. The only difference, you idiot, is that I know I've already found him, so don't do this to me. Don't doubt me now when you never have before. After all the chasing, just because I finally stopped running doesn't mean it's your turn.”

The tips of her fingers stroked through his hair, returning softly along his jaw and cupping his face. He reached out for her then, twirling a strand of her golden hair around his finger, his heart leaping as he took in every curve and peak of her face as she smiled. He wanted to have her faith, to believe as she did that he could be her everything – because was certainly everything to him.

Slipping easily onto his lap, the sheets pooling around their waists, she rested her forehead against his, moving to wind her fingers in his own, her other hand firmly grasping his stump, loving every part of him. His heart ached with how much he loved her in return.

“What do you say, Killian. Can you take that leap of faith with me, that no matter what, from here on out it will always be us?”

And because she asked and he trusted her implicitly, believed her in the very core of his being, he could. His lips crashed against hers, rocking them both back onto the bed as they shared each breath, passion and love and a feeling of rightness brightening each move they made. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing to vanish any breath of space between them. Possessiveness and need slowly rolled into the slow rise of tenderness and longing, their bodies moving and melding seamlessly as they poured their commitment into each shuddering breath. When they finally broke apart, their heated bodies resting atop the sheets, he knew in his heart how true her words had been, because he could never leave this miraculous woman who'd brightened his life, who'd chosen to be his. He loved her too greatly, too deeply, and every day till his very last he would choose her.

“It will always be you,” he whispered against her neck, clinging to her as if she was the only thing keeping him afloat in an endless sea, and perhaps she was. “Always, Emma.”

Tagging: @justanother-unluckysoul @kmom0f4 @the-darkdragonfly @teamhook @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight @tiganasummertree @pirateprincessofpizza @lfh1226-linda @alexa-fangirl-forever @alifeofdreams @superchocovian @donteattheappleshook @hollyethecurious @caught-in-the-filter @snowbellewells 

[seriouslyhooked]

The Bast Bad Idea (Part 2)

Three-part CS AU where Emma and Killian are doctors working at the same hospital (world without pandemic). They’ve yet to meet, but Emma has definitely seen the sexy Dr. Jones in her travels at Mist Haven Medical. It’s generally a bad idea to get involved with a colleague, but a little fantasizing never hurt… right? Inspired by the song ‘Bad Idea’ by Ariana Grande and a TV couple who set the bar for true love stories.

Part One Here. Story available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hello everyone! First and foremost, I want to start with a huge thank you to all of you who have reached out about this story. The response was so far beyond what I was expecting, but I am thrilled to know that all of you enjoy a CS Doctor AU as much as I do. As someone who grew up watching Grey’s Anatomy, it’s essentially engrained in my DNA to love a medical romance, and this story is one I have wanted to write for a long time. I’ve had more than a month away from writing thanks to my busy schedule, but finally my muse came to play and add a bit of fluff to this sweet short story. Chapter two picks up with a critical question – what was Dr. Jones going to propose to Dr. Swan…? Without further ado, here is our answer. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

“This might be presumptuous of me, love, but I find I’m helpless to resist. I was wondering – that is, I was hoping that perhaps, you and I, we could…”

His eyes strayed down to her lips, and Emma wet them absentmindedly. She heard a low growl, and realized it was coming from Killian. She shifted in her seat, turned on in a way she had never been before. Instinctively she moved closer, sensing the sinfully sweet current between them, like lightning just before it cracked across a summer sky. The instant attraction was breathtaking. It felt almost out of time and space.

“We could…” she continued, nudging him along and hoping he would elaborate. She wanted so badly for him to say aloud what she herself was wishing for.

Yet where Emma expected words, she was instead met with action, tantalizing and surprising, but inspiring something in her she never expected. Before she knew it, Emma was in Killian’s arms, aching for this moment, kissing him and knowing she was positively senseless. All that existed was this kiss, this touch. It was electrifying and invigorating, a blaze rushing through her blood stream that emboldened a part of her she’d always held back. Desire. That was what this was, and it was luscious and intoxicating.

Following his lead, Emma broke away from the kiss only to gasp for air as he crowded her body against the wall. The hardness of the cement blocks behind her, coupled with the heat and definition of Dr. Killian Jones was too much to handle. She arched into him, striving for contact, and reveling in the feel of his skin on hers. The only problem was these damn clothes between them. Never in her life had she been irritated at this doctor’s coat she’d worked so hard to earn. For years she studied and poured everything she was into medicine, all for the authority this coat portrayed, but she practically purred when Killian stripped hers off and tossed it to the ground. Pushing his off of his body in return made her mind race. The muscles of his chest and arms were driving her to distraction. Then they flexed, and she swallowed harshly, earning a deep, decadent chuckle from this man who drove her crazy.

“See something you like, Swan?”

God that cockiness. They’d never had any kind of real conversation before now, but the way he smiled spoke volumes. His air and his persona were dripping in assuredness. Emma used to think that she hated so much confidence, but when it came to Killian, she craved it something fierce. It was somewhat infuriating, the way his eyes shone with mischief and conceit, but it was also hotter than anything she’d ever known. Still, part of her would rather die than admit that aloud. She had her pride, no matter how wrapped up in this moment she may be.

“It’s hard to say,” she replied, her voice sounding out with a shredded silkiness that she’d never heard before. “I haven’t seen much of anything yet.”

“My apologies, love. Allow me to rectify the situation.”

Emma watched as this ridiculously attractive man purposefully teased her. With deft fingers he reached for the base of his scrub top, inching the material higher up his body. The trail of dark hair he revealed was evocative, but it held no candle the shape and tone of those abs underneath. Sweet Jesus, were those real? Emma bit back a groan at the sight, her lip pressed tight between her teeth. It took everything in her to keep her hands from reaching for him. She lay them flat on the wall behind her at her sides instead, but they balled into fists unconsciously as Killian eventually tossed the shirt away.

His black hair was mussed now, both from removing the scrubs with that always-present swagger, and from her fingers having run through it during their never-ending kisses. His eyes were dark navy blue, but still they shone with hunger and delight. His grin was a mix of charming and predatory, but instead of inciting a fight or flight response, Emma only wanted to surrender. This was a man who knew he was in complete control. He had hooked her, totally and beyond any shadow of doubt, and all she wanted was for him to have his way with her.

The curses he whispered while helping her shed her own scrubs were like prayers on high, a sweet song to her ears that only added to his allure. Killian’s eyes never strayed from her, but his reactions were so open and transparent. He hid nothing, allowing her a glimpse to the world inside, and it caused the power between them to shift. If Emma was being hunted, then she was also hunting in return, and Killian seemed ready to be caught.

“Emma, I -,”

His voice faded out, and she struggled to hear him. Instead, there was a blaring alarm. Was this a fire drill? Why had the light in the room gone hazy? Still, Emma heard herself whisper his name.

“Killian?”

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The screech of the sharp, incessant chiming by her ears wrenched Emma’s eyes open, and immediately she groaned in disappointment. All of that – every exquisite moment – was a dream. Ugh, of course it was! Because this was her life now: fantasizing about a hot trauma surgeon ceaselessly and wishing that her memories of him were more than mere imagination.  

“Damn it,” she muttered aloud, covering her eyes with her hand in frustration. With her vision blocked, Emma was more aware of the feeling that her body was wrapped up in her sheets. She’d obviously been tossing and turning through the night, restless in ways she rarely was before seeing Doctor Jones. These freaking dreams just felt so real, and they’d only gotten worse since officially meeting him.

That was three days ago now, but things had been chaotic in the meantime. The level four trauma that came in when they’d been formally introduced totally swamped the ER. Emma was called down for consult on multiple patients, needing to give life and death assessments and treatment plans for half a dozen people. While down there, Emma had the chance to see David and Killian in action. She was struck, even in the grips of adrenaline, by their cohesion and capability. They were cool and collected, battling odds that were dire to say the least, but they prevailed. Emma had worked for years to hone her craft, to heighten her skills, and to meet the moments of medicine that her work provided. But the energy in the ER had shifted, and she felt her own abilities elevated by the camaraderie and collectiveness of everyone in the hospital.

That shared experience only lasted a short while, for after initial inspections and emergency consults, Emma was quickly rerouted to the surgical wing. For 16 hours straight she worked to save the lives of four people, and through something that felt like magic, or maybe divine intervention, she was successful each and every time. That good fortune held, not only for her, but for all of her colleagues as well. The hospital had managed something next to impossible – they had saved every victim of the horrible accident, but the work had been backbreaking. When she’d finally scrubbed out of her last procedure, Emma admitted defeat, heading home and sleeping for twelve straight hours.

Her next shift was markedly slower, and Emma had the chance to see the progress of her post-op patients, and to connect with the others in her unit. It was critically important that the doctors, nurses, admins, tech teams, and other staff were all feeling strong and secure. Patients needed everyone working as a collective whole, and Emma took it upon herself to monitor that. It was unusual for a Doctor, especially one who wasn’t overseeing daily operations, but it mattered to Emma. Saving lives took so much more than her medical degree and steady hands. She needed each and every person in the cardiac wing to be successful, and she valued every one of them for what they brought to the team.

Unfortunately, while Emma’s day was slower and steadier, there was also a favorite element now lacking. She wasn’t too proud to admit that she’d willingly joined Ruby on the daily trip to the coffee cart. Actually, she’d been the one to page Ruby this time, earning more than a bit of teasing from her best friend, but Killian and David never showed. Only later, when Emma was at the tail end of her workday and helping with a consult in the ER, did she learn why.

“He was here for sixty-eight straight hours,” David said bluntly, after having confirmed his diagnosis for a patient presenting with a blood circulation issue.

“I’m sorry?” Emma asked, confused for a moment at David’s turn of topic.

“Killian,” David said, prompting Emma’s face to heat. Here she was, hoping it wasn’t totally obvious that she was looking for a man she hardly knew beyond imaginings, but David had seen through her in a matter of moments.

“Oh, um – that’s, well that’s… crazy. Sixty-eight hours?” That beat even her record, and she’d been called a workaholic on more than one occasion.

“Mhmm. We were on the end of a twelve-hour shift when the call came in and he stayed, until every last patient in the trauma department was seen and attended to. I left for eight hours and was dead to the world the entire time. Still felt laggy when coming back. Meanwhile, he caught maybe four hours sleep total interspersed between rounds, crashing in on call rooms. You’d never know though. He was totally unfazed. Brilliant as ever. It was like being back in the field again.”

“Seriously?” Emma asked, amazed at that. She was no stranger to long shifts, but to work that hard for that long was a herculean feat. Somehow, though, she wasn’t surprised to hear Killian had pulled it off.

“Yup. I had to force him to go back to his hotel. Actually, Regina had to. I tried, but until the Chief said something, he wouldn’t budge. She had to spew all sorts of protocol and legal jargon at him to get him to go. Even then, I could tell he was debating whether to stay or not.”

“He has a real connection with his patients,” Emma commented, vocalizing a fact she’d ascertained by watching him in action. Killian cared deeply, and while his main job may be all about stemming the flow of crisis, and bouncing around from one case to the next just to keep people holding on, he kept track of all those he helped, and invested in each patient no matter what.

“Maybe. I think it had more to do with the fact that it was only eight am and you wouldn’t be at the coffee stand yet.”

Before Emma could respond, David was paged for something else. He’d left her with a polite goodbye, but also a knowing smile. Another time, Emma might have tried to fake that she wasn’t interested or deny that there was something between her and Killian, but instead she was too busy fixating on what she’d just heard. Emma carried David’s assessment around with her for the rest of the day, well after leaving the hospital and heading home. She spent the night wondering if what David said was true. Was Killian as interested in her as she was in him?

“This might be presumptuous of me, love, but I find I’m helpless to resist. I was wondering – that is, I was hoping that perhaps, you and I, we could…”

“We could what?” she whispered, getting out of her car, heading inside to her next shift. “What was he going to ask me?”

“Did you say something, Emma?”

Emma jumped at the unexpected question, senses on high alert as she stood before the elevator in the parking garage. When she found Mary Margaret only a few feet from her, and clearly the orator of the previous question, Emma relaxed slightly. She tried her best not to show her embarrassment, but it was difficult. Now she was talking to herself? Jeez, she was truly losing it at this point.

“Oh, uh, nothing. How are you today?” she asked her friend. Mary Margaret smiled widely. Her excitement was palpable, filling up the elevator car as the two of them stepped inside.

“I’m great! Just eager to get to work.”

“Any interesting cases on the schedule?”

“Oh, uh, sure, there’s a few, I guess. Well really most of my day is going to be in consult with the Chief’s office.”

“Wait a second, you have to spend a prolonged period of time with the Evil Queen and you are smiling? Who are you and what have you done with Mary Margaret?” Her friend now looked flustered, clearly trying to grasp at an explanation and then it dawned on Emma. “This is about David isn’t it?”

“David?” Mary Margaret asked, her pitch higher than it had been just moments ago. Emma laughed at her friend’s terrible play acting. Trying to pretend that this wasn’t about David Nolan was a lost cause. Eventually Mary Margaret realized that, and she sighed, releasing the tension in her shoulders as she exhaled. “Okay, yes, I am seeing Dr. Nolan today.”

“Let me guess, he’s also going to be at the admin meetings.”

“They’re about coordinating long term therapies better with our emergency protocols and treatments. So yes, the head of the ER is likely to make an appearance.”

“I see,” Emma said, biting back a smirk so as not to make Mary Margaret too uncomfortable. In the end though her curiosity won out, and she had to ask. “So, any movement there?”

“Movement?”

“Has he asked you out yet?”

“Not exactly.” Emma waited for her friend to explain herself. Mary Margaret held off for a few seconds before blurting out the truth. “I actually asked him.”

“Really?” Emma was shocked. Not because she thought any less of Mary Margaret. In fact, quite the opposite. She was proud of Mary Margaret for going for what she wanted. She just had never ever seen Mary Margaret step outside of a comfort zone like that, and certainly not with a hospital colleague. “Good for you. And he obviously said yes.”

“Why is it obvious?” Emma rolled her eyes, but in a teasing way.

“Come on, you know you two were making heart eyes at each other the other day. There was a definite spark. We all saw it.”

“I’m honestly surprised you noticed since you had your own, what did you just call them? ‘Heart eyes’? Well, you definitely had heart eyes for a certain trauma surgeon.”

Now it was Emma’s turn to blush, and what perfect timing, because the elevator doors had just opened to the lobby. They exited the quiet of the elevator to a hustle and bustle found only at a top tier hospital. It felt like a swarm of people, buzzing every which way, on their own individual paths.

“David and I going to dinner tomorrow,” Mary Margaret said quietly, looking around and finding no eavesdropping colleagues. When the coast was clear, she smiled, looking back at Emma with excitement all over her face. “That’s all I know though. I may have asked him out, but he made it very clear he had plans for how our first date was going to be.”

“I have a good feeling about this guy,” Emma said, referring to David. She had known Mary Margaret for a long time, and she knew how much her friend wished for a real and solid love in her life. Few people desired and deserved that kind of connection like Mary Margaret, and for Emma, there was a real satisfaction in seeing her friend’s instant connection with a stand-up man. Based on past experience, there weren’t too many of those to go around.

“Which one?” Mary Margaret asked. Emma stammered something non-committal out, causing her friend to laugh once more. “And that right there is all the answer I need. See you later, Emma. Oh, and when you see Killian again, just go for it. Believe me, it’s so much better than waiting and wondering.”

With that, Mary Margaret headed towards the wing of the hospital where the Chief and her admins worked. At the same time, Emma turned her attention to the cardiac unit.  She had a ways to go to get there, but while still in the main entrance of the hospital she was stopped short by a gruff, and somewhat uncertain voice.

“Excuse me, Doctor Swan?”

“Yes?” Emma replied, looking to the young man who approached her. Taking in his features, she realized she knew him peripherally. He was one of the new interns cycling through the hospital this year, but he hadn’t worked in the cardio wing or in a surgical capacity. Taking in his lanyard, which bore his ID card over plain clothes, she saw he was an ER intern. Interesting. “Can I help you?”

“This is for you.” The young man offered her a paper box. Emma accepted, thoroughly confused before the intern elaborated. “Curtesy of Doctor Jones.”

“Oh,” Emma said, suddenly incredibly interested. Unable to resist, she opened the box. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but what she found made her smile widely. “These are flowers. Paper flowers.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m not entirely sure of the significance, but Doctor Jones told me there is a note inside as well. He wanted me to be sure to mention that.”

Emma was more than excited to read what this astonishing man would write to her, but something the intern said reminded her of the awkwardness of this situation. Had Killian used his authority over the interns to have this delivered? It wasn’t a crazy assumption. Many of the residents and attendings here saw interns as the low rungs on the ladder. They were meant to be learning and training, but often they were sent on coffee runs and foolish errands. Emma never believed in that though. She found it unkind and unnecessary.

“To be honest, it was hard to convince Doctor Jones to let me bring these,” the intern said, perplexing Emma further while eerily reading her mind. “I had to offer about a half dozen times. My shift was ending, you see, and I’ve been looking for a way to thank Doctor Jones since he got here. You know he created extra hours in the ER skills lab? He’s working with first years too. We get very little access usually, because the third years are prepping for exams and stuff, but he convinced Doctor Nolan to extend the hours. He’s even hosting classes himself. Cool right?”

“Very cool,” Emma said with a nod, and another smile. She breathed out a sigh of relief, genuinely happy to realize this man she’d been thinking of was good to others. It also made accepting this thoughtful gift so much easier.

From there, Caleb said goodbye, heading out for whatever interns did with down time these days. Oh, who was she kidding? Sleeping. That’s what she’d done, and no doubt that was what all interns still wanted most of all. Emma though, felt more awake now than she had in a long while. She found a quiet corner in one of the corridors leading to the cardio unit and took a seat, opening the box away from prying eyes.

Inside the box there were six different types of what looked like origami flowers. They were beautiful and delicate, and she wondered where he could have bought them. Only when she opened the note did she realize the truth.

Emma,

As you know, I’ve been away for quite a while, out in the field in a completely different world. In the desert there’s not really that much to do, except survive and keep as many of your people as well as you can. The downtime is long and hot and quiet. I picked up these tricks from a fellow soldier. It kept my hands at the ready and my mind clear, and there’s an honest beauty in them that reminds me of you. 

Truth be told, there’s a flower for each time I’ve tried to catch you at the coffee cart since our meeting. Clearly my missions have been unsuccessful, so this calls for a change in tactics…

Emma smiled at the thoughtfulness and felt the pull of butterflies low in her chest.  He thought she was beautiful, and he said it without fear. Had a man ever said so much? Had it ever mattered? Certainly not like it did now. Reading on, Emma laughed at the lightheartedness of the note and the bit of cheeky humor that accompanied it. His easygoing candor and transparency enchanted her, drawing her in even more than she already was. Then she memorized the time and place he suggested that they meet at the bottom of the page, knowing nothing and no one was going to keep her from this meeting.

Only after reading through his handwritten thoughts three or four times did she realize an added layer of perfection: these flowers weren’t just handmade and crafted with intention. They were also safe for her to take with her to her ward of the hospital. Being in and out of the ICU and cardiac units, Emma couldn’t bring real flowers into her offices without putting some patients at risk, but she could have these. From within the box she selected a bright yellow blossom, beautiful and intricate and folded to perfection. Wordlessly she tucked it away in her pocket. The others were deposited for safe keeping in her office as soon as she arrived back in the East Wing, and displayed on her windowsill, brightening the space.

The hours between the start of her shift and the time she was meant to meet Killian passed by slowly. Her rounds usually distracted her, but not today. While she still gave all due attention to her patients, Emma had that sense in the back of her mind that this afternoon would bring so much more to the forefront. The promise of seeing him again kept her heart pattering faster than it should be, and by the time the clock was minutes from their meeting, she was positively bursting with anticipation.

“Okay, usually I would give you a hard time and pretend to tag along, but even I can’t mess with a smile like that.” Ruby’s words snapped Emma’s focus back to the hallway where she was standing, pretending to read a chart. As she looked to her friend, however, she would never be able to recall what was on the screen in front of her. Ruby grinned when their eyes met. “He gave you the flowers, didn’t he?”

“You knew?” Emma asked and Ruby nodded.

“Yup. Ran into him at the cart a couple of times. He was really starting to piss off the kiosk guy with all his loitering. Had to give him a hundred dollars just to shut him up.”

“He didn’t!”

“No, I wouldn’t let him. I told Boris to shut it unless he wanted a hospital wide nurses strike. Guy knows better than to cross me. He just acts tough for clout.” Emma laughed, knowing her friend truly ran this place in most ways. But then the apprehension of the moment caught up to her again, and Emma’s brow furrowed in worry. “Oh no you don’t. No doubting this, Ems. I’ve vetted this guy. Run all the background, checked all the sources. He’s a good one, a one in a million, needle in a haystack, diamond in the rough kind of man. And, to top it all off, he’s crazy about you.”

“You think?” Emma asked and Ruby nodded.

“I know, but that’s all I’m saying. Let Killian speak for himself, okay? And, even though it’s hard, try and trust this.”

“I think I already do,” Emma whispered. “Trust him, I mean. But that’s crazy, right?”

“Love tends to be that way.”

“Ruby.”

“Emma,” her friend parroted, taking her hand and squeezing gently. “Just go for it. Go for it and see for yourself.”

With a nod, and the validation that she needed to hear from a trusted friend, Emma headed off. It felt natural and expected to make her way towards the center of the hospital once more. This time though, she passed the coffee cart, with only a fleeting glance. Killian wasn’t meeting her there today. In fact, she wasn’t entirely sure where they were meeting. She followed the directions he’d given her, up a few more flights of stairs and through the wing with pediatric patients and newborns. She had been here many times before, for consults and comfort. It was a draw here in the hospital – the cuteness of babies just starting their journeys in the new world. Emma looked at them today, noticing the vibrancy inside the nursery, but didn’t linger. Instead, she followed the last of the route that Killian had given her and ended up somewhere she’d never been before. A place that must have just finished being renovated.

“Wow,” Emma whispered, walking into the sunlight on the open terrace.

With the glass surroundings and the plant life everywhere, this place was beautiful. There were pergolas and hanging vines, topiaries and flowering plants, daffodils and tulips, all breathing in the spring. It felt like a park, floating in the air, with the sounds of the city barely audible below. Emma could imagine the kids and the families who would come here someday. She hoped it would be a space for them to find some peace and happiness while staying in this unfamiliar and often stressful place. Hospitals were rarely any fun for patients, necessary as they may be, but this space was beautiful enough to distract from that.

“You made it, love.” The deep rumble of that familiar voice sent a shiver through Emma’s whole body. She cast a glance over her shoulder, finding Killian, leaning against the stone façade of the building behind them. In his hands were two coffees, and as he moved towards her, he offered her one with a boyish smile. “This is for you. Didn’t want you missing a routine caffeine fix for my sake.”

“Thank you,” Emma said automatically, feeling his fingers brush across hers, sending a zing of awareness through her. Her eyes flashed up to his, and she knew he felt it too. Suddenly she had no want or need for this coffee. She cleared her throat slightly before continuing on. “Where exactly are we? And how, might I ask, does the new guy know about it before I do?”

“It’s the Hubbard Family Wellness Gardens, gifted by one of the hospital’s most loyal benefactors” he said, full of knowledge. Emma was shocked that he actually knew what this place would be but then he smiled, gesturing to the plaque bearing that information. She bit back a laugh. “And as for how I found it, that’s easy. I never leave well enough alone, and I’m curious by nature. I’ve been nearly everywhere in the hospital now, but this place seemed the best for what comes next.”

“What comes next?” Emma asked, her voice hitching up as she repeated the words.

“Aye,” Killian murmured, his tone dipping sensually low. She swallowed harshly as he entered into her space, and he tracked the motion. She felt the heat of his closeness, and caught his scent in the air, clean, and male, and with a hint of spice.

“I’m afraid I didn’t think this through,” he said, close enough to kiss her. God, how she wished he would kiss her. Emma vocalized her first thought.

“Really? I did. Like a lot.”

His smirk told her she’d said that aloud even though she never meant to, but before she could react, he took hold of her cup once more.

“I meant these,” he gestured to the coffee in her hand. Oh, right. “May I, love?”

Emma nodded, and shakily let go of the cup she forgot she was holding. With deft hands, Killian  placed their drinks back on a table beside them with far more poise than she could muster at the moment. When that was done, he stepped towards her again, looking at her with a glint in his blue eyes that made her heart skip. His hands came to her body, one to her hip, the other to cup her cheek. The rightness washed over her, and so did the realization that none of her dreams could actually prepare her for real intimacy with Killian Jones.

“Last time we spoke I intended to ask you something. Do you remember?”

“Yes, I remember,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from wanting this so badly. Without thinking, she wet her lips, and he caught the action, letting out a groan that mixed pain with passion and pleasure. Then he cursed, a totally British ‘bloody hell’ falling past his lips before dipping his mouth to hers and giving them both a taste of temptation.

The kiss was… beyond incredible, but Emma was so deep in it she had no ability to comprehend anything at all. She was consumed with the moment, arching against Killian, feeling the silky strands of his dark hair and the scruff of his beard. His kiss was assured and passionate, dominant and indulgent all at once. She succumbed to the sensations, and let the rightness surge within her, not caring at all that they were outside or at work or that they’d just met. Instinct took over, and her gut, which Emma had always trusted, was telling her that this man was even more than she imagined, and someone she should choose to let in.

Pulling back from the kiss, Emma and Killian stayed close, and Emma took stock of all the places they were touching. His hold on her was firm but caring, like she was precious, and he wouldn’t let her slip away. In his eyes she saw so much emotion, and again she was struck by his transparency and trust. He wasn’t shying away from her or the moment. He was in the depths of desire with her, and their kiss, that perfect, sexy as all hell kiss, had left him tongue tied. The quiet wasn’t awkward, but assuring, and Emma felt secure here, safe even, while also being filled with more unknown wonder than she’d ever been before. Like someone at the start of a glorious adventure, she took a next step born of passion and hope.

“I’m off at six tonight… so, you want to pick me up at seven thirty?” she asked, referencing a date he hadn’t actually asked her out on. She feigned ignorance even though she could read him like a book. “Unless you were going to ask me something else…”

His hold on her tightened, and he shook his head immediately. She was right. He wanted a date – and she saw no reason to wait when she wanted one just as badly. She grinned at him, loving how the tables had turned. This time he swallowed harshly, and she was oh so tempted to kiss him again and see if he’d stay shy or rise to her challenge.

“It’s a date, Swan,” he said dazedly. 

Emma hummed out her agreement, going in for one last fleeting kiss. But where she meant to only tease, he took the reins again, kissing her senseless and leaving her breathless when they finally broke apart. Only when her pager beeped with an incoming call did they end their inevitable interlude, and as they did, Emma felt a pang of longing, wishing this moment could last so much longer than this.

“Tonight, love,” he whispered, running his thumb against her lips. “Far away as it may seem, I promise the wait will be worth it.”

“Good,” she replied, nipping his thumb ever so softly, and bringing the fire back in his eyes, before taking a step back. And with that, and just enough presence of mind to grab her coffee, Emma headed off, back through the hospital to the work that awaited her, knowing she could and would get through anything today for the promise of tonight.

Post-Note: Ah!! Finally!! I got the words on the page!! I did the thing!! I wrote the story!! And honestly, it’s such a relief. It felt, at some points, like I may never get this chapter written, but finally today it came. I know many of you were waiting, and I cherished every comment and review and message along the way. I hope all of you who wrote me, and those who read along with chapter one, all enjoy this installation. I write these stories for me and to brighten my world ever so slightly, but also in the hopes that they’ll spark joy for others too. In a time like this, a little joy goes an awful long way. Anyway, thank you all for reading, sending you the best, and hope you’ll join me next time for the final chapter of this CS AU! xE

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

The Love Cruise - by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Read on AO3: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Or on FF

Tagging:   @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda

Chapter 6: Muscle Memory

Emma woke with a headache and a slew of questions from Ruby.

Why is there a painting in our room?

Who the hell is Walsh?

Just what are you doing all day when you disappear?

Emma just grumbled about rich stalkers and stumbled to the bathroom for a warm shower. As she stood under the hot water, she hoped the steam would blow it all away and make the annoyances of dealing with Walsh disappear.

Unfortunately, the painting staring back at her as she opened the bathroom door brought her back to the immediate reality that this man she barely knew, gave her a painting that he just bought for more money than she made in months because he thought she was beautiful.

His attention made her uncomfortable, it unsettled her. She wasn’t sure why he continued to pursue her, but she was going to make sure he understood that his gift was not appropriate.

Stepping out of her room, she ran into August who was limping along the hallway. “Need assistance?”

“Emma, you are a welcome sight.” He grinned and she stepped up beside him to offer her shoulder to lean on. “I’m on my way to the medical bay.”

She gave him a knowing glance and pursed her lips together. “Hmm, this seems to be happening often.”

“Hey, I’m an injured man.” He replied incredulously.

“With a very pretty and attentive nurse.”

“Is she pretty?” He said with a smirk, “I never noticed.”

“Mmhm, you know if you lie, it makes your nose grow.”

“That’s a child’s fairytale, you don’t scare me.” He teased, reaching up to tap his nose. “See, no change.”

They reached the medical wing and August’s face brightened when Tink walked up to them. “There’s my favorite patient.”

“Good morning, Ms. Bell, my friend Emma made sure I got here safely.”

“Hi Emma. Nice to see you again. Your friend is in good hands, I’ll make sure he gets back to his room safely, in case you have plans.”

“Oh yes, August definitely thinks that you take great care of him, I leave you in his charge.” She winked at August as she left the room.

She turned the corner and ran directly into a man in uniform. “Emma, what a pleasant surprise.” He looked in the direction she had come from, concern slipping onto his face. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh yeah, just dropping my friend August off for his daily flirting session.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Sorry, I think my friend has a crush on one of your nurses.”

“I suppose you know what the ship’s name stands for right? TLC, tender loving care. Seems only fair that he be taken care of properly.”

She laughed lightly. “Well, I think he’s a satisfied customer then.”

“Happy to hear that my crew is meeting expectation.” His gaze scanned her face, causing her body to heat up suddenly. “Well, I must continue on my duties. Captain’s job is never done.”

“Of course, you do have an important job here.” Disappointed to see him leaving, she started to walk away when she felt his hand on her elbow.

“I was wondering if you would be interested in joining me on the sky bridge this evening. I hear tonight will offer a beautifully clear night for star gazing, a favorite activity of mine while at sea.”

“Star gazing with the Captain, I don’t remember seeing that listed as an option on the excursion board.” She teased. “I’d be honored.” His mouth turned upward slightly, her heart pounding in her chest when his tongue darted out across his bottom lip.

“I’ll see you there, Miss Swan.”

Emma was in a haze the rest of the day, flitting about from activity to activity with anticipation. She couldn’t wait for the opportunity to get more alone time with Killian. Stargazing was lovely, but she wanted nothing more than to gaze into the galaxy held within his bright blue orbs.

Emma practically skipped to the dining room to meet her friends for dinner that evening, but as she rounded the corner, her eyes caught sight of the one man she wanted to avoid. Walsh.

He looked up and she knew he had noticed her approaching him, there was no avoiding this. She marched up to him and he immediately stopped her before she could speak.

“Emma, I do hope you liked my gift.”

“Actually, I was coming over here to tell you that I think it’s inappropriate to send me something that cost so much, considering we don’t even know each other.”

“Emma, it was not my intent to offend you. You liked the painting, and I wanted to get it for you.”

“Why? You don’t even know me.”

“But I wish to get to know you better. Can’t you allow me that much?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Besides, you knew I was with someone the night we first met.”

He looked around. “I haven’t seen him with you since. Seems if a man had such a beautiful woman on his arm, he would be foolish to leave her alone so often.”

“That is clearly none of your business.”

“Please, Emma, surely my gift has granted me some favor, perhaps you could join me for dinner.”

“I have plans.” She stated simply and turned to walk away. “I’ll make sure you get your painting back.” Without turning around, she made her way to her table.

“There she is.” David announced as she sat down. “We were wondering where you have been all day.”

“I helped gimpy down to the medical wing, took in some trivia, a couple other activities, and then I needed to take care of something.” She looked over at Ruby and Will who both knew about the painting.

“Bloody shame, you could sell that thing.” Will huffed.

“Sell what?”

“Emma’s has an admirer who gifted her a very expensive painting last night.”

“Oh, are you finally warming up to the idea of this cruise?” Her brother mused.

“Absolutely not, and I’m returning the painting, the guy creeps me out.”

“I apologize, should I leave?” Graham looked apprehensively at the table as he approached them at the end of Emma’s sentence.

“Sorry, I was talking about this rich guy that won’t leave me alone.”

Graham wiped his brow and took a seat beside Ruby. “Do you need me to have him arrested.” He grinned.

“I don’t think you have jurisdiction out here on the water, but that’s not necessary. He’s harmless, just determined.” She groaned.

“Well, if he doesn’t back off, the Captain of the ship can take care of issues like that, he has maritime jurisdiction.”

Emma’s head shot up at the mention of the Captain. “Seriously guys, I took care of it. I’m not a damsel in distress. I don’t need to run to the Captain just because some guy acts like a jerk.”

She would prefer to use the Captain for more erotic activities.

The subject was interrupted when dinner was served, and Emma welcomed the change of discussion to keep her mind from wandering into a place it didn’t belong before she met with Killian tonight.

“So, Emma, a bunch of us are going to the dance club tonight, want to join us?” Graham looked over at her and Emma smiled politely.

“What time are you guys heading over? I planned to go to the gym for a bit, but I can meet you guys there.”

“Why the bloody hell are you stepping foot in a gym while you’re on vacation?” Will argued. “You’re on a cruise ship, who works out on a bloody cruise ship?”

“A lot of people, William. It’s kind of nice, the view is amazing.”

“Suit yourself, I think you’re quite mad.”

Emma had no plans of meeting the group this evening. All through dinner the only thing on her mind was spending time alone with Captain Jones. While she found that she enjoyed his company, it was the butterflies amassing in her stomach that surprised her. She was both nervous and excited to get to spend more time talking to him. As much as she detested the premise of coming on a ship to hook up with eligible bachelors, she couldn’t deny her attraction to the devilishly handsome Captain. Nor did she want to. The anticipation of his body in close proximity to hers was enough to have her squirming under the table.

“Emma are you alright?” Emma jumped, banging her knee under the table.

“Sorry what?” She glanced up to see everyone staring at her.

“I asked what you were thinking of wearing tonight.” Ruby sat staring at her curiously while Emma stammered about needing to go through her closet to see what she had.

~*~

Killian was pacing on the bridge thinking about his upcoming evening with Emma Swan. He hadn’t been this delighted about being alone with a woman in years. Well, perhaps delighted but also anxious and positively full of nerves.

“Captain, I looked up the woman you wanted me to find, but there is no one on the ship by the name of Emma Swan.”

Killian stopped pacing. “Are you quite sure?”

“I had them check twice just in case. Anything else you need from me, Captain?”

“No, thank you for checking sir.” Killian dismissed the man and frowned. How did a woman he had physically spoken to, not exist on the ship?

He pulled the pocket watch from the chain on his hip, time seeming to slow to a stop the closer it got to meeting with Emma.

“Somewhere to be, Captain?” He looked up to see his First Mate approaching him. He nodded. “Captain, we have things handled here.”

“Thank you, Smee. Let me know if anything is needed.”

He excused himself from the bridge and returned to his quarters. He tried to calm his nerves as he stood on his balcony, watching the sun falling toward the choppy waters at the horizon. When the ball of fire finally dipped into the surface of its lover, he left his room to wait for Emma on the top deck.

As he approached, he realized he was not alone on the sky deck.

“Emma?”

She turned, her golden hair glowing in the moonlight.

“Hey, I uh, was hiding out so I thought I’d come up here a bit early.”

“And what, pray tell, would you be hiding from?

“Doesn’t matter.” She approached him, her eyes glimmering as she met his gaze. “I believe I was promised star gazing.”

“Aye.” He took her hand and guided her to the corner of the deck, sitting down in the large lounger and patting the spot next to him. She stood thinking for a moment before joining him on the chair, melting into his side.

“So, Captain, what are we looking for?”

He took her hand and pointed it toward the sky, “Right there, you see that bright star?” She nodded. “That’s Deneb, the star sits at the tail of the constellation, Cygnus.” He turned toward her, meeting her eyes. “That’s the Swan. Mythology says that the Cygnus is actually Zeus in disguise on his way to a tawdry tryst.” He laughed, then traced her hand across the sky. “That star, that’s Albireo, it sits at the Swan’s head and if you are lucky enough to view her from a microscope, you would be blessed with the sight of not one, but two stars huddled together.”

“Where did you learn all of this?”

“My mother used to take Liam and I to our rooftop at night, she would tell us tales of the constellation and the Gods. After she passed, it was the one thing I took solace in, in a way, I suppose it allowed me to continue to communicate with her in some way.”

“That’s beautiful. When did you lose your mother?”

“Oh, I was but a young lad of four.”

“I’m so sorry, are you close with your father.”

“No, it was just Liam and I, my father left shortly after my mother died.”

“So, you were all alone?”

“Liam took good care of me. He did the best he could being a young man himself. But he raised me right, taught me to sail, he joined the Navy after I came of age and of course I followed him. Everything I have, all of this, I owe to him.” She was lost in thought beside him. “And what of your parents, are you close?” She laughed but it wasn’t a pleasant laugh which caught him off guard. “Just who are you, Swan.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Perhaps I would.”

“It’s not a pleasant story.” She said as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“You and I have that in common it seems.” He said sadly.

She sighed and relaxed beside him. “I never knew my parents, they left me, wrapped in a blanket on the steps of a police station when I was just a few months old. No note, just dropped me off like I was a donation at Goodwill or something.”

He swallowed hard; it was not a pleasant tale to be sure.

“Anyway, the Nolan’s adopted me, gave me a last name. But they passed when I turned 16, car accident. But my brother, David, he raised me, he’s a good man and he tried to do the best he could with an unruly teenager.”

“Is that why I couldn’t find you in the ship’s register?”

“You were looking me up?” She mused.

“I was merely curious.”

She narrowed her eyes before continuing, “I used the name Swan when I ran away from home.”

“Well, aren’t you a surprise? Your brother must have been distraught.”

“He was, like many sad stories, I met a guy, who I thought meant something to me. I mean, I wanted him to mean something so of course, he disappointed me. And it sucked and it changed my life.” She turned toward him, rolling slightly in the chair to face him. “You ever want something to work out so bad that your whole world falls out from under you when you lose it?”

He nodded, “Aye.” A lump forming in his throat.

“That’s what happened to me when Neal left. Things got hard and he ran, and I thought my world was over. But…” She stopped talking, looking back up at the sky.

“I was married.” He said suddenly.

“What?”

“I was married for two years.” He said softly.

“But you’re not married now?”

He shook his head sadly. “She died three years ago. Aneurysm. One day she was here, and then…just gone.” He snapped his fingers.

“Oh God, that must have been terrible.”

“One of the worst days of my life.” He felt her fingers trace the flesh at his arm and he turned toward her, a look of uncertainty in her eyes.

“Life isn’t fair.” She said sadly. “Is it?”

She was staring at him, sadness sitting behind the green in her eyes. The wind was blowing across the bow, sending her hair in waves across her forehead. He reached out and brushed the strands from her face.

“Do you want to kiss me?” She whispered, reaching out to grab his hand before he pulled it away from her face.

“Does the lady wish for me to kiss her?” He asked, his heart speeding up in his chest.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it since you kissed me on the bridge.”

“I was afraid I had overstepped.” She sat up, her eyes meeting his.

“I hadn’t been kissed in seven years.” She said softly and all he could think of was what a damn shame that was. “Why should everyone else on board this ship get to have fun except for us?”

“Is that what we’re doing? Having fun, Emma?” He paused before continuing. “I do wish to kiss you, again. I just…”

She frowned, “I understand if…” He pressed his hand to her lips, silencing her.

“It’s been three years, Emma. I’m rusty.” The corner of his lips turned up, “But I think I’d like to figure it out.” Her lips puckered, kissing the pad of his finger that was resting on her lip and he felt shivers race down his spine. His thumb pressed against her jaw line, sliding his hand to her neck, and bending forward to capture her lips with his. Her fingers slid into his hair, eliciting a light moan from his throat.

The kiss was intoxicating, she tasted of chocolate and honey and the moment her tongue slipped from her mouth, he allowed her entrance, their tongues tangling in a heat of desire, his hands exploring the curves of her torso. When his fingertips touched skin at her waist, she moaned wantonly into his mouth and he dropped his head against her neck.

“There may be others on deck.” He breathed against her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent.

She pulled back, staring at him. “Perhaps the Captain can give me a tour of a more private location?” She said softly and he chuckled.

“I think that can be arranged.”

~*~

Emma couldn’t believe what she had said, did she really just ask him to take her somewhere private? Did she intend to sleep with him, a man she had only met a few days ago? Emma was not a reckless person, having Henry at such a young age had taught her to be responsible, never stepping outside of the lines she had set for herself.

And now she was stumbling down the hallways of a cruise ship, her mouth pressed against the Captain of the ship, her body on fire, burning to have him touch her, take her, devour her. She needed this, needed him. She never allowed herself a moment to have something she wanted, everything she ever did was for Henry. With her back pressed up against the door, his hand in her hair, his tongue hot against her ear, she decided that she could have one moment to take something she wanted.

The door pushed open and she fell backwards into the room, his hand steadying her at her back. “Woah, sorry, I think I’m a bit anxious.”

“I’m glad it’s not just me.” She looked around the room. “Holy shit, is this your room.”

He chuckled. “It’s a bit much, I know.”

She wandered through the room, finding a full living room, doors heading off in both directions. “How many rooms do you have?”

He held up his hand, counting on his fingers, “Living room, dining, bedroom, guestroom, and two bathrooms. It’s a bit obscene.” He laughed before stopping to lean against the wall of the door frame, his eyes dark and wanting. She walked slowly toward him. “Shit.” He swore and she stopped in her tracks. “I apologize, Lass, I am out of practice. I’m afraid I don’t have any protection with me, I had no intention of…”

She stopped in front of him, her lip turning upward. “Well, lucky for you, my best friend was determined, even under my direct protest, to ensure that I was prepared.” She opened her purse, displaying a full line of condoms. “Unless you’re not interested…”

He advanced on her in one move, pulling her against his body, the bulge pressing against her hip all the answer she needed. The nervous energy and concern she had before they got to the room were gone, replaced instead with curiosity and desire. Emma hoped that the few memories she had of sex would soon replace her inexperience from lack of practice. They stumbled in the dark, tripping over furniture, and Emma could barely hide her embarrassment when her bra clasp got stuck in the threads of her shirt. Standing in the darkened room, one arm free from her strap and the other encumbered in her sleeve. Despite her attempts at trying to look sexy she was the picture of inexperience.

“Perhaps I should rescue you.” He chuckled against her neck, reaching down to assist her, his teeth raking against her flesh causing goosebumps to appear along the length of her arms. “Relax love.” He whispered.

“Sorry, I’m not exactly experienced in hooking up with men.”

She felt his smile along her jaw, “I haven’t done this for 7 years, but I’m pretty sure it hasn’t changed since then.” His fingertips slid from her neck down to her breast. “Perhaps it’s all muscle memory.” His voice was thick in her ear as his thumb rubbed against her nipple, eliciting a groan from her throat. His light chuckle at her response combined with his hot breath in her ear had her dripping with want.

She had only had sex with one other man before. Neal. He was not a talkative lover nor a patient one and while she found sex pleasant, she considered it something she could live without. Emma knew her own body and how to scratch the itch when the feelings arose. Men were never a necessity.

However, as Killian’s hand slid between her thighs, lightly teasing her before he reached up to push her shorts down, she felt her knees give way in anticipation of what was to come. He pushed her back toward the bed, the back of her knees bumping the mattress.

She sat back on the bed, his eyes staring down at her as he stood in front of her. With shaky hands she grabbed his belt, pulling the leather through the loops and sliding it to the floor beside her. Her heart was pounding as she fumbled with the buttons, pushing the pants from his hips to his ankles. He pulled his shirt over his head, leaving him in his boxers in front of her.  His thumb hooked under her chin, pulling her eyes up to meet his. “You really are quite beautiful, Emma.”

She gulped, sliding her hands up the bed to pull her body upwards. She felt the bed dip as his knees pressed into the mattress. He pulled her foot up his body, massaging her calf with his hand before bending to press his lips where his hands had been.  His fingers continued their way toward the apex of her thigh, his mouth not far behind, peppering hot kisses to each part of her flesh. Emma’s entire body felt like it was on fire as he slowly inched toward her most aching desire.

Their eyes connected before he dipped between her thighs, her entire body tensing when his tongue slid between her folds. She could barely stop herself from reaching out and gripping his hair in her hand, the other tightening in the folds of the sheet as her head fell backwards on the pillow, her moan echoing in the otherwise quiet room.

If this was what he was like without practice, Emma dared to think what he would be like after a few more tries. Squeezing her eyes shut she pushed away thoughts of continued activities with the man currently pumping his fingers inside of her. This was a fleeting moment, a one-time thing she deserved to experience, however when his teeth raked over her bundle of nerves, his thumb following with pressure, his fingers sliding in and out of her as she screamed out his name, she thought that maybe she really did owe it to herself to make this a two- or three-time thing before she got off the ship.

~*~

Killian was sure that the sound she made as her body tensed and fell apart under his hands was something he could play over and over again and never tire of hearing. Though he hadn’t pleasured a woman since Milah, watching Emma fall over the edge was like cracking a safe, it was intoxicating and worthy of the treasure it provided.

He slid slowly up her body, his teeth nipping at her soft flesh, sucking against her supple skin in ways that he knew would leave a temporary bruise in the morning. He knew he shouldn’t take pleasure in knowing he was marking her body, but it excited him all the same. He was eager to slide into her, to feel her beneath his body, writhing, moaning, all for him. His body was on fire and only she could put out the flames. When their mouths met, she hitched her leg around his hip, and he swallowed her moans, his erection twitching against her mound.

He moved away from her and she whined. “One moment, love, we aren’t going to get far without one of these.” He lunged for the condom on the bed, tearing the corner open with his teeth and reaching between them to sheath himself.

She bit her lip, watching him, the anticipation of what was about to transpire creeping into his brain. She blinked slowly; her hair splayed out on his pillow. He pressed his lips lightly to hers, “Are you…”

“I want you.” She whispered, the moonlight framing her face. His heart was racing as he pressed against her legs, she opened further to him as he positioned himself at her slick opening, slipping slowly inside of her. “Oh God.” Her legs squeezing him, pulling him toward her as he pushed forward, fully seating inside of her.

“Christ.” He grunted, before their lips met hungrily, his tongue slipping into her mouth before he began to thrust into her. Her nails pierced the flesh at his back, bucking her hips into his, sending his body into a frenzy. As if a switch was thrown, their motions became frantic, desperate, and messy, the sounds of moaning, heavy panting, and strangled screams invading the normally serene ocean sounds around them.

Just when Killian was sure he wouldn’t last any longer she shoved his shoulder, pushing he over onto the bed and sinking down on top of him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he would last like this. Her blonde hair cascaded down her naked form, the moonlight glowing on her milky white breasts, her chin tilted toward the ceiling with her mouth open, soft moans falling from her lips.

“Emma, look at me, darling.” He reached out, taking her hand, and bringing it between them, intertwining their fingers against her clit. Their eyes made contact and she screamed out, squeezing his cock in her warm slick until he could hold back no longer, spilling into the condom as he bucked into her body. When her hips finally stilled against his, he reached up, his hand trailing her spine, pulling her down to him and twisting her to her side, his lips pecking softly at her jaw.

“I hope that was at least as good as you remembered sex to be.” He smirked.

“Oh God no.” She exclaimed before laughing and he frowned. “I mean, I’ve never experienced anything like that.” She added.

“My apologizes, for your past lover then.”

Her head fell back on the pillow as she broke into a fit of giggles that was almost music to his ears. “I don’t know what I find more attractive, the sounds you were making a minute ago or the ones you are making now.” He said lazily and she pulled back to stare at him before she started fumbling around for her clothes.

“You are welcome to stay, if you would like.” She turned to look at him.

“I would, but Ruby would ask a million questions if I didn’t come back to the room tonight. She’s already going to wonder why I didn’t come to the dance.”

He sat up, kissing her bare shoulder as she tried to gather her clothes to dress. “Emma.” He said softly against her skin. “I want you to know that I do not normally behave this way.”

She laughed again, “You mean have sex with your passengers?”

“Well that yes, but…”

She turned, “Killian, I wouldn’t be here if I thought that of you. You don’t have to explain. I find you attractive, I enjoyed the evening, we are two consenting adults.”

“I’d very much like to see you again.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we are stuck out here on the ocean for another week then. I can’t see how we wouldn’t see each other.”

He narrowed his eyes, “That is hardly what I meant.”

She leaned forward, nudging her nose into his neck. “I’m just teasing you.” She nipped at his ear. “I want to see you again too.” His arm went around her waist and he pulled her backward onto the bed. Their mouths connecting hungrily.

“It’s still early, Swan. I don’t have to check in on the bridge for another hour.” She giggled into his mouth, “It would be a shame to waste all those condoms.” When he felt her hand wrap around his cock, he thought perhaps he could be a little late to the bridge.

[demisexualemmaswan]

to make the season bright

Summary: Killian's been in love with his roommate, Emma, for as long as he's known her. But when she admits to him that she's lost a sentimental Christmas present, how can he prove to her that she means more to him than what would've been underneath the tree that year?

[Read on Ao3] A/N: Wow, I can't believe that this is my 6th year running for doing Captain Swan Secret Santa! And I still get someone new every year! This is a gift for @resident-of-storybrooke​ who has been absolutely so lovely to chat with over the last month! I hope you like your gift! Thanks to @cssecretsanta2020 for organizing this year’s event! 

Shoutout to @kmomof4​, @teamhook​, @lonelyspectator12​, @hollyethecurious​ and the entire CSMM discord who kept me motivated while I was writing!

--

Killian Jones was a neat man.

His days from the Navy—and Liam’s strict rules from his childhood—instilled that habit in him. And while he was well aware that not everyone would feel the same as he did, he was not so tested until he started living with Emma Swan.

He’d met Emma at a party. Her boyfriend at the time had gotten very aggressive after copious amounts of eggnog and tried to swing and Killian, who’d promptly flipped Walsh and broke Ruby’s coffee table. Ruby was easily persuaded to forgive once Killian had bought her a new coffee table.

At first, he was sure that Emma hated him for what had happened until a few weeks later, when she’d demanded, eyes aglow with fire and determination, that she teach him how to flip people over. She’d cited it was necessary for her job, and he hadn’t quite known what that meant until he saw her flip a skip onto his back when he tried to punch her.

Their self-defense lessons after his shift then turned into quick lunches, which turned into movies nights with just them in addition to their friend group’s movie nights. It was during a group movie night that it was revealed that despite breaking up with Walsh at the Christmas party, he was still living in the apartment because Emma couldn’t afford the rent by herself. While Emma was surprisingly prudent in her savings given her general cavalier to almost everything else in her life including what she ate and the state of her room, she was only paid as long as she could work. Any long-term injury would send her careening backwards in her savings, and letting Walsh live in the apartment was a way to offset the financial risk.

Killian, a life-long believer in good form, simply wouldn’t stand for it. Since the apartment was in Emma’s name only, Walsh had no claim to it. And surprisingly to all (or unsurprisingly) that as soon as Regina mentioned her sister was single, Walsh had no problem moving out of Emma’s apartment, allowing Killian to move in.

So here he was, 9 months later, trudging up to the apartment that he and Emma shared.

His cheeks flushed even though no one was around.

The first time he’d mentioned that he was moving in with Emma, his brother had squawked and protested that he should’ve known Killian was seeing someone. And every time Killian spoke to Liam, Liam always asked if he and Emma started dating yet. Which…they were not a couple, they were just friends. Though Killian would’ve absolutely dated Emma in a heartbeat, if given the opportunity. She was beautiful, strong, and incredibly intelligent in a way that surprised people who were just meeting her. He absolutely adored her and cherished every moment he spent with her. But with the strength of their bond also came with the vulnerabilities Emma allowed him to see. She had been betrayed, hurt, and let very few people know what was truly going on in her mind. He was honored that after such a short time, she had let him into the circle that only included a handful of people. So he didn’t push her for anything romantic, for fear that if his intentions were misperceived that she would draw her walls up again. Not that he blamed her. She’d been disappointed by so many people in her life, and it would kill him if he ever joined those numbers.

Besides, what sort of a man would force his intentions by someone with whom he cohabitated a space with? Well, Walsh would, he could hear Emma’s derisive remark in her head. Still, he began marching up the steps in their apartment complex, hoping that Emma could hear. Tonight was the night that they were exchanging gifts before he went off to his brother’s house and she went off to her brother’s house. It was a tradition that Emma valued most highly, having missed her fair share of Christmases in her youth. Emma had been passed around the foster system almost her whole life until she’d met Ruth Nolan at age 16. Well, correction: she’d met Ruth’s son David (her now brother), who had brought her home to his mother on her first day of school, and Ruth had done everything humanly possible to keep Emma with them.

Killian, having been taken in by his older brother when his brother had emancipated from their father, could sympathize with wanting spend time with family. Though he was sure that, knowing Emma, she’d been caught up in something and waited until the last possible moment to wrap his gift despite her imminent departure. He knew this because he’d walked in on her wrapping his gift on his birthday. She’d scowled when he laughed, and her cheeks had turned red with embarrassment. But it had been the perfect gift and she still had surprised him with a wonderful chocolate cake.

His heart warmed affectionately upon how she’d gone out of her way to get it from his favorite bakery, one that marked the halfway point between where he lived and his brother’s. He recalled the shy smile that tugged at the edge of her lips when she told him that she hoped he liked his cake. It was the memory of his birthday that had inspired him to go out of his way to get a particularly excellent birthday for her in October, and now an excellent Christmas present. For her birthday, he’d gotten her a pair of high heeled boots that the saleswoman assured him were comfortable, and now were Emma’s go-to piece of footwear for chasing skips. 

For Christmas, he’d gotten her baby blanket repaired. She’d been left at a hospital with nothing but a knitted blanket with her name on it. It was all she had given toward any clue toward her parents. But a drunk Will had accidentally unraveled it at Halloween, and although she’d tried to hide it from their friends, Emma was absolutely distraught about the destruction of her blanket.

He was picturing the look on her face, hoping her eyes would light up with joy and he could watch her fingers reverently trace the knitwork when he arrived at the front door and was overcome with the notion that something was very wrong. The door was slightly ajar, which was unusual for their apartment. Immediately shifting into high alert, he opened the door gently. The apartment was beyond a disaster.

Things were thrown about everywhere, the window was thrust right open and one of the flowerpots was shattered on the ground. Killian began to catalog all of the damage, wondering whether or not there had been a robbery, when he heard the tiniest of sniffles. His blood ran cold, his shoulders became stiff and tight and his heart began to pick up in his chest. “Emma?” he called, trying to keep his worry at bay. As he moved through the apartment, there was a path of destruction no matter where he went. His mind kept picturing horrible scenario after horrible scenario, particularly as Emma’s sobs became louder and louder as he approached her bedroom.

“Emma?” he tried again, not hearing a response. Unable to stand it any longer, he thrust the door open. Her room had seemingly taken the worst hit; even though it was normally in a state of disarray, the destruction in her room could only be described as catastrophic. And there was Emma, in the middle of it, sobbing like the world was ending. He immediately scooped her up and placed her on the bed, frantically assessing her for injury. His Emma was a tough lass, and so for her to be crying like this meant the absolute worst of the worst.

When she seemed to realize it was him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against him. He wrapped himself around her protectively, stroking the back of her hair. “You’re all right, love,” he whispered softly. “You’re safe. I’m here…it’s all right, Emma.”

“’s not!” Emma choked out, curling up against him, her entire body heaving and shaking with the force of her cries. “It’s not all right!”

“What happened?” he asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. Though he was not entirely unsure that she was unharmed, there still was the state of the apartment to contend with. He was desperate to clean it, but if there needed to be a police investigation, he couldn’t touch the damn thing.

Her shaking damn near broke his heart and he held her closer, shushing her gently. “It’s okay, love, it’s okay,” he promised her again.

“It’s not!” she hiccupped. “I lost it! I can’t find it!”

His heart picked up again, wondering if she’d gone looking for her baby blanket for comfort and was unable to find it. Suddenly, he felt like the world’s biggest asshole, taking her blanket without permission. It was something she treasured and was comforted by and he had no right to take it without her permission.

He looked down at her, preparing to make a million and one apologies to her and to assure her that her baby blanket was safe and she could have it right then and there, when she added miserably, “I lost your Christmas present!”

“What?” he asked, dumbfounded. He nearly laughed at the absurdity of it all but seeing how devastated Emma was kept his tongue in check. He knew that she wouldn’t have appreciated his chuckling.

She pulled away her head hung low as she continued to cry. “You must hate me!” she declared, still not looking at him. “I know it’s Christmas and I’m so sorry…I should’ve taken better care of it…”

It was only then that he realized that she’d mistaken his shock for anger, and he gently reached for her hand. “Emma, love,” he tried to soothe softly, running his thumb across her knuckles. “It’s okay. I’m not angry…”

“You will be when you find out what it is,” she muttered, her head still hung low.

“Emma, trust me, whatever my gift was supposed to be, it cannot be worse than the scenario I’d concocted in my head when I discovered the door ajar and the apartment destroyed,” he replied, reaching for her again. Maybe there was a part of him that still needed to reassure himself that she was safe. She finally looked up at him, her head cocked to the side curiously. “I…when I saw everything in disarray and heard your cries, I…I thought we’d been robbed and you’d been hurt,” he admitted shyly, taking his gaze away from hers now.

Her emerald eyes were wide with shock and her mouth hung open a little bit, still needing to reconcile every so soften that people cared about her. Emma’s jaw slid open as she stared at him, her tears stopping almost immediately at the revelation. “You were worried about me?” she squeaked.

“Aye, of course I was,” Killian breathed, holding her close to him. “Everything had gone to pieces and the apartment was not how I left it this morning.”

Emma sighed, scrubbing at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I wanted to clean it up before you got home but then I couldn’t find your present and—" Her breathing picked up again and tears began pooling in her eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Killian murmured, cupping her cheek in his hand. His thumb gently dragged across her cheek.

“And now I’m gonna leave you with all of this cuz I’m supposed to go to David’s!” she babbled. Her body seemed to tremble viciously in his hold. It was clear she’d been on edge and frantic for a while now, only just coming down. Her hand trembled visibly in his hand, and he’d never seen Emma so emotional or terrified. She’d come home battered and bruised, he’d stayed with her overnight in the hospital, but he’d never seen her like this.

His heart seemed to stop. He knew that she held great stock in her trusty bug, but he was unable and unwilling to place her life at risk on it. She was in no position to drive.

“Love, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go to be driving in the condition you’re in,” Killian said softly. “You know David won’t hold it against you if you delay your trip another day. You’re in no state to be driving right now. It’s dark, and you need to be at your best when you get on the road.”

Emma’s lips came together in a thin tight line. “Trust me,” she said sadly. “You’re not gonna want to spend the rest of the night with me and I should go.”

Closing her eyes, she hung her head. “Liam called a few weeks ago, and said he found some of your mother’s hand sewn ornaments in the attic...he wanted to know if...if you wanted them for your birthday. I told him no, that they’d make a lovely Christmas present.”  Her voice got smaller and smaller as she spoke, and a pit of dread formed in Killian’s stomach.

“I got the box and I don’t know where I put it and I’ve looked everywhere...so I’ll just...I’ll clean up and then I’ll go. You can return my Christmas present if you want to,” she finished quietly, not even daring to look at him. “And...and if you want to move out or if you want me to move out, I understand. I’ll need a few days to find a place, but...but I promise I can clear out.”

Killian took in a shaky breath. The loss hit him harder than he was willing to admit. His mother died when he was quite young, but he remembered her sitting in her rocking chair and sewing any ornament Killian or Liam asked of her. “Did...did Liam send me all of them?” he asked, unable to help the question. There was so much about Emma’s speech that he needed to address and respond to, but he couldn’t cling to the desperate hope that some of the ornaments survived.

“No,” Emma rasped, and she watched him with some trepidation. “I had to beg him to take some of them.”

Killian sighed with some relief, knowing that all wasn’t lost forever. Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths. She’d made the decision to save some for Liam. She’d tried to do this nice thing for him. She was always trying to do nice things for him and she deserved the benefit of the doubt.

And if he was honest, she wasn’t particularly the best searcher. Most things she looked at with a half-hearted glance before declaring she couldn’t find them.

So he wasn’t going to let himself believe that his present was gone, until he’d helped her search every last inch of the apartment.

“Let’s clean everything up,” Killian said kindly. “And we won’t discuss anyone moving out until we know for sure it’s lost to the ages and not in a hidden, obscure spot because you were sure you’d remember it later.” He was going to tease her about how many times she’d misplaced her keys, but she’d all but tackled him to the ground before he could take another breath.

He squeezed her tightly as she tucked herself into him. “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“Aye, love,” he promised. “I won’t send you away.” Her whole body seemed to melt at the reassurance. He knew the need for her to hear those words stemmed from her days as a foster child, and he was more than happy to give them.

Seeing how she had clearly and thoroughly mentally lashed herself made it very hard to be angry with her. And if it had turned out that they were gone, he would mourn them like he mourned his mother. He hadn’t known her ornaments had survived after his father seemingly removed every sign of his mother from the house.

And to only know that they existed only when they seemed gone was upsetting, he wouldn’t lie.

But it certainly wasn’t a friendship ending event in his eyes. He would need some space to mourn, but he wouldn’t banish her from her home.

And she needed some tender care at the moment too. It was more than clear that she had done everything in her power to try and relocate them.

He scooped her up in his arms and gently carried her to the couch, which had mercifully been spared. “What—?” she started, pushing herself back up.

His heart seemingly broke again, looking back at her. The circles under her eyes seemed so dark. Her eyes were red and red-rimmed. What kind of awful, imaginary scenarios had she conjured for herself while he’d been thinking the worst?

They were so similar, both scarred by their pasts in different ways.

“I wasn’t joking about you recuperating, Emma,” he said softly. “So I’m gonna make you some cocoa. And when your nerves have settled, you can join me in the cleaning of the apartment.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Emma complained, throwing herself dramatically against the couch. “I lost priceless family heirlooms and destroyed the entire apartment…”

“I think you’ve already beat yourself up enough for it, love,” Killian murmured, trying to imbue every ounce of sincerity into his words. He knelt beside her, hoping he was being reassuring. “And while I won’t lie to you: I’ll be devastated if it well and truly is lost, you shouldn’t feel like you have to continue to beat yourself up.”

Emma frowned as she looked at him. She opened her mouth to ask a question, but then closed it. She seemed to slump into the couch, all the fight drained out of her body.

He went into the kitchen to give her some space. In addition to her cocoa, he decided to get some Christmas cookies from his hidden cookie stash. Killian tried not to listen as she declared to her brother and she was the worst person alive and she had no idea how Killian was going to forgive her or how she could even think about enjoying Christmas if she lost his gift.

Emma treasured sentimental things. He knew this about her. But he hoped that he would not forsake her favorite holiday for his sake.

He’d survive without the ornaments. Truly.

But he hoped to god that they found them. As each moment passed, he was becoming more painfully aware that his friendship with Emma may not survive this event. But not from his side.

She would probably keep herself at a distance and put her walls up out of sheer guilt.

He couldn’t stand to be behind those walls again.

He couldn’t stand her not knowing just how important she was to him.

Knowing how sentimental she was, he figured he had one last move in trying to prove her importance in his life. Breathing deeply, he rushed to his room. His bedroom was still immaculate, and so he was able to quickly duck under his bed.

The gift was still neatly wrapped, the bow skillfully placed on top. He smiled softly at the box before heading back out into the living room.

She’d wrapped a blanket around herself and she was curled up on her side.

She’d never looked more beautiful to him.

Killian gently walked toward her, and she tilted her head up at him questioningly. She blinked owlishly at him for a moment, blurting out, “That’s not my hot cocoa.”

He couldn’t help but burst out laughing in spite of himself. “No, it’s not,” he chuckled, putting the box on the table in front of her.

“But why?” Emma protested, her shoulders coming up around her ears. A guarded and caged look entered her eyes.

“Because I need you to know just how important you are to me, Emma. More important than any ornament ever could be.”

“But they were your mother’s,” Emma protested softly. Her voice caught as she added, “I’d kill to have something of my mom’s. All I have is a torn baby blanket.”

“Open your present, love,” Killian insisted softly.

Delicately, she undid his careful wrapping and made sure to save the bow. “It’s a box,” she said, looking up at him, not making a move to open it any further.

“Your gift is inside the box,” he teased.

Her hands stayed firmly folded in her lap. “Killian, I can’t accept this. Especially after what I did. I ruined your Christmas.”

“Love, don’t you know that you’re all I need for Christmas?” The words well and truly flew out of Killian’s mouth before he could stop them. Her head jerked up abruptly and her eyes were wide with shock. He was almost positive that his jaw was hanging open too. But he continued, “Don’t you know, Emma? It’s you. You here and happy is all I want. It’s what I’ve always wanted.” Killian scratched nervously behind his ear. “Perhaps some day as more than friends. But even if you never felt that way about me, it would still be all I’ve ever wanted.”

He could see the desperate flicker of hope enter her eyes, and he could practically see the thoughts chasing themselves across her face. He could say all those kind things to her, even when she had done what she considered to be an irredeemable act.

Because he truly cared for her.

And so he said the one thing he knew he could to confirm Emma’s hope.

“I love you, Emma.”

Before he could blink, his arms were full of her yet again and her mouth cautiously slid against his. He tightened his arm around her before returning her kiss, all but melting with relief that she not only believed in the strength of his feelings but seemed to return them as well.

When they broke apart, she rested his forehead against his. Very quietly, she asked against his lips, “You love me even though I didn’t get you a Christmas present?”

“I’d say you just did, love,” he hummed, chasing her lips again. She pulled away, levelling him with a look that told him that she genuinely did need the reassurance even though the corners of her mouth were twitching as if to fight back a smile. “Aye, love,” he promised. “They’re just ornaments.”

“I’ll make you new ones,” she promised, resting her hand on his chest. “They’ll be ugly and misshapen, but I’ll—” He silenced her again with a soft and gentle kiss, and Killian let out a sigh of relief when Emma seemed to melt against him. When they broke apart again, Emma’s head rest against his shoulder and he swayed with her gently in the kitchen.

“How long have you been hiding my present from me?” she asked, still staring at the box on the coffee table. “And where? I go into your room like all the time, I can’t believe I didn’t find it!”

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Why, I put it in the one place I know you don’t look: under the bed.”

Emma gasped and jerked her head up so quickly that he would’ve had a broken nose if not for his quick reflexes. “I know where the box with the ornaments is!” she cried joyously, tearing herself from his arms. He followed her back to her room, where she was more than halfway under her bed, pushing things out. “I hid it behind a ton of other stuff in case you ever went looking under my bed!” she exclaimed, her voice muffled.

“Why would I go looking underneath your bed, love?” Killian asked, unable to hold back his laughter this time.

“Because hiding anything from you is a full-time job,” Emma retorted happily, wiggling out from under the bed. Her hair was disheveled, her clothes covered in dust, but her eyes gleamed with unadulterated exuberance as she held a small white box on her hand. Liam’s handwriting on the shipping label only confirmed that these were indeed the box of ornaments.

She all but sprung up and thrust the box into his hand. “Open it!” she demanded excitedly. The grin on her face was infectious, and she was every bit of the “kid on Christmas morning” picture, even though she was a fully grown adult.

Looking at Liam’s handwriting and knowing that he was only some clear tape away from being connected with a piece of his mother made his eyes water. Emma’s hand was quick to brush away any tears before they fell, and he dipped his cheek to kiss her palm. “Thank you,” he rasped, his voice too choked with emotion to be any louder. “Really, Emma. This is…”

“Don’t you know that I love you too?” she asked as if it was all the explanation he could’ve ever needed.

“Aye, I do,” he replied, and gingerly opened the box. There were some familiar ornaments that he’d seen in pictures: a kite from her grandmother that dated back to 1895, a pig, a basket, and angel, each one with a hand-embroidered date on it. But the one that caught was one he was not familiar with. The date on the back said 1990, which would’ve been his first Christmas. Gingerly flipping it over, a beautiful swan stared up back at him and he found his eyes watering again.

“Did you know?” was all he could spit out.

“No,” she replied, her voice equally choked up. She gingerly rested her head against his shoulder as she looked into the box of ornaments with him. “But it seems your mom did.”

“Aye…” he chuckled wetly. “So she did.”

 “Can we put them on the tree?” Emma asked hopefully, looking up at him. Unable to help himself, he leaned down to kiss her again, pouring his love and thanks into the gentle kiss.

“We should,” he agreed against her lips. “And we will. But only after you open your present.”

Emma rolled her eyes playfully and all but dragged him back to the living room with her. He watched as she opened the box and then immediately shut it again. “Is that…?” she asked.

“Aye, love,” he promised. “It is.” With the most care and reverence he’d ever seen her take with anything, she gently took her repaired baby blanket out of the box. Her fingers gently trailed over the stitching, the letters of her name, all of it, as if to try to prove to herself it was real.

He would never forget the loving and content look on her face for as long as he lived.

It was probably what motivated to get her another box one year later.

Only that one had a ring in it.

And two years later?

She gave him a box with a onesie inside that said “I was Daddy’s Christmas present”.  

[searchingwardrobes]

I Promise to Kiss You (Before You Die): 5/7

I know, today isn’t Thursday, but I just didn’t have time to get this chapter revised and posted until today. It’s not a long chapter either, but are you ready for Emma and Killian to reunite after four years?

Huge thanks again to the mods of the @captainswanmoviemarathon​ and my beta @hookedonapirate​​ .

Summary: Emma noticed him first, never forget that, and while all four of the Lucas sisters love Killian Jones, no one loves him the way Emma does, of that she is certain. Killian Jones also made her a promise. Sure, she was only twelve when he made it, but one day he’ll realize what it meant. One day, she hopes, he’ll get over her sister Ruby and finally notice Emma. A Little Women AU

Rated: T

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @let-it-raines @teamhook @bethacaciakay @xhookswenchx @tiganasummertree @shireness-says @stahlop​ @scientificapricot @welllpthisishappening @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @kday426 @ekr032-blog-blog​ @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl​ @profdanglaisstuff @carpedzem @ohmakemeahercules @branlovestowrite @superchocovian @sherlockianwhovian​ @vvbooklady1256 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89​ @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan​ @xsajx @itsfabianadocarmo @spartanguard If anyone wants to be added or removed from this tag list, please let me know!

Chapter Five: Heartbreak

Four years later . . .

As the carriage rattled through the streets of Storybrooke and away from the train station, Killian’s knee bounced nervously. He was tempted to wipe his clammy hands on his dress uniform, but he refrained. Instead, he fiddled with the hat in his hands.

“Regretting surprising them?” Nemo asked.

He smiled at his uncle and shook his head. “No, I’m just excited.”

“They’ll be excited, too. Mary Margaret and David both seemed quite disappointed when it looked as if you wouldn’t make it to the wedding.”

“It was a happy coincidence that my ship made it in time,” Killian agreed. Then the two men fell silent again.

Killian could feel his uncle’s gaze on him, but he was too distracted with thoughts of seeing Ruby again after all these years. All four of the Lucas girls had written him over the years. Ruby’s letters were filled with woes of womanhood and her frustrations with the limited choices afforded to her.

“I wish I were there with you, my dear Killy. Why should you and Papa be allowed to face the lions of injustice while I must sit and embroider for my dowry (which I shan’t need, mind you)? I rather crave violence, to be honest. Of course, I know what you’re thinking. We aren’t at war anymore, Ruby. Yet you’re still going on your most grand adventure without me! Please write me in great detail about life on a navy ship, for I shall . . .”

Killian smiled, remembering her words as he studied his hat. He tried to spin tales for Ruby, though his excitement had more to do with that volatile mistress, the sea, than with violent enemies. His time sailing the Atlantic and the Mediterranean had more to do with showing off the United States’ now powerful navy to all of Europe.

“A Lieutenant,” Nemo said, his voice laced with pride, “you did very well for yourself, my boy.”

“Only junior grade.”

“You still climbed the ranks admirably in only four years. You’re sure you don’t want to make a career of it?”

“I didn’t want-” Killian broke off, clenching his jaw. “That is to say, I’m eager to learn the family business. And Nautilus Shipping will still allow salt water in my veins.”

Nemo raised an eyebrow knowingly at him. “You were going to say you didn’t want to be away too long, weren’t you? Twenty-one is rather young to think of settling down, you know.”

“For me it is,” Killian snapped defensively, words from Ruby’s letters drifting to the forefront of his mind, “yet why is Ruby at the same age hearing whispers that she shall become a spinster? Why must girls marry so young?”

For the first time since Killian had known him, his uncle grew visibly uncomfortable. “Well, I . . . that is, when it comes to starting a family . . .” Nemo trailed off, then his eyes brightened as he craned his neck to look out the window. “Ah, here we are at Orchard House!”

Killian stepped down from the carriage, replacing his hat on his head. He was disappointed to see that the ceremony had already taken place. A receiving line wrapped around the front yard of Orchard House, and Mary Margaret and David stood on the front steps with their wedding party lined up beside them. David received hand shakes from well-wishers while Mary Margaret received kisses, just as tradition dictated. A slow grin spread across Killian’s face as he joined the line, his disappointment replaced with the eagerness he felt to surprise all four of his favorite girls.

His scheming was worth the reaction he received from his long-time friends. David’s bright grin as he pulled him in for a hug was worth the wait in line. Over the last four years, the two had exchanged letters, their pupil/teacher relationship blossoming into friendship. (Though David’s brotherly advice and encouragement still felt like a welcome stand-in for the brother he had lost so long ago).

Mary Margaret teared up as a grin dimpled her cheeks. She embraced Killian tightly and received the kiss he pressed to her cheek with far more joy than she had bestowed on the other guests.

Ruby gasped and dropped her bouquet as she launched herself at him in her typical scandalous way. When she released him, she shoved him lightly in the chest.

“How dare you surprise us like this! Do you know our hearts all sank to our feet when we didn’t see you in the crowd during the vows?”

Killian laughed and winked at his friend, “It was my intention to be here a wee bit earlier, but I can’t deny my delight at surprising all of you.”

“We’re so glad you’re here,” Belle said softly, opening her arms to receive a hug from him.

Killian drew her close gently, concerned at the thready sound of her voice and the pale color of her cheeks. As he held her, he also noted how thin she had become. None of her letters had even hinted at any type of illness. He glanced over at his uncle, who averted his gaze. Nemo had clearly known how poorly Belle was faring, since he had invited her to come and play his piano regularly now that Killian was no longer home to fill the hallways of his mansion with music.

“Welcome home, Killian,” a voice he didn’t recognize spoke at his elbow.

He turned at the sound and was completely taken aback by the lovely woman before him. All the Lucas girls had braided their hair and threaded buttercups and baby’s breath through them, but somehow the effect was more ethereal in Emma’s hair. The bright sunshine of her waves were wild in her youth, but now it was more like spun gold catching the light. Her figure in the lace cream bridesmaid dress captivated him, and the scooped neckline showed off the decolletage she had not possessed four years ago. Killian tore his gaze away and up to her green eyes, his cheeks heating at the instant attraction he felt. He pushed it down, lecturing himself that this was Emma, whom he had always felt brotherly affection for.

“Emma,” he murmured, slightly embarrassed at the breathlessness of his voice, “I scarcely recognized you.”

“I grew up,” Emma laughed. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“My apologies, lass,” he said as he lifted her gloved hand to his lips, his gaze never leaving hers. When he straightened, his heart raced once again at the blush that stained her cheeks.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

Was she just as breathless as he was, or had he imagined it? He suddenly remembered his uncle’s words: A lot can happen in four years . . . girls grow up . . .

“And I am happy to see you, Emma. I can’t call you cygnet anymore, can I?”

“I never liked being called a baby, if you recall. Yet I have always liked being your swan.”

The coyness of her tone and the smirk in her smile made him light-headed. He lifted his hand to scratch behind his ear, but then stopped himself. It wouldn’t bode well for her to know how she was affecting him.

“And that you shall always be . . . Swan.”

***********************************************

Emma burst into the house with such energy and enthusiasm that her bonnet went flying from her head. She shouted for Granny and her sisters, but the first floor was empty. She thundered up the stairs, shouting that she had exciting news, but her family was nowhere to be found on the second level either. She grinned when she saw that the attic door was open and raced up the stairs. Some of the pencils in her hand slipped from her fingers and bounced down the creaky stairs, but she didn’t pause to retrieve them.

“I have wonderful news!” she cried the minute she reached the attic, but she came to an abrupt stop when she saw Ruby on the sofa in the corner, weeping. Belle had her arms around her sister, comforting her. Emma clutched her sketchpad tighter against her chest. “What’s the matter?”

Ruby just turned her face further into Belle’s embrace, and the smaller girl gently patted her back. Emma had never seen Ruby need comfort from anyone, least of all from Belle. Dread filled her stomach. Was someone hurt? Sick? Was something wrong with Killian? Mary Margaret? Granny?

Belle looked up at Emma with a sad expression. “She has refused Killian.”

Emma was rendered silent for a moment as competing emotions rattled within her. On the one hand, she was furious with her sister. How could Ruby be foolish enough to cast aside a proposal from a man as wonderful as Killian? A man who clearly adored her and always had? Yet another part of Emma, the selfish part, was relieved. She had tried over the years to prepare herself for the day when Killian would take Ruby as his wife, but the thought had always left her heartbroken. How could she endure having Killian as a part of her family, but not in the way she longed for? How could she see him for the rest of her days as nothing more than a brother, when her heart ached for so much more?

All of this flitted through Emma’s brain in a moment as she sank onto the edge of the sofa with her sisters. The words that fell past Emma’s lips weren’t even a conscious thought.

“Oh Ruby, how could you?”

Her sister lifted her tear-stained face to Emma in shock. “Do you think I did this to spite him? Do you think I relished breaking his heart?”

Loud, melancholy notes pounded out from the piano next door and floated on the summer breeze up to the attic window. Ruby groaned.

“Listen to him!” She rose from her seat, crossed the attic, and slammed the window shut. She began to pace, worrying her bottom lip. “What can I do? I tried to explain it to him. We would be a horrible match! We’d fight constantly, and eventually, we’d despise each other.”

“But you love him,” Emma said.

Ruby stopped pacing and stared at Emma, shaking her head until her thick brown waves tumbled over her shoulders. “Not like that. Only as a friend. I’ve said it a thousand times, and I’ll say it again: I’ll never marry!”

“You don’t love him?” Emma shouted, jumping up from her seat and tossing aside her sketches. “How can you say that? After all those years of flirting with him!”

“I don’t flirt!”

“Seriously!?” Emma scoffed. “You know what? You don’t deserve him!”

Emma stomped over to retrieve her sketches, her entire body trembling. She was so confused right now. Her relief was overwhelmed by the knowledge of how deeply heartbroken Killian was. She wanted to shake her sister in frustration for so easily casting aside what Emma would give anything to have.

“Emma,” Ruby said gently, placing a hand at her elbow, “I know that you feel for Killian in ways I never could. Don’t be angry with me, thank me!”

Emma looked up at her sister with a trembling smile. “I’m not angry with you, not really.” The strands of Mozart’s Requiem Mass in D floated into the attic, despite the closed window. It felt like a premonition. “I just don’t know that he’ll ever get over you. You know how deeply he feels.”

When Ruby didn’t reply, Emma bent down to pick up her things, then turned toward the door.

“Wait,” Belle called after her, “what was your news?”

Emma felt suddenly sad at the way her earlier excitement had so quickly ebbed away. She mustered a smile for her sisters. “Aunt Regina is taking me to Europe.”

“Why, that’s wonderful!” Belle exclaimed.

“I’m so happy for you, Emma,” Ruby added. “You can study painting.”

Emma nodded and forced a brighter smile upon her face. “She hopes I might make a suitable match there.”

The words fell heavy in the room as Emma turned and made her way back downstairs.

**********************************************

Admiral Nemo sighed, his forehead creased with worry as the train chugged its way out of the station. He didn’t think his nephew would find the balm he was seeking on this journey, yet what could he do? The boy was as stubborn as they came.

He ran a hand wearily over his face as he turned away from the station and went back to his waiting carriage. Regina Mills’ Brougham was parked nearby, and the woman herself sat stiffly inside it. Nemo headed over and tipped his hat to her.

“Good day, Miss Mills. What brings you out today?”

“My man is purchasing our train tickets for the morrow,” she told him primly. She arched one brow and continued, “Ms. Swan and I are leaving for our European tour.”

Nemo’s brows raised. “Is that so?”

“Yes it is,” replied Regina with a sly smile, “and I assume you just saw your nephew off?”

“I did,” Nemo sighed.

“Rumor has it, he is off on his own European tour.”

“If you could call it that,” Nemo scowled. “He’ll be heading to Italy to reconnect with his mother’s old friends in the theater. God knows where he’ll go or what he’ll do after that.”

Regina nodded sagely before speaking again. “Sometimes a young man needs time to nurse a broken heart.”

“More like sow his wild oats,” Nemo bit out. “I had hoped he would go to London to take charge of my business there, make something of himself, but alas . . .”

“A pretty young lady with a good head on her shoulders could entice him to do so.”

A slow smile spread across Nemo’s face. “I agree.”

“So you’ll write me and let me know his itinerary?”

“Gladly,” Nemo assured her with a conspiratorial grin upon his face. He had tried to steer his nephew toward Emma, especially after he witnessed their reunion at the wedding, but it had been to no avail. Yet if the pair just so happened to cross paths in a more romantic setting . . .

“Good day to you, Admiral,” Regina said as her man returned with the tickets. Her eyes sparkled with sly mischief as the Brougham rolled away.

[curiousconstellations]

Signs of Love

Hi @shireness-says I’m your CS Secret Santa! It’s been so great talking to you for the past few weeks (even if it was sporadic on my end, apologies!) and I hope you enjoy this gift (and I may or may not be working on a fic that includes the tropes you love that I didn’t include here!) I hope you have a wonderful Christmas and enjoy your favourite traditions- I’m curious to know what ornament you received :) 

And thank you @cssecretsanta2k19​ for hosting a great event this year!

“I know I’m here for Mary Margaret and David, but God I hate this lame, cheesy shit.”

Killian is more amused than offended by this comment, having heard plenty of grumbles from the tag-along partners of his customers that sneer and scoff at his products. He stands around the corner from the checkout, hidden by a wall that allows him to eavesdrop on the one-sided conversation of the woman’s phone call.

“I know they love this stuff but I’m the one that has to spend money. I’d rather it not be on crap, you know?” The woman continues and Killian begins to feel a little defensive. His store was a small but well-crafted selection and range of rustic items, mostly his own versions of things people see in magazines and want in their homes.

The wooden ‘live, laugh, love’ signs were the most popular, along with wicker log baskets and white metal heart ornaments, boxes and photo frames. Killian is aware that this is a particular taste in décor but he takes pride in his business of local production and sales.

“Okay, well I’ll ask if they do that kind of thing, if anyone even works here. This place is literally empty.”

Killian waits for the woman to hang up the phone before making an appearance, catching her checking out the price tag on a photo frame with an expression that looks like actual interest.

“Can I help you?” Killian asks politely. The woman has the decency to look a little sheepish as she looks up at him, but she quickly dismisses the photo frame to march up to the checkout counter.

“I need a gift for my friend’s wedding. I was wondering if you did custom orders?” The woman asks assertively. There’s a hardness to her green eyes that means business and it’s clear she’d like to get this gift and be done quickly.

“Aye, we do custom orders. It can take up to 6 weeks depending on what you want, so if it’s a last-minute gift I’m afraid it won’t be done in time.” Killian tells her, fighting back a grin when her eyebrows shoot up.

“Are you insinuating that I’m a crappy friend that buys wedding gifts last minute?” The woman retorts and Killian puts his hands up defensively.

‘Not at all, love. I’m merely informing you to avoid receiving a complaint that it isn’t ready for the event. We strive for the best quality production, which can sometimes not be quick enough for some customers, even if it is lame, cheesy shit.’ Killian replies, letting a smirk spread across his lips when he uses her words. The woman appears to be shocked at first, but with the twitch of her lips and the drop of her shoulders she shakes her head and softens slightly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. All this wedding stuff is just stressing me out.”

“Why don’t we start over? I’m Killian Jones, at your service to design whatever gift you wish.” He extends his hand with a soft smile, watching as the woman’s eyes roam over his face for an intense moment before she slides her hand into his.

“Emma Swan, maid of honour for her best friend’s wedding and entirely void of sentimentality.” She says quietly, offering him a small, short-lived smile. Their hands slip away, and Killian slides a folder on the counter towards her.

“This has all the choices of material we have available, ranging from metal to several different types of wood. It also has all the styles of engravings and personalized messages and how much it costs. Feel free to browse through.” Killian says softly, looking up to see Emma chewing her lip as she quickly flicks through the pages in the folder.

“Yeah, I have no idea about any of this stuff. Do you have any suggestions?” Emma sighs, looking up at him with desperation in her eyes.

“How about you come on back, I have some sample products I can show you to get some ideas.’ Killian offers, gesturing behind him to the back room of the store. Emma glances around and Killian chuckles, much to Emma’s surprise.

“This place is, as you said, literally empty. I’ve got more work to do back there than out here anyway.” He explains, and Emma silently nods in agreement, a light blush rising to her cheeks as he repeats her less than kind words once again.

“So, how long have the happy couple been together?” Killian asks as Emma walks around the counter to join him, the folder tucked under her arm.

‘Three years this December. Mary Margaret found an injured bird and brought it to David’s vet clinic, and I guess they fell in love over a broken wing. They’re that couple, you know?” Emma snorts, but he can tell she thinks a lot of her friends underneath the derision.

“Well, I have a few bird ornaments if you want something like that. Or I can make something with their wedding date on.” Killian offers, watching Emma as she looks around his workshop with curiosity. She stops at a wooden sign he’s in the middle of carving for the Robinson family and hums thoughtfully.

“I think something like this would be nice on their porch, maybe with a bird on each end and ‘The Nolans’ in the middle. And then maybe something else with their wedding date on too, is that okay, can you do two things?” Emma asks sheepishly. He feels himself smile at the way she crinkles her nose when making the request.

“Of course, love. I’ll make anything you pay for.” Killian teases, pleased when she actually laughs a little. He grabs some scrap paper and draws some designs for her, and he’s surprised when she helps him with ideas and seems excited. They look over types of wood and measurements until he has a clear vision of what she wants. Judging by the genuine smile on her face, he thinks he has convinced her that his shop isn’t just lame, cheesy shit after all. He creates an initial invoice for her and spontaneously decides to write his number on the bottom, just in case she had any inquires or requests of course. Her expression tells him she knows exactly what he is doing, but there is something in the way her mouth curves into a light smile that gives him hope she might actually keep it.

-/- 

Winter is here in full force this evening as Emma gets out her car and races into Killian’s store away from the billowing snowstorm. She groans at the feel of the heat once inside, kicking the snow off her boots and shivering. Killian isn’t in the front of the store, so she heads into the workshop in the back like she’s a regular (at this point though maybe she is, letting herself in when the store is closed and all that). He’s sanding away at some wood with headphones in, his head nodding to the beat as he works. She can hear him singing quietly too, his voice deep and pleasant. Emma has to admit, he looks particularly attractive when he’s in his workshop and his hair gets messy and his shirt clings to his arms.

She walks in front of his work bench, waving when he looks up in surprise.

“Swan, hi.” Killian says, sounding flustered. He takes out his headphones and brushes his forehead with his arm.

“Hey. I’m sorry for dropping in uninvited. I just wanted to um…ask you something.” She feels ridiculous now, realizing she should have just sent a message instead of coming out here like this.

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but I haven’t quite finished The Nolans’ gift.”

“No, it’s not that. Well, it kind of is I guess. Related to the gift. I mean, more like the wedding itself but anyway. I just wanted to ask if you would be my plus one for the wedding? Of course you shouldn’t feel obligated to come just because I asked and you’re making the gift but there was some confusion. I was going to bring my son as my guest, but David and Mary Margaret counted him as a guest on the list already and now there is an extra seat and everyone I know is already going and I can’t be the maid of honour and be responsible for screwing up the numbers so I’m inviting you.”

“So, you’re inviting me, a man you’ve known for two weeks, to your best friend’s wedding where I will be joining you presumably at the front of the wedding reception along with your child whom I’ve never met?” And didn’t know existed, she’s sure he’s thinking too.

“Okay, when you put it like that, yeah it’s weird. I’m sorry I asked, I’m way overstepping.” Emma feels her face burn and suddenly all she wants is to back outside in the snowstorm.

“I never say no, lass.” Killian chuckles, putting down the sandpaper and wood on the bench and standing close to her. She can see the mischievous glint in his eye before his expression becomes a little more serious.

“I would love to accompany you, Swan. Send me the details and the colour of your outfit so I can dress accordingly.”

“Killian, this isn’t the prom, we don’t have to colour coordinate.” Emma snorts, shaking her head as he wiggles his eyebrows. She’s learned over the past couple of weeks that Killian is usually flirtatious and humorous, and she’s come to expect his eyebrow raises and cheeky grins. She wishes she didn’t fall for it quite so much, but he also seems like a pretty decent guy and she knows he’s putting in a lot of work to get the gifts made for her.

“I do have to warn you though, a lot of people are going to ask if we’re dating. Actually, I know for a fact my friend Ruby is going to pounce on you the second we get to the wedding. I just don’t want things to be awkward, and Henry doesn’t even know you so…” Emma trails off, the gears in her head making her realize this probably isn’t the best idea.

“No worries, this is a purely platonic arrangement, I understand.” Killian nods, making her sigh with relief. She doesn’t want to deal with not bringing a guest but in all honesty she hadn’t fully considered actually bringing Killian as a guest either. She’s sure David and Mary Margaret would appreciate meeting the man who literally carved their wedding gifts, but she has not had a plus one that wasn’t her son in a very long time, and she knows full well that people lap that kind of gossip up at weddings.

“How old is your boy?” He asks, and Emma knows he’s trying to quell her concerns.

“He’s ten. He’s a great kid, wise beyond his years. It’s been me and him his whole life.” Emma stops there, thinking that is plenty of information to share for now. Killian smiles and nods but doesn’t push for more details and she is appreciative, glad when he turns her attention to the woodwork. He makes her feel the smooth edges and wiggles out compliments from her on his handiwork and she decides that she made the right decision in wanting Killian as a friend in her life.

-/-

The wedding party is in full swing, everyone dancing and laughing around the newlyweds. Emma watches Henry as he gleefully cheers while Killian gives him a piggyback around the dancefloor. It had been surprisingly easy introducing Killian to everyone, but Henry was the most excited and receptive, immediately asking Killian to say things in his ‘funny accent’ and asking him what comic books he likes.

“It’s almost like Killian is the perfect guy for you.” Ruby grins as she sits down beside her, and Emma rolls her eyes. She’s surprised she held out this long without saying anything.

“Ruby, we’re just friends. He’s a great guy and Henry seems to really like him but I’m not looking for this to be anything more.”

“Sometimes things just happen when you’re not looking though. Just think about it.” Ruby says, a bit too seriously for Emma’s liking. She brushes her off and pretends to go grab some food but instead heads over to the Christmas tree by the window where it is quiet. David and Mary Margaret went for a rustic winter aesthetic for their wedding but couldn’t resist adding some Christmas decorations. It’s perfectly picturesque outside too, with the snow lightly falling and dusting the trees with white, a fairy tale winter wedding fit for her friends.

Emma knows Ruby means well, and all her friends who’ve told her how great Killian is tonight, but Emma finds it more important to enjoy people being in her life than trying to define their relationship or make it something immediately. Besides, she has Henry to think about. It’s one thing for her to get potentially hurt in a relationship, but she absolutely does not want Henry to get hurt.

“You look like you could use a drink.” An accented voice tells her from behind, and she turns to see Killian with two glasses of champagne, extending one out to her.

“Thanks, I definitely could.” She laughs, clinking her glass lightly with his.

“Your boy is wonderful, Swan.” He says softly, and she thinks about Henry’s happy laugh with Killian just now.

“I think he likes you too. He’s so open with everyone, but I admit I’m cautious about introducing him to new people. Friends like David and Mary Margaret will always be in his life, but some people are more like his dad than them.” Emma feels instant regret at her words, hating that she turned their conversation serious.

“That’s perfectly understandable. My older brother essentially raised me, and he was always cautious of people coming into my life after our father left. Defense mechanism and all that.” Killian shrugs before taking a long drink of champagne. Emma studies him for a moment, looking over his clean suit and shiny shoes. He’s wearing spicy cologne and she recalls that his hair, now messy from giving Henry a piggyback ride, had been carefully styled at the beginning of the ceremony. He had put a lot of effort into preparing himself for tonight and she feels warm at the thought that he cared about it.

“Does your brother know a woman you’ve only known for a few weeks asked you to her best friend’s wedding?” She jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“My brother is no longer with us, but if he was I’m sure he would get a laugh out of hearing that before lecturing me.” Killian smiles a little, but Emma still internally curses herself for probing about his brother. She’s about to apologize but he shakes his head.

“It’s fine, honestly. He’s been gone ten years now. It was not long after we started the business together, so I find the most important thing for me has been keeping it afloat.”

“Oh God, now I feel even worse calling it lame shit when I first came in!” Emma cringes, covering her face with her hand in mortification.

“Lass, it was funny, I’m truly not offended. Besides, you gave me a pretty decent cheque so I will not hold it against you.” Killian laughs, and Emma downs the rest of her champagne in embarrassment.

“Well, I have one more job for you that will add to that cheque. Could you maybe help with putting up the Nolan sign on their front porch? I wanted to do it when they’re away on their honeymoon, so when they come back its there.” Emma asks, crinkling her nose in the way she knows Killian finds amusing.

“Aye, I can help. But not for any payment.”

“Okay, fine. Only if you come dance with me.” Emma smiles. The champagne must have gone straight to her head, but she tries to stop thinking so much as she grabs Killian’s arm and pulls him back into the main reception room. Killian puts down their glasses and she laughs as he swings her around quickly to the music. He’s messing around but she can tell he is a good dancer.

It’s when the music becomes slower and the couples around them start swaying that Emma comes down from the fun a bit and realizes Killian takes hold of her like they’ve done this numerous times before.

“I’m not so good at this part.” Emma quietly laughs as she figures out where to put her arms around Killian. He hums, and the sound is soft and deep in her ear.

“Well, all you need to do is pick a partner who knows what he is doing.” Killian replies, and Emma finds herself softening into his arms. For a moment, she forgets where she is and all the anxieties she had about bringing him here and just enjoys the moment. It’s the first time in a very long time she’s felt comfortable with someone new, and instead of overthinking it or running like she always does, Emma decides to embrace it.

-/-

4 years later

Killian tries to fight through the craziness of the workroom, dividing the projects up based on what is ready for pick up and what is still being worked on. It’s the store’s busiest Christmas yet and he can’t imagine a time when he did this by himself. Will and Robin are working away at their own stations and David has stopped by to lend a hand, thankfully.

He’s running back and forth between the store front and the workroom helping customers and bringing out their orders for most of the day, not even taking notice when it’s dark outside and the store hours are long over. The chaos is finally under control when David heads home for the night, and Killian decides to work on the finishing touches on one more project before doing to same.

“So, he goes up to this woman at the bar right, and starts turning on the charm when this big guy, absolutely all muscle, comes up behind him, picks him up and drops him off away from his girlfriend.” Robin laughs hysterically as he tells the story of his and Will’s latest escapades in the pub, Will trying to downplay the incident while exclaiming “it wasn’t like that!”

“I would have loved to have seen that. Why didn’t you guys mention when you were heading to the pub?” Killian asks as he finishes off a coat of varnish on a wooden ornament.

“You were having dinner at Emma’s that night; we didn’t think you’d want to go.” Robin shrugs, glancing over at Will quickly.

“I’m always down for a night at the pub.” Killian jokes, but he narrows his eyes at the looks between his friends.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just we’re both single and we like to, you know, chat to women and stuff. You don’t seem to be all that interested in doing that.”

“I’m single.” Killian is met with snorts from his friends and he gestures with his hands in confusion.

“Come on, Jones. You’re deeply in love with Emma and everyone knows it. Ain’t fair to any other women to lead them on.” Will tilts his head at him and Killian feels the judgment in his eyes.

“And when did ‘everyone’ come to that conclusion?”

Robin and Will are silent for a moment, before Robin clears his throat and puts down the piece of wood his is working on.

“Look, we all think you and Emma would be great together. We just wish you would actually realize that yourselves.”

Killian scratches his ear awkwardly. He is perfectly aware that he and Emma’s relationship is the topic of much discussion among their friends, but they’ve been friends for four years now so the comments really ought to stop, particularly now that Emma is seeing Walsh.

“Emma is in a relationship; I hardly doubt she has feelings for me. Besides, I may have liked Emma when we first met but I’m way past that now.” Killian knows that’s a bald-faced lie even as he says it but he doesn’t know what else to say to get them off his back.

“Then why did Walsh return the gift he got her for Christmas earlier?” Robin challenges and Killian feels a sudden lurch in his chest.

“He did?”

“Yeah, he came in and returned the gift, said that he didn’t need it anymore and he was sure there were other things from your store Emma would prefer instead.”  

Killian silently digests this information, feeling awful for hoping this meant that Emma’s relationship was over. He had been spending far less time with Emma since she had met Walsh, and spent even less time with the man to judge him all that well and knew any negativity he felt toward him was born out of jealousy. He could admit that to himself, but God help him if Emma ever knew that.

“The way I see it is you’ll never get what you want if you don’t go for it, and I think there is a long overdue conversation you need to have with her.” Will offers, Robin nodding in agreement. Killian thinks on it for a long time, and soon Will and Robin head home for the night and he is alone. He absentmindedly turns things off and packs things away before going home himself, standing for a moment by his car as the snow falls. It is quiet tonight, his store far enough out that he can’t hear and sounds from town.

For some reason he thinks of the sight of Emma at David and Mary Margaret’s wedding, standing by the Christmas tree with the snow falling outside. He’d been lucky enough to spend a couple of Christmases with Emma since then, but sometimes he wishes he could go back to that moment and just tell her he liked her then, so that four years down the line being in love with his best friend wouldn’t be as torturous.

Killian rubs his hands together to warm up before getting in his car, completely ready to crawl into bed. And yet, twenty minutes later he finds himself pulling up outside Emma’s apartment. Henry answers the door, and Killian suddenly realizes he has no idea what he plans to say to neither Emma nor Henry.

“Thanks for coming, I feel like you’d be better at this than me.” Henry says, and Killian frowns as he enters the apartment, slipping off his shoes and hanging his coat on the peg he always does. He checks his phone quickly and sees a message from Henry, asking him to come comfort Emma after Walsh left. Killian breathes a sigh of relief and clings to this excuse for coming over. Henry is a tall lad now and his voice is so deep Killian forgets he is only fourteen and probably correct in saying he is not the best at comforting his mother through a heartbreak.

“No worries, lad. Thanks for thinking of me.”

“Well you’re the one other person that makes mom the happiest, and I know you would do anything for her.” Henry has always been an observant boy, but Killian has always suspected he sees more than he lets on. He squeezes Henry’s shoulder and makes his way to Emma’s room, knocking on the door lightly before entering once he hears her small voice and closing the door behind him.

“Killian, what are you doing here?” Emma asks, looking around at the stuff on her bed with wide eyes. Killian’s eyes glance down, and he notices an open box and several cards, pieces of paper and tickets. He can’t quite make out what any of it is specifically, but he suspects it was things Emma had gathered over the course of her five-month relationship with Walsh.

“Henry messaged, thought you could use a friend.” He shrugged, watching as she scoops everything up and puts it back in the box.

“Because of Walsh? I’m honestly fine.” Emma replies, and he’s surprised at the steadiness of her voice.

“Are you sure? You seem…nostalgic.” He gestures at the box, raising his eyebrow when Emma scoffs.

“I am, but none of this is to do with Walsh. Um, it’s actually stuff from over the last few years, things we did together and things from you.” Emma puts the lid back on to hide everything, holding the box close to her chest as if trying to still keep it a secret. She’s missed one piece of paper, and he picks it up before she notices it. It’s the invoice for the wedding gift four years ago, the one he wrote his number on (he remembers claiming it was in case she had any more requests for the order, and the look she gave him at the time knowing fine well she could use the store number for such things).

“And you said you were void of sentimentality.” Killian says, the first thing that comes to mind. He’s taken by surprise when Emma laughs, but he’s pleased that she isn’t brushing him off. In fact, she lifts the lid back off the box and pushes it towards him at the end of her bed. He looks through the contents, smiling at all the memories and keepsakes she had collected. There was a strip of pictures from a photobooth they had taken two years ago at an arcade for Henry’s 12th birthday. The one with all three of them smiling at the camera was framed in the living room with several other photographs, but it was the last one Killian was drawn to. Henry had darted out of the booth in the previous picture and Killian and Emma were left alone, looking at each other.

“I feel like in that picture it looks like you could love me. Sometimes I look at it to try and convince myself that you really do.”

“It was one of the few moments I couldn’t stop myself. I must have done a good job of trying to hide it the rest of the time, at least to you.” Killian murmurs, and he watches Emma suck in her bottom lip. He suddenly realizes what a fool he is being and walks over to kiss her, feeling her immediately lean into his touch.

“If it wasn’t already clear, I do love you, Swan.” He whispers against her cheek, feeling her cheeks move as she smiles.

“I love you, too.” She replies, and Killian feels the knot in his chest that had been building for four years suddenly loosen at those words.

-/-

This year, Killian truly felt like part of the Swan family Christmas, instead of simply a guest like the previous couple of years. He took part in all of their little traditions, like driving around the neighbourhoods on Christmas Eve to see all the Christmas lights, followed by hot cocoa and a Christmas film. He helped Emma prepare the food and played games with Henry, and once they were done eating he shared his hope for the next year like Henry and Emma always do. They played cheesy Christmas songs and danced, Emma’s hands comfortably finding their way when they swayed to the music this time. Killian would catch sight of the stockings every so often, and seeing his name next to Emma and Henry’s made him smile. It was truly perfect, only beaten by the following Christmas, when Emma unwrapped the ‘Swan-Jones’ family sign he had made and immediately said yes before he had even asked the question.She later showed him the bauble she had Will and Robin carve up that had the very same family name in the middle that she had also planned to propose with, and they hung it up proudly on the tree, soon followed by a bauble with their wedding date.

[donteattheappleshook]

Of Cars and Bars Chapter 11/14

As always, thank you Krystal @kmomof4​ for all of your amazing beta work and for just being a lovely person. This story exists because of and is dedicated to you!

Summary:

Rated E

When Emma Swan is offered the chance to go on tour as an opener for one of the most popular up and coming bands of the decade, the last thing she expects is to find that the lead guitarist is the stranger she had a one night stand with five years ago.

This started out as a smutty two shot about Emma Ruby and Mary Margaret going on a road trip and has evolved into a slow-burn mutual pining angst-fest.

Read it from the beginning on Ao3 and Ffn because tumblr eats all my italics.

Chapter 11 - What If This Is All The Love You Ever Get?

So you've fallen in love / So you've fallen apart / What if it hurts like hell / Then it'll hurt like hell / Come on over, come on over here / I'm in the ruins too / I know the wreckage so well

Killian was trying to concentrate on the song - he really was. He was trying to focus on playing the right chords and singing the right lyrics and egging on the crowd that was cheering and singing along. He was putting in a valiant effort. But it was just so damn distracting. She was just so damn distracting. Emma was on the side of the stage, hidden from the crowd and the cameras - but not from him. No, he could see her just fine, leaning there against an amp, casually, as though she wasn’t looking at him like she wanted to devour him. 

He tried to keep his eyes forward, to remember to interact with Liam (the fans loved that) and with Graham and David. But they kept betraying him, sliding back over to where she stood, still flushed from her own performance, biting her lip and raking her eyes over him from head to toe as he nearly stumbled over the chorus. His hands were sweaty and his heart was racing and he knew his ears must be red. She smirked. She knew exactly what she was doing. He couldn’t even be mad about it - not if it meant she would keep looking at him like that. How much longer was this set?

He felt like he was right back to five years ago, singing to her in the middle of a crowded bar while she practically begged him with her eyes to kiss her. His heartrate picked up even more. He wondered how mad his brother and the guys would be if he up and left the stage early again. No, he could probably only get away with that once. 

She was smiling at him now - oh, god, it was worse than the leer. She was watching him, he’d just started signing again, lips pressed to the microphone and really wishing they were pressed against her instead, and she’d started smiling, a slow, happy smile, the kind that usually crossed his face whenever he watched her on stage. 

He loved that smile - it was new, she’d only just started letting him see it. He’d almost seen it once or twice before but it had been quick, fleeting and bitten back immediately. But now, in just the last few days, she’d let it bloom across her face and he tried not to read into the fact that she seemed to smile like that mostly around him. 

He finally finished the set. There had been seven more gruelling songs that he’d had to play through while actively trying not to let himself be distracted by her and while also being shot casual glares by Liam and smirks by David and Graham. Whatever. He didn’t care. They said their thanks, took their bows, and headed off stage away from the screaming fans who were demanding more. 

He didn’t even bother to pretend like he wasn’t headed straight to her. Was too wound up and excited and happy to play it cool. He walked (jogged) right up to Emma and his heart jumped at the teasing and slightly smug smile she shot him. She let him back her up against the curtains and the amps that were placed haphazardly there behind her. 

“Nice show,” she told him, throwing a quick glance in the direction of the ongoing cheers. The others were around them, Liam was no more than five feet away as he and the rest of the band hung out just next to the stage, debating an encore. And so, Killian didn’t touch her, as much as he wanted to he didn’t touch her because he knew she didn’t like people seeing them together - wasn’t ready to deal with it as she’d told him many times before. That was okay - well, it wasn’t okay, but he would deal with it. He would settle for flirting shamelessly with her until they could be alone. 

He nearly choked as she reached out to toy with the hem of his shirt as she said something he didn’t even hear. He was too focused on the fact that she was touching him - almost touching him - in a way that could not be mistaken for friendly, in front of all of their friends, where any of them could easily see. 

He looked at her, tried to read what was going on in her head, see if she was doing this to throw him off, to rile him or herself up. They’d gotten close to being caught in the past, especially early on in the tour and he’d noticed how it had excited her (despite her complaints about secrecy). It was why he'd started the little game they had, the game where he would try and sneak in any little touch or kiss he could when the others had their backs turned. But there was none of that on her face now. No, as she gazed up at him, her head cocked and that smile spreading across her lips again she just looked… happy. 

“Come on. We’re gonna do an encore.” Killian was jarred out of his thoughts by Liam's hands clapping down on his shoulders. He was still looking at Emma and he could swear he saw a brief flicker of frustration and - was that disappointment? - flash across her face. 

“Sorry, Love,” he told her. All he could do was shrug in apology. She smiled at him again.

“You gotta give the people what they want,” she joked and he laughed. He couldn’t help it, he felt too good. 

He turned to head off after the others who were about to run back on stage, currently being handed their instruments by roadies. He was stopped by a hand catching his own. He spun back around and caught his breath just in time to feel her lips press against his, her hand coming up to his cheek, steading him, grounding him, elating him. 

He couldn’t even help his reaction, it was automatic, a Pavlovian response to her. His hands went to her hair, pulling her just a little closer as he kissed her back with much more enthusiasm than the soft kiss she’d orignially given him. 

“Emma!” Liam called, annoyed. “Release my brother and let him get his ass over here. We’re gonna lose them!” 

Killian froze. Shit. He hadn’t even thought about the others. He feared what he’d see when he looked in her eyes, worried that she’d avoid him like the plague after this. But when he finally mustered the strength to face her, she smiled again, a faint blush on her cheeks, but none of the worry, none of the fear he’d been expecting. Like she didn’t even care at all. 

He didn’t want to lose this. Was worried that if he walked away she would change her mind and start caring again. But he had to get back on stage. He didn’t want to leave her either, didn’t want to stop feeling her skin under his hands and looking at the curve of her smile, the openness in her eyes. He had an idea. 

He took her hand, pulled her after him. “Come on,” he told her as he led them both over to where the others stood, waiting. 

“Killian, what are you doing?” she demanded, not angry but definitely surprised and confused. 

“Get her guitar,” he called to one of the roadies and he watched as it dawned on her. She looked nervous, but also a little excited. 

“What are you doing?” Liam hissed. Killian only smiled at him.

“They’ll love it,” he told his brother. 

And he knew they would. The crowd would go crazy to see Emma performing with them on stage. They loved that sort of thing. And it would give him an excuse to keep touching her, pull her on stage by the hand, throw his arm around her while they sang - and chalk it all up to performance. He also didn’t hate the idea that singing on stage with them would do nothing but boost Emma’s steadily growing notoriety and fame.  

“They will,” Graham agreed. 

Liam and David didn’t even put up a fight. They knew he was right. It was a brilliant idea. He didn’t know why they hadn’t thought of it earlier. He was more surprised that Emma didn’t resist. But she knew all their songs, he’d heard her singing along many times and right now she was already buzzing with the adrenaline and the rush that always came before going on stage. 

They were handed their instruments and the other three headed off. Killian held back with Emma, wanting to increase the drama and the impact of them coming out on stage together. Thankfully, his bandmates were no strangers to his flare for the dramatic and played along, egging on the crowd before finally signalling him to join them. When he ran on stage with Emma in tow the reaction was electric. 

He introduced her, not that they didn’t already know who she was - their screams were enough to prove that - and asked if they wanted to hear her sing again. They screamed once more. David counted them off and Liam and Graham joined in with a song the fans loved, one where Killian took the lead vocals. 

Emma’s playing blended seamlessly with his own and with the band, as though she’d always been part of the group, and he was once again amazed at her talent, the ease with which music came to her. He took the first verse and the first chorus, Emma standing next to him and knowing already how to play this game, how to make the fans want more. He didn’t even have to signal her when the second verse came around and she stepped up to his mic and took over, her voice ringing high and clear over the crowd. She smiled again as they roared. 

He’d made room for her for the verse but swooped back in for the second chorus, joining her, sharing the microphone, their faces inches apart and while it was, as always, filled with that electricity that sparked when they were near each other, they had nothing but bright, wide smiles on their faces. Even their voices fit perfectly together. 

As Killian watched her sing with him, watched her smile and flirt with him in front of thousands of fans and cameras, he couldn’t help the tightening in his chest. Something had changed. Ever since the night of Liam’s birthday nearly a week ago now, when she’d crawled into his bed and woke him with her lips and her body and she’d let him make love to her like he’d wanted to for months - who was he kidding, for years, she'd been different.

She’d been gone when he woke up, and for a moment his whole body had filled with dread, with pain and loss and disappointment, certain that she’d run again. But then he’d found her in the kitchen, sipping coffee with Ruby and Graham and, when he’d approached her, cautiously, afraid of what he might see on her face when she noticed him, she’d smiled, that same, happy, open, maybe a little bit shy, smile that she’d been giving him ever since, and he felt the dread fall away and the hope take its place. She hadn’t run. 

He’d wanted to ask her about it, ask if she wanted more, wanted what he did, but he knew better. He knew that that question would send her quickly retreating back into the shell she’d been hiding behind when he first met her. It would have to be her move. 

          Technically it was still just sex. There had been no talk of feelings or relationships or desires or exclusivity… but it wasn’t really anymore, was it? Since that night, they’d been spending every possible moment they had together, in his room or in hers and with the others. Yes, there had been a lot of that. But that wasn’t all it was. And even the sex had changed. It wasn’t any less passionate or mind blowing, she didn’t drive him any less mad with wanting and lust, but it had been less rushed, less frantic than it had been before now. They took their time more - she let him take his time more. 

And his favorite part was after. Rather than throw her clothes on and head off or change the subject or find some way to ensure he knew that it was just physical… she lingered. She still left before the morning, still refused to wake up with him, but while she was there she let him wrap his arms around her, stayed in his bed for hours sometimes and let him slowly uncover new bits of who Emma Swan was. 

He was surprised at how many random facts he knew about her now. He cherished every one. Like how she liked hot chocolate more than coffee and that she would sell her soul for a grilled cheese, and that she would try and convince everyone that she liked action movies and horror movies but secretly she loved romances. All of these things had been revealed to him easily, like she was no longer afraid of him knowing who she was rather than just how she fucked. 

But it was more than that. Slowly, she’d started to share with him, share bits of her past, reveal the history that had shaped her into the woman she was. He knew now that she had ended up in the foster system because she’d been abandoned by the side of the road as a baby and never knew her parents. He knew that she had been taught to play guitar by Granny as a way to keep an angry kid out of trouble. He knew that she had been in love once and that it hadn’t ended well. 

She hadn’t told him more than that but as she'd said it, her fingers had traced delicately over the tattoo on his forearm and he knew that this was a pain that had scarred her, changed her. It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together and realise that that someone had been Neal. He hadn’t pushed and she hadn’t elaborated but he knew how much it meant that she’d told him this much. 

Sometimes he wasn’t even sure she meant to tell him any of it but another new thing he’d learned about Emma was that she didn’t do or say anything she didn’t mean, or without reason. And he just hoped that the reason was that she was beginning to trust him - to see in him what he’d been trying to show her from the start. 

He didn’t want to use the word love. It was too fast and too intense but he couldn’t deny the familiar feeling that had taken over him, the one he hadn’t felt since Milah - it was stronger than it had been then. But, like when he’d first met her, the feeling hit him whenever she was near, hard and powerful and overwhelming and terrifying. He understood her fear of love, of trusting others, of being vulnerable and open to being hurt again. He was there too. He just wasn’t strong enough to fight it. 

He could wait. Wait for her to decide what she wanted, let her set the pace and move at one that made her comfortable, one that didn’t scare her off. So long as she kept letting him into her past and her life and her bed and hopefully her heart, he was too happy to care how long it took. He’d waited five years for her. He could wait more.

They finished their song, his ears numb to the cheers and the cries of the crowd, numb to his brother speaking into his microphone, thanking them for their support. All he could see was her, see her smile and the way her eyes were filling with happiness and excitement and the way she was looking at him. All he wanted to do was kiss her. But he knew he couldn’t. Not in front of all these people. That was the surest way to send her running - not to mention the media shitstorm it would incur. 

He settled for throwing his arm around her shoulders, feeling her close and trying to control his reaction to her as he asked the audience to give it up again for her. He caught his breath when her arm slid around his waist as she waved to the fans. He caught his breath again when the lights went down and that same arm slid back down, her hand brushing against his ass in a way that was definitely intentional. Lust flared in him as he looked off after her, making her shape out in the dark as she walked away. 

They were discrete for as long as they could be. Both making their way off the stage carefully, finding their bandmates, congratulating each other. But as soon as their friends mentioned that they had been invited to a party that some celebrity or other was hosting at another hotel a few blocks away, both made their excuses, claiming the need to change, or shower or decompress and promising to meet them there later. 

Killian was sure none of them bought it for a second. Their friends had barely left the hallway before he was being pulled into the dressing room - or maybe he was pulling her, it didn’t matter, both of them were just desperate to get the other alone. 

He pressed her against the door, fumbling for the lock behind her as she tried to shed his jacket from his shoulders. He laughed at her impatience, finally turning the bolt and letting the jacket slip from his wrist. She was already working on his shirt, pushing it up, fingers trailing along his sides and his chest. He let her, lifted his arms so that she could pull it off over his head. He tried not to smirk at the way her eyes raked over his skin, her fingers following their trail from his shoulders to his hips making him shiver.

She reached for his belt and it took every ounce of his strength to rein in his desire. He took her face in his hands, dragging her eyes away from what he was sure was the very obvious bulge in his jeans and up to his. The corner of his lips pulled up at the pure want in her eyes but also - more so- at the way her expression softened when she finally looked at him. 

Her fingers gave up their quest as she tilted her head up, waiting, but not for long because Killian knew an invitation when he saw one and brought his mouth down over hers. She opened immediately beneath him, letting out a little sigh as he kissed her properly, the way she’d just started letting him kiss her, the way he was going to keep kissing her as long as she’d let him. She let out a moan against his lips when he leaned in, pressing his hips to hers and trapping her against the door. He felt her nails dig into his hips and smirked a little.

“You were amazing up there,” he said, leaving her mouth and trailing hot, wet kisses down her neck. 

“Mmm. So were you.”

“Oh really? Because I kept missing chords and forgetting lyrics because someone wouldn’t stop looking at me like she wanted to eat me alive.” He gave a little nip to her throat and she gasped. She grabbed hold of his belt loops, pulling him harshly against her in a way that shot heat right through him, making his head light and it was his turn to gasp as he brought his face back up to hers. 

“That’s because I did,” she told him, her lips brushing his as she spoke. He groaned as she bit his lip, then his chin, her mouth and teeth and tongue slowly making its way down his neck as she proved her point and he wondered how and when she’d turned the tables on him so effectively. Since when was he the one fighting the slow, teasing pace and desperate to rip her clothes off? 

He pulled her shirt over her head quickly before bending down to grab hold of her thighs and lift her up against the door. She let out a squeal as she laughed at his enthusiasm and it sent another wave of want though him. He ground his hips against hers again, trying to gain back some sense of control and watched as her eyes shut and her head fell back against the wood behind her, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Fuck she looked amazing when she was like this. 

He brought his lips back to her neck, speaking against her skin as he kissed and sucked and licked. “Miss Swan, I think you have a bit of a thing for musicians,” he teased, his mouth finally finding its way to the gorgeous, perfect breasts that were hidden from him by her bra. He pulled a cup down, revelling in the sound that came out of her when he dragged his tongue against the stiff peek, before she grabbed hold of his chin, forcing his face away and back up to her. He met her eyes, confused and a little annoyed that she had stopped him, but he didn’t say anything when he caught the open honesty in hers. 

“I-” she paused and he wondered what words were so hard to get out. “I have a thing for one musician,” she said and the words hit him like a mac truck. A thing. It wasn’t a confession of love or devotion or even of feelings. But he knew her. He knew how much even admitting that meant to her, how much of a step that was. There was a nervousness in her expression now that confirmed it. 

He couldn’t have stopped the smile that spread over his face then if he tried, the corners of his mouth pulling so hard his cheeks hurt. But he didn’t care, when he saw the small, hesitant, hopeful smile that crossed her lips in response it was worth it. 

“Good,” he said before kissing her again. He was elated. She liked him. She’d finally admitted it and that was huge. Emma Swan liked him - not just as a friend and not just as a fuck buddy. He felt like he was twelve years old but it didn’t matter as he kept repeating it to himself: she liked him liked him. 

He set her down long enough so that they could get their pants off, both of them laughing as they fumbled to get undressed as quickly as possible but as soon as they were naked he rounded on her again, pressing her to the door and hiking her leg up over his hip. 

Her hand came up to wrap around his cock and he groaned as she guided him to where she was already wet. He cursed, words he hadn’t used in years, ones he thought he’d forgotten as she brought the head to her clit, moving her hips so that he slid against her over and over. Killian thought his heart would explode or his cock would as he watched her take her pleasure with him, the feel of her grinding against him torture - amazing and not quite enough.

He looked up from where his eyes had been locked on her hand around him and found her watching him, heat and desire and softness plain on her face despite the moans that were leaving her mouth and the shudders that were wracking her body. He held her gaze, watching as she slowly brought herself higher and higher, his jaw clenching with the strength it took not to come right then and there. His hand found her breast, thumb brushing and teasing her nipple and her eyes fluttered shut. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Swan, please,” he begged. She nodded almost frantically. He could see how close she was, her eyes screwed shut and her lips parted as she breathed heavily, faster and faster. She guided him to her opening and he pushed himself in, moaning at both the feel of her hot and wet and tight around him and at the way her eyes flew open, a gasp leaving her as she grabbed at his hair with one hand and his shoulder with the other. 

He hiked her leg higher over his hip, both of their breaths hitching at the sensation before he started moving. It would be quick. He wished it wouldn’t be but he was so worked up, so close and so desperate to just have her and take her and bring her there that he knew he couldn’t last. He brought his hand back to her breast, his palm grinding against the sensitive nub as he tried desperately to get her where he was, to make her fall apart before he did.

He kept his thrusts slow but deep and purposeful, feeling her nails bite into his skin each time his hips met hers again. He was shaking, every nerve ending in his body on fire as he moved inside of her. His hand on her hips would leave bruises but he couldn’t care - he might later but right now it was making her cry out as she rocked against him, meeting him thrust for thrust and he just couldn’t bloody care. There was just her, nothing else mattered. 

She pulled his head down, meeting his lips in a desperate, sloppy kiss as they both tried to kiss through the pleasure and the gasps and the cries that were leaving them. They were barely kissing, more a pressing of mouths, a mingling of breaths and teeth as they rose higher and higher but she didn’t let him go, keeping him there, keeping his lips to hers and the idea that she wanted to be kissing him while she came was enough to send him over the edge. 

He cried out, the sound muffled by her mouth as the intense wave hit him, his arm wrapping around her, pulling her tight, needing to feel every inch of her against him as he rode this new height. She keened, her cries coming faster now and it took everything he had but he needed to bring her over the edge. 

He redoubled his efforts, the look of her and the sounds she was making enough to keep him hard and desperate enough that he could thrust into her at a breakneck pace for a few more seconds. She was so close he could feel it and he brought his lips back over hers, giving her everything he had, and she fell, her walls tightening and fluttering around him and her moan breathed into his mouth as every muscle in her body tensed.

They stood for a moment, still pressed against one another, lips still touching but too exhausted to move as they breathed heavily into one another, his cock still buried to the hilt inside of her as they both leaned against the door for balance, for support. He could feel her legs shaking under his hands. He wasn’t faring much better. 

He felt her fingers brush the side of his face, trail along his cheekbone and then scratch through the scruff of his beard. He forced his eyes open to look at her. She was watching him with the strangest expression on her face. A small, secret smile tugged at her lips.

“What?” he asked, wanting to know what was making her look so… proud? Amazed? Interested? Happy? He couldn’t read her and that was new for him. 

“Nothing,” she said, her hand continuing it’s exploration of his face. Her thumb was at his chin now, dipping into the dimple there. “I just really like the way you look after you come.” She said it quietly, almost dreamily and it was a second before her whole face flushed red, eyes widening as she fully realised what she’d just said. 

He could have teased her but he didn’t, decided to go easy on her. It had been a big day for confessions on her part and he didn’t want her to feel any more vulnerable than she probably already was. He hummed. 

“Feel free to make me look his way whenever you please,” he told her, bringing his lips to hers and stealing another kiss before she could say anything in retaliation. She didn’t fight him, let him kiss her, likely too tired to take part in their usual banter. He couldn’t help but feel smug about that. Finally, he forced himself to pull away, smiling at the way she chased his lips for a moment. “We should get going,” he told her. “The others will be waiting.”

She sighed and he laughed but she nodded in agreement and they slowly pulled apart before gathering their clothes and dressing. Killian was surprised but tried to keep it from showing on his face when they headed down the hall to the exit and she reached for his hand. His heart beat a frantic staccato as her fingers laced through his. 

She held it all the way to the hotel. He half expected her to drop it, to jump away from him when they arrived at the party, where their friends could see, but she didn’t and his heart soared, happiness and excitement singing through every muscle in his body, making his blood race. She didn’t even flinch when they made their way into the room and Mary Margaret spotted them, running over. Killian was too distracted to notice the wary look on her face.

“Did you not get my text?” she asked and Emma frowned. 

“No, why?” Neither of them had checked their phones since the show.

“I think you should go,” she said, her voice worried and nervous. 

“What? Why?” she asked.

Killian was as confused as Emma when he heard the sound of Ruby’s voice, louder and more aggressive than was reasonable for a party. They both looked over, ignoring Mary Margaret’s ‘Emma don’t’. He wasn’t sure what was going on. Ruby was standing with the rest of their friends, all of whom seemed uncomfortable and confused. There was another man with them, someone Killian didn’t recognize but Ruby was looking at him as though she wanted to murder him. 

He felt Emma’s hand drop from his and turned to her. She was frozen, her breathing becoming erratic and her face twisting in shock and… pain. He could feel the panic radiating off of her. “Emma? What’s wrong?” he asked, his hand coming to her back, trying to soothe her but not knowing what ail to soothe.

The man spotted her and made his way over to them. Killian watched as Emma’s face changed from the panic that had been there a moment ago to a blank, empty expression. It was almost eerie how quickly her walls had shot up, like he could see the moment she locked herself away again. The man had reached them now. He didn’t look like anything special but Emma’s reaction, as well and Ruby and Mary Margaret’s told him something was seriously up. 

“Hey, Em, long time,” the man said casually, giving her a friendly smile. Emma stared at him for a moment, her face impassive, not showing any hint of reaction besides the hard, guarded look that was already in place. He wanted to say something but didn’t get a chance before Emma bolted, turning and pushing her way through the guests, heading out the door. Killian was frozen for a moment, surprised by the turn in her mood.

“You need to leave,” he heard Mary Margaret tell the man. Killian shook his head, looking up and seeing the door close behind her. Shit. He had to go after her. No matter what it was, he had to go after her and be with her. Something was wrong. 

“She’s overreacting,” the man said and he paused.

“Get the fuck out of here, Neal,” he heard Ruby spit and Killian inhaled sharply, finally putting the pieces together. Of course. He reeled back around, facing the man with rage already starting to burn in his chest and through his limbs. 

“Oh, so you’re Neal,” he said to the man. 

Neal stepped forward, holding out a hand. “Yeah man, nice to -” Killian didn’t even think. His fist collided with the man’s face with a force that sent him to the ground. Killian stood there, shaking out his hand, pretty sure he’d broken a knuckle. It didn’t matter, not when he saw the man out cold on the floor, his jaw already swelling dramatically. 

“Killian! What the hell!” Liam started but he didn’t listen, he was already running off after her, out the door and then down onto the street. He needed to find her. ‘His name was Neal’. He remembered that first confession, remembered the way the song had ripped his heart out, had laid it bare for all to see, remembered the pain and the anger and the abandonment in her lyrics. Fuck. Fuck. He had to find her. 

It was nearly an hour before he did. He checked every bar he could until he found the right one. He knew Emma. They were too much alike. While she might not have the same problems he did he knew that the first place she would go would be somewhere she could try and drown her pain, try to mute it - just as he would. When he arrived, the bottle in front of her was already half empty. He took a seat on the stool next to her and she looked up at him, pain and embarrassment and longing in her expression. She looked away quickly, turned back to her glass. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” she told him. 

“Yes, I should,” he said.

“You can’t be here,” she was insistent but there wasn’t any real fire in her voice, it was too empty, too lost for that. 

“Why not?”

“Because I need to drink my way to the bottom of this bottle and you can’t do that with me.” She paused, turning to him a bit more seriously, something making its way through the glassy haze in her eyes. “I won’t let you do that with me.” 

His heart stuttered in his chest a little. There was hope, hope that she hadn’t completely rebuilt those walls she’d finally let down, hope that she still cared about him enough to not run scared when she came out the other side of this. That part of him itched, as it always would, for a drink, to commiserate with her. But he fought it off. She needed him and she needed him sober. This wasn’t about him. 

He looked at her now, saw the same expression he’d seen in the mirror too many times when he’d found himself in a bar after what happened to Liam, after what happened to Milah. She was hurting, that kind of hurt that took over your entire body, ached from the inside, clawing at your chest and your throat, ripping it raw and making you feel like you’d never be free of it, like you'd be hollow forever. She may think she needed to be alone right now but he knew that was the worst thing she could do. He couldn’t leave her. 

He was suddenly shaken with the overwhelming urge to hold her, to take care of her, to be there for her however he could. The grief he felt over the fact that he couldn’t help, couldn’t take her pain away, couldn’t bear it for her, made one thing clear. He loved her. He was done denying it. He loved her and he’d do whatever he had to, risk whatever he had to risk to protect her heart, from Neal and from herself. He loved her. He’d been in love with her for five years. 

He put his hand over her own. “I’m not leaving.” 

She sighed and he could see the emotions warring on her face, torn between wanting to push him away and the relief that he’d stayed. He sat next to her, waving away the bartender when he offered him a drink. He didn’t speak, he knew there was nothing he could say that would fix this. But he could be there for her. 

Emma’s eyes glanced down. “What happened to your hand?” He followed her gaze and realized that his knuckles were red and swollen. One of them was split, dried blood caked around it. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I, um… I punched Neal.” 

A small snort left her and she raised the glass to her lips again taking a sip. “I should have done that,” she said wistfully. Killian looked at her with a small smile on his lips, remembering some of the stories she’d told him about her job.

“I don’t think he could’ve handled that.” 

She grinned, looking a little proud. “No, probably not.” There she is, he thought. Neal hadn’t totally stolen her away. 

They stayed at the bar for another hour during which Emma finished the bottle of whiskey. Only then did she let him ease her off the stool and lead her out of the bar. They managed to find a cab and Killian watched helplessly as quiet tears ran down her cheeks the whole way back to the hotel. She let him pull her against his side, let him run his fingers through her hair, but he knew he couldn’t stop her suffering, that it had to run its course. 

When they reached the hotel she was too drunk and out of it to remember where her key was and after a fruitless search of her pockets he gave up and decided to just bring her to his instead. He would sleep on the floor if she wanted him too. 

Unfortunately, his search through her pockets had brought forth a new facet of Emma’s inebriated personality. She turned into a giggling mess, hands groping relentlessly as she tried to cop a feel of, well, all of him. He was doing his best to ward her off while half carrying her to the room but she was so handsy. How does she have so many hands, Killian groaned as he caught one of her wrists only to feel the fingers he’d caught previously sliding against his thigh. 

As he slipped the key into the door she grabbed for his face, desperately trying to press her lips to his as he ducked and turned his head to avoid her. They made their way inside and Killian led her to the bed but she didn’t stop her onslaught. When they reached the mattress she collapsed on it, dragging him down with her. He caught himself with his hands on either side of her face. His legs were still on the floor but she had a death grip on his jacket. 

“Why won’t you kiss me,” she demanded, sounding annoyed and hurt and frustrated. 

“Because you’re drunk, Emma,” he told her, trying to untangle her fingers. He had no luck. She was really much stronger than he’d realised. 

“So what?”

“So you’re not thinking straight. It’s not right.” 

“I kiss you when I’m thinking straight,” she insisted and he groaned in frustration, giving up his efforts to free himself. 

“If I kiss you will you let me go?” 

She nodded, smiling up at him eagerly. He sighed and leaned down and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to her lips. The moment she let him go he stood up. She sat up quickly, looking upset and cheated. 

“No, I mean really kiss me,” she complained, reaching for him again. He caught her hands. 

“Emma, no.” 

His tone must have finally got through to her because her shoulders dropped, the lighthearted, frustrated expression leaving her as the sadness creeped back in. She looked away but not before he saw the tears spilling over. He felt like crap, knowing he’d brought her out of it, hating that he’d had to reject her when she was clearly already feeling rejected enough. 

“I just want to feel good,” she told him and her voice broke his heart. “Just something good.” 

He knelt down on the floor in front of her, pressed his palm to her cheek. “I know,” he told her, and he did. He’d been there, had tried to bury pain and grief in booze and sex and anything else that felt even just a little less awful for a second. She turned into his touch. “You will again. I promise.” She looked at him, her eyes red and wet with tears and he caved, leaning in and kissing her again, carefully, gently, trying to ignore the taste of the whiskey on her tongue. She clung to him like a lifeline but didn’t try to push him like last time. 

“Thank you,” she said when they broke apart. He smiled.

“You never need to thank me for that, Love,” he said, throwing in a little cheek and hoping it would make her smile. It did, but only for a moment. “You should go to sleep,” he told her. “I’ll get you some water.” 

When he returned she had shucked her boots and her jeans and crawled under the covers, sitting and hugging her knees to her chest, new tears staining her pale skin, turning it red and angry. He sat on the edge of the bed, handed her the glass of water. She took a long sip before looking over at where his guitar rested. 

“Play me something,” she asked. He sighed, she really needed to sleep but he was powerless to deny her anything. 

“Only if you finish that water while I do.” She took another long drink and he smiled a little, grabbing the instrument and resting it on his knee. “What do you want to hear?” he asked and she only looked at him for a moment. 

“Something heartbreaking.” He nodded, trying not to show on his face how much seeing her like this broke his heart. Emma wouldn’t want his pity. 

He played her a song. He played her a song that he had never played for anyone before, one he wrote when he was at his lowest, after he lost Milah and he didn’t see much point in anything, couldn’t understand the point of living in a world without her, couldn’t understand how the world could give him a love like that only to rip it away from him. His voice broke a few times as he sang, hit with the overflow of memories, wounds just as fresh as they’d been seven years ago. 

When he finished, she was crying again, no longer the silent tears that had been slowly sliding down her cheeks but harsh heavy sobs that wracked her body. 

“Hey, hey,” he tried to soothe her, reaching for her, cradling her in his arms and pressing soft kisses to her cheeks, her temples, her hair. “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling like an idiot for agreeing to play a song like that when she was this broken. She shook her head, wiping at her face. She was settling now, the violence of her pain having calmed and leaving her with a quieter ache. 

She slid over on the bed, pulling him down with her and he didn’t fight. He lay down next to her and she turned her back, curling up on her side. She reached back, searching for his arms, wrapping them around her. He went willingly, holding her to his chest, placing kisses to the nape of her neck whenever another, leftover sob would wrack her body. He’d thought she was asleep when she spoke. 

“I fell in love with him when I was seventeen,” she started. He kissed her neck again. 

“Emma, you don’t have to tell me. I don’t want you to say anything you’ll regret tomorrow.” 

She shook her head. “I want to tell you.” He felt his heart racing in his chest, bracing himself for this new part of her, feeling unworthy of the trust she was putting in him but promising himself, and her, that he would be. 

“He was older than me,” she continued. “It made me feel special, like I was more mature, more grown up.” He hated that he couldn’t see her face but knew that she probably craved the privacy this position offered her, couldn’t handle him seeing her when she was this vulnerable. He didn’t say anything he just listened. 

“He was an orphan like me, a runaway, and I thought that meant he understood me, that we were the same. He wrote music too so we started writing together. He always promised that we would make it big someday - that we would move to Nashville and get discovered and be rich and famous and have a family together. That was the thing I always wanted - a family. 

“We moved to Nashville when I turned eighteen, Granny wouldn’t let me go before that. I think she knew something about him that I didn’t. But when I was eighteen I said I was an adult and I could do what I wanted and so I left. We lived in shitty motels for a while and I thought it was really romantic.” She let out a scoffing, self-deprecating sound. 

“Then -” He felt her tense in his arms, held her tighter. “Then Neal was offered a recording contract. He came to me with it and told me we had made it and we would be famous and I signed it - without reading it.” Killian remembered the way she had refused to sign a contract with them and from the sound of her voice this was why. 

“What he didn’t tell me was that the guy only wanted him. He didn’t want me. The contract I signed… I signed away all my songs to him. I didn’t find that out till later. He left, telling me he was going to sort out the legal side of things with the record producer and that he’d be back. But he never came back. I waited in that motel room for three days before finally calling Granny to come get me.” 

“I’m so sorry, Love.” He wished he’d done more than punch the bastard now - wished he’d bloody strangled him. What kind of monster did something like that to a teenager - to anyone. His heart broke thinking about how young she’d been when someone had betrayed her like that. No wonder she protected herself so vigilantly. 

“That was when…” she hesitated and he felt a twisting in his gut. Oh god, there was more. What more could he have possibly done to her? He’d already used her, betrayed her, abandoned her. “That was when I found out I was pregnant.”

“Oh, Emma,” he said, the words falling out as he pulled her closer to him. She turned in his arms, buried her face in his chest and he could feel the wetness seeping through his shirt as she continued. “I couldn’t keep it. I was barely eighteen when I had him. I gave him away and I just didn’t look back - I left him to grow up like I did.” 

She looked up at him finally and he wiped at her tears with the back of his fingers, cradled her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You were a kid, Emma.” She nodded but he knew his words were only that - words, that this would likely be something she’d regret for the rest of her life. 

Her fingers were toying with the charms on his necklace now, her eyes focused on them, avoiding his gaze. “It’s why I’m so afraid of you,” she whispered. His heart pounded against his ribs, a hollowness settling in his chest at the thought that she was afraid of him. He didn’t get a chance to speak before she continued. 

“I’m so scared of how I feel when I’m with you. It’s too much and it’s too fast and I can’t stop it like I used to be able to.” His heart was racing again, for a new reason now, hope making his breath catch. “I’m scared because I don’t want to stop it. I want to feel that way and wanting that is scary because…” she was speaking quickly now but paused. “Feeling this way about someone is like handing them everything they need to break you. The last time I felt anything like this was with Neal and look what happened. And that wasn’t even close to how I -” she stopped herself. He didn't push, he just held her.

They lay in silence for a while, holding onto one another and Killian thought of how much she’d just revealed to him, how much of herself she’d trusted him with, how much she’d admitted to feeling about him. He knew how scary it was to be that vulnerable, especially when you didn’t know if those feelings were returned. He needed her to know they were. He needed her to know he was right there with her, just as scared but also just as desperate to make it work.

“I met Milah when I was twenty,” he told her and she put her hand on his chest, over his heart. “I met her when Liam was at his worst, when I was nearly at my worst, and she helped me. She was older… and married,” he admitted a bit shamefully, not of his love for her, but of the blindness with which he’d gone into it. “But she was my whole world. 

“We were together two years and she helped me deal with Liam’s depression, she even helped me get sober for a little while… but then,” he paused. It was always difficult to talk about her, always difficult to remember how he’d lost her. But he wanted Emma to know, needed her to. 

“She was going to leave her husband. She was going to leave him and we were going to get married and start a family and I was twenty-two and it -she - was everything I wanted. But then her husband found out and he-” He couldn’t continue. 

Emma’s hand came up to his cheek, brushed through the hair at his temple and he knew she wouldn’t make him. He took a shaky breath. “He killed her.” He heard Emma gasp before her arms wrapped around him tightly. She sighed his name, pressing kisses to his neck and his shoulders, wherever she could reach. Her touch was like a balm, soothing the anger and the guilt that was stirring inside him.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, her lips against his chest. 

“He tried to blame me. For months I was dragged in and out of interrogation rooms before they finally arrested and sentenced him. They said it was manslaughter, a crime of passion or something but… they didn’t know him. It was murder. He killed her in cold blood rather than let her leave him.

“I got really bad after that. My drinking problem turned into an illness, I cut myself off from everyone for nearly two years. I finally got help when I showed up to Liam’s wedding four hours late and plastered. I was the best man.”

Her hand was on his cheek again, her thumb gently stroking, and he looked down into her eyes. They were clearer than they’d been all night. “I’m not telling you this to compare our pains or for pity. I just want you to know that… I know what it’s like to feel heartbreak and how scary it can be to open yourself up to it again. But if you’re willing to, Emma, you don’t have to worry about that with me. I’m not going anywhere.” He brushed her hair off her face. “I’m in this for the long haul.” 

Emma didn’t say anything, he didn’t expect her to. She’d said more than enough for one night. They’d both left themselves open and raw already. Instead, she turned her face up and kissed him again, the same way she’d kissed him the night of Liam’s party, the kind of kiss that held a promise, one to try. 

He kissed her back for a long while, until both of them felt the exhaustion of the day and of the last hour weighing too heavily on them. He tried to stay awake for a while as he watched her fall asleep but too soon he was pulled under as well. But he found sleep with a lightness in his chest, despite all that had passed between them tonight. He loved her and it seemed - he hoped - that there was a chance she could love him back. He just had to be patient. 

[justanotherwannabeclassic]

One and Done

Years ago and hundreds of miles away from one another, both Emma Swan and Killian Jones' dreams died in a single night. Years later, their paths cross, and those very crushed dreams may be what brings them together.

Author’s Note: I’m honestly shocked I’ve been able to write something, let alone a Modern AU. Credit for me accomplishing this goes to @distant-rose​. You can also read this on AO3.

Rating: M

Content Warning: Mild smut, mild description of traumatic injuries

XXX

The first time she meets Killian Jones, they’re at a cookout held in a mutual friend’s backyard. He has a nice laugh and an even nicer smile, but as they talk over craft beer and hot dogs, she can’t help but think about how she knows of him, about how almost everyone interested in collegiate sports knows his name and why almost everyone else doesn’t.

She’d been in high school back then, with big dreams of college and a future and making a name for herself. She’d been sitting on the couch drinking lukewarm beer, her boyfriend’s arm wrapped around her as he and his roommates cheered on their school. It had been Storybrooke’s first time making it into the NCAA Tournament, and even though no one really expected them to win, spirits had been high. Emma recalls how they commentators spent a lot of time saying Killian Jones’ name, throwing out words like “lottery” and “one-and-done”, terms she didn’t understand that Neal seemed to. Neal didn’t like him, that much had been obvious, his insults growing more cutting as the game wore on and more alcohol coursed through his veins. She’d smiled and nodded, not wanting to disagree. She’d been “lucky” to be there anyway, still more than a little bit in awe that a college guy would be interested in her, so she held her tongue. (She doesn’t hold her tongue anymore.)

She remembers the moment it happened, doubts she could ever forget. It’s one of those moments that’s forever seared into her mind, watching him jump upupup, then come tumbling downdowndown.

She’s a cop now. She’s been well exposed to blood and bone and the many traumas the human body can endure, but that’s now. Prior to that moment, she’d never actually seen bone slice through skin, not to someone living and breathing and in considerable pain. Neal had cheered, said something about being “a regular guy now”. Emma wishes then that she had taken it as a sign of things come, but she’d been sixteen and naive, and she’d just watch a man’s career end before her eyes.

Looking at him now, she can hardly tell that he’d suffered such a traumatic injury on a national scale. The only tell is that he spends so little time talking about himself and instead peppers her with questions about her own life.

“Have you always lived in Boston?”

She shakes her head. “No. Only for the past few years, and that’s because David told me there was an opening at his precinct.”

“Where were you before?”

“Here, there, everywhere.” She doesn’t like talking about her past that much, in inability to find a stable home forever a sore spot. “Name a place, and I probably lived there.”

“Djibouti.”

“What the-- excuse me?” “Djibouti. It’s a country in the Horn of Africa. You said name a place, and I did.” His eyes sparkle and his brows dance when he says this. It’s infuriating. It’s also endearing. “I take it that you haven’t lived there.”

“You never would have struck me as someone so pedantic,” she says, trying to frown but utterly failing.

“I’m full of surprises, love,” he tells her, and his eyes promise something both dangerous and thrilling. But then he shrugs and the moment is lost. “Truth be told, I’m an AP history teacher. Comes with the territory.”

So this is where dreams go to die. High School.

As the afternoon wears on, Emma is surprised that she spends much of the event talking to him. She manages to redirect the conversation away from her, and he seems to respect that. They talk movies and museums, Boston traffic and the insane cost of living. What they don’t talk about is sports.

She tells him about Henry, and he doesn’t blink, but instead takes it in stride. She explains that her son’s favorite subject in English and he prefers not to do math.

“He still gets good grades, though,” she boasts, unable to hide the pride in her voice. No matter how many things she’s done wrong in her life, her son is proof that she can do at least one thing right. “And teachers love him. Really, you should be disappointed he’s not in your district. He’d be your favorite student, no doubt.”

“He sounds like a great kid.” Killian Jones cranes his head, turning to survey the crowded yard. “Is he here?”

Emma shakes her head. “He’s in New York. It’s his week with his dad.”

“A pity. I would have liked to meet him.”

Emma realizes in that moment that Killian Jones has passed a test she never intended to give.

It’s late by the time they leave the cookout, together but not. Killian had taken the subway in, and Emma offers to drive him back to his place.

“Nothing good happens on the train this late at night,” she says, “and, besides, an Uber would be ungodly expensive.”

She ignores the suggestive expressions Ruby throws her way, or the cautious one on David's face. As much as she’d like to pretend they were reading too much into her interactions with Killian Jones, the truth is that they’re not. She knows where this night is heading. Henry is with Neal, and she’s feeling good as much as she doesn’t want to spent the night alone in her empty apartment.

She’s pretty sure Killian feels the same way, and because of that, Emma feels no surprise when he invites her up for a nightcap and he shows no shock when she accepts.

Both her shirt and bra are on the floor before they even make it to the bedroom. She notices the scars on his wrist, but pretends not to, and it’s easy enough when he peels off his own shirt. He no longer has physique of the athlete he used to be, as to be expected, but he is toned well enough. Emma enjoys watching the way his muscles flex as he climbs over.

Like most first encounters, the experience is somewhat awkward, however there is a finesse to his movements that tells her that he knows what he’s doing, and she learns he’s a breast man based on much attention he pays her chest, licking and twisting. When it becomes too much, she urges him down, intrigued to feel just what his tongue can deliver. It takes some time, but he follows her instructions, and that is something she appreciates just as much as the way his tongue laps at he clit and his fingers curl inside of her.

He’s smug when she finishes, less so when she wraps her hand around his length and begins to move. It doesn’t take long for him to reach for a condom, and even less time to tear open the foil packet and sheath himself. Emma gasps when he slides into her. Though she isn’t the biggest fan of the feel of sex with a condom, it’s far better than any of the alternative so she focuses instead of the pleasant stretch of the cock and the way his pelvis presses against hers when he slides into her again and again.

After he comes, they take turns in the bathroom. He beckons her to join him back bed, offering an old pair of shorts and a t-shirt as pajamas. Emma has an excuse on the tip of her tongue. She’s normally not one to stay the night, but something inside her to accept. It’s only after she’s dressed that she notices the word “Wildcats” printed across in blue block lettering, and her stomach twists.

In bed, they spoon her back to his front. As she lays over his bicep, Emma can’t help but trace the silver scars that adorn his wrist.

“Sports injury,” he tells her, his voice soft.

She could play dumb, pretend that she knows nothing about him. It would be easy. Emma Swan has never done anything the easy way.

“I know.”

Killian tenses. “So you have heard of me.”

“Back then, when it happened, I was dating a guy who went to Storybrooke. I watched it on TV.”

“Oh.”

“I’m pretty sure that was the night Henry was conceived too. I think that’s why I remember it so well, because everything changed that night. I just didn’t realize it at the time.” She winces once finishes, not wanting to actually downplay his trauma. She hopes he didn’t take it that way.

“Well, I guess something good came out of that night.” He doesn’t pull away from her, but Emma can feel the rigidity of the muscles. “Is that why you came home with me tonight?”

“No,” she tells him. She thinks she should be offended by the question, but she isn’t. Instead, she finds herself hoping he believes her.

“They would, you know, right after. Plenty of pity fucks for the sad, broken basketball star.” Killian’s voice is more sad than angry, and Emma understands what he’s telling her isn’t to hurt her, but instead his own way of venting, of working through the pain. “In Lexington, when you wear the jersey, they treat you like a god. All the girls want you, and the guys want to be you.”

“And after you hurt yourself, that went away?”

“No, actually. They don’t forget you there. Not even the walks on, some of them still do camps even. But that’s why I had to leave.”

“Because you didn’t want to be reminded of what you lost,” she finishes for him. She considers turning to face him, but doesn’t. It’s easier this way, not having to having to look into one another’s eyes and make their deepest confessions. “Before I lived in Boston, I lived in Portland.”

“Oregon?”

“Maine. I moved there after I finished high school, but before I had Henry. I told myself that it was because Portland likely had better opportunities for a single mother like me, but really it was to get away from Storybrooke and everything.” Neal had wanted nothing to do with her after she’d told him about her pregnancy. He’d been pissed she refused to abort. It was only when Henry had been a toddler that Neal had waltzed back into his life, and that had only been because of his fiance-now-wife Tamara.

She’s not sure why she’d telling him all of this. It had taken years before she’d gotten the nerve to tell everything to Mary Margaret, but here in Killian’s arms, the words fall easy. Maybe it’s because he understands. Maybe it’s because his life also irrevocably changed that day. She’s not sure why, but what she does know that in this moment, she feels safe.

He must feel the same way, because he whispers, “What kindred spirits are we.”

It takes everything in her not to laugh, because he sounds so incredibly poetic, and she’s the exact opposite. “I was going to say we’re both fucked up, but we’ll go with that.”

“Yeah, we’ll go with that.”

That don’t say anything after that. Slowly but surely, Emma finds herself drifting off the sleep, and she is welcomed by peaceful dreams.

[welllpthisishappening]

Oh can you do a boxing fic? Please! I can picture a sweaty Killian boxing and showing off for his girl and a bunch of pre and post boxing celebratory kisses?!

HELLO ANON, THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY INBOX FOR WEEKS AND I AM SORRY FOR THAT. AS REPAYMENT, HERE ARE QUITE A NUMBER OF WORDS WHERE EMMA AND KILLIAN’S FRIENDS TOTALLY WANT EMMA AND KILLIAN TO DATE, BUT EMMA AND KILLIAN CAN’T BELIEVE THEIR FRIENDS HAVEN’T NOTICED THEY ALREADY ARE. JUST LIKE...WITH BOXING. 

Also on Ao3 because this also got pretty long. I don’t know, guys. 

The hospital lights are giving her a headache.

They’re bright and abrasive and everything smells like disinfectant, which, honestly Emma figures is probably a good sign regarding the cleanliness of this hospital, but she’s far too worried about everything else to be worried about that.

She’s not even sure if she’s supposed to be worried about that.

This was not part of the plan.

At all.

There was no plan.

At all.

“We should be back there,” David hisses, not for the first time and it’s an absolutely horrible attempt at keeping his voice down.

Emma licks her lips, ignoring Mary Margaret’s furtive glances. Mary Margaret keeps glancing at her. Emma’s tongue is going to dry out.

That’s the single worst thing she’s ever thought.

“We can’t get back there yet,” Ariel says reasonably, slumped in one of the waiting room chairs with her legs stretched out in front of her. She mutters a rather pointed curse under her breath when Will nearly trips over her feet. “Well, watch where you’re going then.”

“I didn’t actually say anything,” Will points out. “And the Detective is right. We should—“

“—We can’t. You know that. David knows that. They’re doing tests or making sure he’s not concussed or whatever.”

“He’s definitely concussed,” David mumbles, and Emma’s stomach gives an uncomfortable lurch. Mary Margaret is still staring at her.

Ariel, somehow, slumps even further down. It ends with her kicking Will in the the ankle, a growl on his lips and he’s a blur of movement and Jones-branded clothing, ducking down to grab her legs and swing them over his when he sits down. “Don’t move,” he commands, but the words ring a little hollow when it’s clear how worried he is.

It’s definitely a concussion. At best. Or worst. Emma has lost her grip on the English language.

Ariel sticks her tongue out. “Do you think we should call someone?”

“Like who?”

“Everyone he knows is here,” David chuckles, drifting closer to Mary Margaret like there are magnets involved. Or love. Definitely love. “It’s—well, if we were he's emergency contact, we would have gotten called already. Right?”

Will shrugs. “He’s been in there for awhile.”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

Emma hasn’t really been paying attention, far too preoccupied with the less-than-encouraging placement of her stomach in regards to the rest of her internal organs and how much she absolutely hates the lighting in that hospital, wondering if her worry is too big or too meaningful, and she’s so caught up in her own thoughts that she almost doesn’t notice her phone ringing in her pocket.

It doesn’t matter. Her friends do. Loudly.

“Em,” Mary Margaret says, nodding towards the buzz lingering around Emma’s right thigh. “You’re…your phone is ringing.”

She must nod. She’s sure she nods. She hopes she nods. She does, at least, tug her phone out of her pocket, arm heavy when she pulls the stupid, still-ringing piece of technology to her ear and Emma’s voice scratches its way out of her throat.

It’s more abrasive than the hospital lighting.

“Hello?”

Her voice shakes. It’s the worst.

“Emma Swan?”

“Yuh huh.”

“This is Belle French from NYC Health and Hospitals in Coney Island. I’m calling because Killian Jones listed you as his emergency contact. Unfortunately I have to tell you that Mr. Jones has been admitted here after sustaining some injuries during his fight and—“

“—Is he concussed?” Emma interrupts, well aware of the four sets of matching and equally wide eyes that stare at her. Ariel curses when Will grips her legs too tightly.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that over the phone, but if you’d be able to—“

“—I’m here.” Emma should stop interrupting Belle French. It’s rude. “Um, sorry. I’m just—well, I’m standing in the waiting room. Currently.”

“Oh,” Belle says, a note of genuine surprise there and Emma can’t blame her. It’s reflected on each of her friend’s faces as well. “Well, that’s…efficient.”

“Yeah, that’s me for sure. Does this mean I can come back there?”

“Can we go back there?” Will asks sharply, Emma waving him off.

Belle makes a noise on the other end of the phone. “Give us a few more moments. The doctor is still with Mr. Jones, but I’m sure he’ll want to see you soon.”

“The doctor?”

“Mr. Jones. He’s been asking for you.”

Emma’s stomach flies into her throat. “Ok,” she says, quieter than she wants and more emotional than she probably should be, but the punch had landed and she’d definitely gasped and—“Ok,” she repeats. “I’ll be here.”

“Good.”

The phone feels impossibly heavy in Emma’s hand, weighing her down and somehow making her head ache even more. They’re all still looking at her. Mary Margaret’s shoes squeak when she takes a step forward.

It was raining out.

Figures.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret says, stretching her name out into an impossibly long string of syllables. “What’s going on?”

**

“Ariel, listen, I don’t care how much you think we’ll get along, I don’t want—“

“—I have no idea if you’re actually going to get along. I’m cautiously optimistic and I just think it could be interesting.”

Emma glares, eyes thin enough that it’s difficult to make out the self-satisfied smile on Ariel’s face. “I’m not interested in being your science experiment either.”

“That’s not what this is,” Mary Margaret promises, but that’s exactly what it is because this is far from the first time something like this has happened.

“Gimme that.” Emma leans forward, grabbing whatever it was Mary Margaret had been drinking and the alcohol stings the back of her throat. “What is this guy’s name? And, like, his life story?”

“I promise it’s far more interesting than you’re expecting.”

Emma spins on the spot – nearly falling off the stool in the process and her eyes widen. He grins at her.

That’s the first thing she notices.

It’s calm and easy, a quiet sense of self confidence that’s attractive and a little disarming and he steps into her space almost immediately.

She doesn’t move. That may be a first.

“That so?” Emma asks, doing her best to stay casual when it feels like her heart is about to beat its way out of her chest.

The smile widens. And his hair drifts towards his brows when he nods. “Decidedly.”

“Huh.”

“That’s not quite the rapt audience I was hoping for.”

Emma chuckles, downing the rest of a drink that isn’t hers. “I guess you’re just going to have to win me over or something.”

He does – although she certainly makes him work for it. His name is Killian Jones, freshly moved to New York a few weeks earlier. He’s a boxer.

“Is that still allowed?” Emma asks, drifting towards the edge of her stool. She keeps doing that, flinching when she realizes she’s about to fall over again, and she’s got a sneaky suspicion it’s because she’s trying to get closer to Killian, but that’s a great, big thought in a great, big moment and Ariel is going to be insufferable if she realizes this set-up worked.

It might have worked.

Definitely.

“Otherwise this has been a very long con,” Killian drawls over the top of his own glass. “That would be disappointing after I signed a lease.”

“A full year?” He hums. “Yeah, I doubt you could get out of that.”

“Exactly. And why fight that when I’m so interested in several other fights?”

“That was funny.”

Killian beams. “It happens from time to time. And what do you do, Swan?”

She tells him – NYPD with David, some childhood dream of doing good and “to serve and protect, right?” he asks with a quirk of his eyebrows that seems to almost immediately brand itself on every inch of her brain. It’s how she met Mary Margaret and, by extension, Ariel, both teachers at the same public school and they’re a group and maybe a family and he tells her things right back.

He’s been fighting for years, “stumbled into it by accident, honestly” after joining the Navy at eighteen and “New York’s always been the goal, or so my manager will tell you.”

His manager’s name is Will Scarlet. He lives in the same building with the year-long lease.

They talk. They drink. They get irrationally competitive about trivia at the bar.

“That is just fundamentally wrong,” Emma shouts, leaning across the table they’ve commandeered in the corner. "Midichlorians aren’t an actual energy field!”

Killian shakes his head. “The Force is an energy field. Obi-Wan says so!”

“Oh my God,” Ariel grumbles, dropping her head onto her forearms like this is embarrassing. It kind of is. People are murmuring.

“Midichlorians are inside humans,” Emma argues. She doesn’t remember standing up. And Killian’s whatever, it’s a smirk, it’s totally a smirk, is very distracting. “That’s how they measure it in Anakin.”

“Are you counting the Phantom Menace as canon?”

“How are you not?”

“Because that’s just fundamentally wrong, Swan.”

“It’s a movie! It’s part of the lore!”

“Are we still talking about this one trivia question?” Mary Margaret asks, making a face when both Emma and Killian snap yes in tandem.

Killian’s mouth twists, which only proves how much Emma is staring at his mouth. “The existence of midichlorians directly contradictions the explanation of the Force in the original trilogy,” he grumbles. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“You sound like an internet fan boy,” Emma accuses. “And that was not the question. The question was just ‘what are midichlorians.’ The answer is human cells in a human person—“

“—What about Jedi that aren’t humans? Are you suggesting Yoda is secretly a human?”

“Oh my God.”

The smirk is back. And they’ve officially run out of time to answer the question.

“You guys are banned from trivia,” David announces, hours later after more vaguely petty arguments and far too much alcohol when Emma has to be at the station at ten tomorrow morning.

She rolls her eyes. “Somehow I think I’ll survive.”

“Yeah, tell me that when you’re upset at missing out on our inevitable glory next week.”

Emma makes a noise in the back of her throat, shrugging into her jacket and Killian’s lingering in her space, that same quiet presence that’s laced with a hint of something she hopes matches up with hers.

“You want to get some coffee or something?” he asks, as soon as everyone else is out of range.

“Yeah, ok.”

She’s nearly twenty minutes late to her shift the next day, the ends of her hair still damp from a shower that isn’t hers and David smiles as soon she drops into her chair.

***

They have every intention of telling their friends. Really. They do.

It just…never comes up.

And both Ariel and Mary Margaret are already in mourning for another set-up that “clearly didn’t work” as soon as Emma walks into the coffee place two blocks away from school.

“I really thought you guys would hit it off,” Ariel shrugs, tugging apart a croissant with a bit more force than necessary. “I didn’t factor in your mutual nerd’ness.”

Emma arches an eyebrow. “Is that an insult?”

“Didn’t it sound that way?”

“She means she thought you would have been able to bond over that, instead of argue over it,” Mary Margaret corrects.

Ariel shakes her head. “No, I did not.”

“I know you didn’t,” Emma promises. There’s not enough sugar in her coffee. “I should probably be more offended by that, right?”

Ariels shrugs again. “Depends on what you say to this, I guess.”

“This being?”

Her phone dings. She typed her number in his phone herself. After he made her breakfast.

He made her breakfast.

“How often Killian will probably be around,” Ariel continues, eyes flitting nervously towards Mary Margaret.

The word ewok was never actually said in the original trilogy.

I think that’s a lie.

Nope, not once. Only in the credits.

I really don’t believe you at all.

Well, that’s disheartening, but it just means one thing.

Which is?

We’ve got to watch the original trilogy now. And you can tell me how much more I know about the Star Wars universe than you do.

Emma nearly spits out her coffee. Ariel’s breath catches, which kind of makes Emma feel guilty, but her friends area also making assumptions and setting her up and—

Her phone makes more noise

What do you say, Swan? Is it a date?

“Em,” Ariel prompts. “Is that—I mean, he doesn’t really know anyone else and he’s got a fight in a couple of weeks. I know, well, he isn’t normal and some sci-fi know-it-all…”

“It’s fine” Emma promises. “And technically Star Wars is really more epic fantasy, just set in space. So, you know…”

Yeah. It’s a date.

***

“That is distracting.”

“Hmm, that might be the point.”

Killian doesn’t look away from the tablet in his hand, film he’s supposed to be watching in prep for tomorrow’s bought. Emma’s pretty sure that’s the technical term. She’s learned some of the technical terms.

“Might be?” he echoes. He shifts when she drags her lips across the curve of his jaw, tracing a line of stubble that regularly and consistently distracts her when she thinks about it too much.

“Pleading the fifth.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works, love.”

It’s not the first time he’s called her that – it’s a thing, she’s come to realize, like watching film of some boxer from Alabama he’s totally going to knock out tomorrow night – but it never fails to make her pulse beat a little more erratically than usual. It’s nice. It’s good. It’s great, even.

It’s still a goddamn secret.

“Should he be jumping around that much?” Emma asks, nodding at the fighter on the screen when he dodges an uppercut.

“He’s not jumping, Swan. He’s making a move.”

“And the move is?”

“To not get hit.”

“Seems kind of strange in a sport so devoted to hitting.”

Killian laughs, tugging her closer to his side until Emma doesn’t have any choice except to swing her legs over his. Or so she tells herself. They should tell someone. Eventually.

It’s kind of become something of a game though, wondering how long it will take their friends to realize that Emma and Killian keep spending the majority of their free time together.

“Boxing is not devoted to hitting,” Killian argues. He’s moving his hand again, fingers drawing absent-minded patterns across Emma’s back and in between her shoulder blades, carding through the ends of her hair.

“I really don’t know if you’re doing it right then.”

“That’s not what I said at all. I’m going to try and hit Chafur tomorrow, but it’s a lot more than brute strength.”

“So says you.”

“It is,” Killian promises, but his voice gets a little strained and decidedly distracted and it might have to do with whatever Emma’s doing just behind his right ear. “Swan, I can’t think when you do that.”

“That is the point. How many rounds you think you’re going to go?”

“No more than five.”

She lets out a low whistle. “That’s awfully confident.”

“You watching this guy? His whole game is to dodge. No attack in him at all.”

“And you think you’re going to do that? Attack?”

Killian nods, brushing a kiss to the top of her hair. “Several very impressive newspaper articles would inform you that I tend to do that quite often in the ring.”

“Newspapers are a dying industry.”

It gets him to laugh again. “Fair,” he agrees. “But that’s not the point. The point is that I’m going in with a plan, love. I’m going to—“

“—Attack?”

She leans back, only a little frustrated because she’s more than a little worried and they might not have told anyone, but Killian has done a fairly admirable job of working his way into the very center of her life very quickly.

A well-calculated attack. But with less punches. And more…kisses. And not really the word attack.

So, nothing like that at all.

“Mary Margaret texted me today,” Killian says, not at all what Emma expects. She blinks. “She’s uh—she asked if she could get another comp ticket to the match.”

“Is it match or bought?”

“Interchangeable. You don’t want to know why?”

Emma shakes her head. Because she knows why. “Is she a teacher too?”

“Yeah,” Killian nods. “Her name’s Aurora. And she’s very nice. And apparently likes to wear cardigans to school. And Mary Margaret thinks it’d be a good step to—“

“—To?”

“Not be hung up on you so much anymore.”

Emma’s jaw drops. She expected that even less. Killian’s whole body shakes when he laughs, a quick kiss pressed to her cheek and another to the edge of her mouth. “Are you?” she asks, barely able to get the words out before Killian finally lands on her actual mouth and she hopes they don’t ruin the tablet.

That would annoy Will.

“Hung up on you?”

Emma makes a noise, not quite the confident, vaguely-flirty one she wanted, but it gets Killian to smile and his eyes to do that flashy thing they do when he stares at her a very particular way and if this is an attack, she’s more than willing to lower her fortifications or however the metaphor should work. Something about blocking, she’s sure.

“Absolutely,” Killian says, but it’s drifting closer to a growl and they don’t watch much more of the film.

***

Aurora is nice. And perceptive. Incredibly perceptive.

It only takes one gasp out of Emma in the third round for her to realize.

“Are you dating him?”

Emma’s eyes bug. That’s kind of an answer. It’s definitely an answer. “Yeah,” she breathes. “For, like…weeks.”

“And your friends don’t know that?”

“Yeah I’m not really sure how that happened.”

Aurora scoffs, but it almost sounds amused. “I’m actually kind of glad. He didn’t seem very interested in saying many things to me before he—what would you call it? Get on stage?”

“In the ring.”

“Ah, see you know.”

Emma’s stomach flips. And flops. “Yeah, I do.”

He wins in four rounds, arm flung into the air by a referee and there’s a smile on his face when his eyes scan the crowd. Aurora laughs again.

And Killian winks as soon as his gaze lands on Emma.

She waits until their friends have moved – Mary Margaret apologizing to Aurora because this set-up didn’t work either – taking a step into Killian’s space. He hasn’t actually put a shirt on yet, a belt hanging over his shoulder.

“You want to make fun of Phantom Menace with me later?”

He barks out a laugh, smile wide and bright and Emma nearly yelps when he all but yanks her against his chest, kissing her hard and heady and it’s so goddamn right, she can’t believe they haven’t shouted it from several rooftops yet.

The Empire State Building was, like, built for feelings like this.

“I’d love that,” Killian says against her mouth. “Give me some to talk to that dying industry, ok?”

“Yeah, ok.”

They barely make it past Naboo before they’re kissing on his couch and taking clothes off and Emma smiles when she pads into the bathroom hours later to find bottles of her shampoo sitting in the shower.

She doesn’t go home that night.

***

“Emma has a boyfriend.”

Several people nearly choke on several different types of alcohol and Ruby looks especially smug at the table that should probably have their name on it now. It’s trivia night.

Emma and Killian have already argued about Harry Potter on three different occasions.

“What?” David balks, gaping at Emma like she’s a totally different person. “Since when?”

Ruby shrugs. “For awhile now, I think.”

“You think,” Emma says. It takes everything in her to keep her voice steady, Killian’s hand drifting over her thigh under the table.

“You’ve been spending less and less time at home. You’re never around. I’m not a cop, but I think I can put two and two together.”

“But Emma doesn’t know anyone,” Mary Margaret objects, mouth dropping when she realizes what she’s said. Killian squeezes Emma’s thigh. “Ok, that’s not what I meant,” Mary Margaret continues. “I just—“

“What’s his name?” Ariel cuts in. “It’s a he, right?”

Emma nods. Killian’s fingers are tapping out a rhythm against her leg now.

“Is it serious?” David presses. “You wouldn’t stay at some guy’s apartment if it wasn’t serious.”

Emma’s pulse speeds up. Or maybe slows down. Whatever it is, it doesn’t feel very human.

“Looks serious,” Will mumbles over the top of his glass. His eyes flit towards Killian, like he’s waiting for the inevitable breakdown. There’s nothing.

“I don’t know,” Ariel objects. “If it were serious, we’d—“

“It’s serious,” Emma says, quick and far too loud and Killian’s hand tightens to a vice-like grip. “It, well—it could be serious. I think.”

He doesn’t move his hand.

“So, uh,” Emma sputters. “I’m going to get some air.”

She doesn’t run out of the bar – which is a metaphorical TKO on the very first punch, but it’s pretty damn close, warmer-than-usual air greeting her on Chambers Street. And she doesn’t want to hope he’ll follow her, but she’s drifting dangerously close to living in hope and he’s got a title defense in a couple of days.

The door slams behind him.

“Serious, huh?” Killian asks, half a smirk and his tongue pressed into the corner of his mouth.

Emma shrugs. “I mean—you bought shampoo.”

“It smells good.”

“Is that weird?”

“That I think your shampoo smells good or that I’d like you to continue smelling good around me for the foreseeable future?”

“Either or.”

“Eh, maybe a little bit of both.” His hands land on her hips when he takes a step forward, close enough that it takes some twisting for Emma to rest her palms on his chest. “They’ll figure it out eventually.”

“I have no idea how they haven’t already. Have we been too subtle?”

“We could start making out in this alley and see if that sticks?”

Emma’s laugh barely has a chance to linger in the air before she’s pushing up on her toes, arms slung around Killian’s neck and that tongue thing he does is almost as potent as his left hook.

“It’s serious,” he whispers, and Emma files that away, covets the words like her own championship belt. And that’s only kind of absurd, but they’ve been secretly dating without even trying and the whole thing is absolutely ridiculous.

“You want to get out of here?”

“Very much so.”

She doesn’t go home that night either.

***

“You’ll be careful, right?”

It’s still early – sun just creeping in through the curtains in Killian’s room, but he’s got a full day of press and pre-match workouts and it takes forever to get from Manhattan to Coney Island in the summer.

“As careful as I can be when someone’s trying to punch me in the face.”

“I thought it was about more than just punching,” Emma says, propping her head on her hand.

Killian grins, flipping his head which only serves to make his hair shift and that’s hardly playing fair at all. “I’m not sure this guy has gotten that particular memo yet, love. Everything Scarlet’s shown me makes it seem like he goes for the kidneys a lot.”

“Isn’t that against the rules?”

“Eh.”

“Eh?”

“Eh,” Killian says again. “It’ll be fine, Swan. I’ve just got to get to him first.”

“Easy.”

“Well, you’ll be there right? Got to impress.”

Emma rolls her eyes, but they both know he’s right. He’s constantly trying to impress. And she consistently is. “Idiot,” she mumbles anyway, flopping back against his chest when he pulls on her arm. “With ridiculous brute strength.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely my calling card. Heavy-weight champion of the world.”

“In this corner…”

“Getting ready to make out with his girlfriend…”

“Just make out?”

He definitely growls. It’s stupid how attractive it is.

And it’s even more stupid how loudly Emma gasps as soon as the first hit lands – straight to the side of his head and it’s not the kidney punch Will had promised. It’s aggressive and maybe a little evil, quick jabs that land every single time until Killian’s stumbling backwards and the referee is calling for both fighters to return to their corners.

They don’t.

The hits keep coming and landing, each one louder than the last, but that may just be Emma’s pulse pounding in between her ears. Her eyes go dry from staring, breathing turning ragged as she tries to remember how important oxygen is to maintain consciousness.

Killian’s steps falter again, doing his best to keep his hands lifted by his ears. It doesn’t work. The guy Emma can’t remember the name of keeps swinging and hitting and the bell rings as soon as Killian’s knees crash onto the ring floor.

She gasps again.

And David curses. Loudly. Mary Margaret might be crying. Ariel is screaming.

“C’mon,” David says, wrapping his fingers around Emma’s and tugging her towards the hallway they left before the spot, reserved for friends and family. She assumes secret girlfriends aren’t included in that.

She doesn’t stumble when she starts to walk.

***

“Em,” Will says, still sitting in chairs that can’t possibly be comfortable. “Who was that?”

Emma swallows before she answers. “The nurse. Belle French.”

“Was her name important?”

“I mean—probably not, but—“

“Ms. Swan?”

She spins on the spot, nearly taking out David in the process and she hadn’t realized he’d moved towards her at some point. The doctor smiles what she assumes is supposed to be a comforting look. “Hi,” Emma mutters. “I’m uh—well, you know who I am.”

The doctor keeps smiling. “I do. And Mr. Jones is out of testing.”

“Is he ok?”

“Concussed, but awake and cognizant and, uh, asking about you. Again.”

Emma’s heart swells. That’s gross. “Can I see him?”

“Can we see him?” Will corrects, hissing when Ariel pinches his side. The doctor nods.

“For a few minutes at least. We’re you planning on staying for some time, Ms. Swan?”

The room is spinning, lights absolutely getting brighter, but Emma feels herself nod again and there wasn’t much of a decision to be made. “Yeah. I’m—I’m not going anyway.”

"Good. Mr. Jones is at the end of the hall.”

She doesn’t run, again, but it’s close, again, feet moving as quickly as her heart and the pounding in her forehead. He’s in bed when she skids to a stop, far too many wires and beeping machines, but his eyes find hers almost immediately and Emma sighs.

Again.

It’s relief that time.

Killian smiles at her. "Not quite my most impressive moment, huh?"

"Ah, I don't know about that."

"Did I fall gracefully?"

"God, I hate you," Emma grumbles, a lie that's worse than anything they haven't told their friends. Killian's lips twitch. "A nurse called me to tell me that you were here. Because I'm your emergency contact."

"Yeah. They, uh—well..." He doesn't finish the thought, doesn't really have to, and Emma's smile feels equal parts unnatural and as normal as breathing. She's only recently just started breathing. “You ok?”

“You’re asking me that?”

“Eh,” Killian shrugs, shifting his arm so he can curl a finger towards her. Emma scowls. “It happened very quickly for me. One knock and it was all over.”

“Yeah, that’s not how I remember it at all.”

“C’mere, love.”

“You’re concussed.”

“Am I? No one’s actually told me that.”

“Killian.”

“Emma.”

She huffs, but it’s not frustration, it’s unspoken everything and the smell of her own shampoo when her hair falls over her shoulder, and taking these few steps forward isn’t much of a decision either.

And, honestly, it’s a miracle no one figured it out before.

So, naturally, the whole lot of them stop in the doorway as soon as Emma sinks onto the edge of Killian’s hospital bed, letting his arm wrap around her when she tilts her head up. To kiss her. With witnesses.

“What the hell is this?” Will shouts, and Ariel’s words are more just general screeching. They’re going to get yelled at by the hospital staff.

Maybe for the kissing.

It can’t be good for Killian’s blood pressure or whatever.

Mary Margaret may still be crying.

“Oh my God, Ruby is going to be so mad she missed this,” David mumbles, working a laugh out of Killian and something resembling a guffaw out of Emma.

“That’s only because you owe her twenty bucks now,” Will says. Emma makes that noise again.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Ok, don’t act offended, you guys were lying to us this whole time. Hey, Hook, glad you’re not dead.”

“He was way more worried than he's acting,” Ariel promises. "It's a defense mechanism."

“Well, I’m also glad I’m not dead, so we’re kind of on even ground,” Killian says. He kisses Emma’s cheek when she turns on him. Mary Margaret definitely sniffles. “And it wasn’t really lying.”

“How you figure?” David asks.

“You guys all thought I was hung up on Emma and, you know, you weren’t really wrong.”

Ariel throws her whole head back when she laughs, leaning back against Will’s chest so she doesn’t fall over. He hooks his chin over her shoulder, studying both Emma and Killian critically.

“Emma said she was dating someone who might have been serious.”

“That kind of sounds like an accusation,” Emma points out.

“It kind of was.”

“Well, it kind of might be.”

“Is,” Killian corrects softly, another kiss that makes Emma shiver slightly.

Mary Margaret wipes her hand under her eye. “Is? As in currently.”

“Yeah,” Emma whispers. She moves again, twisting so her legs on the bed are pressed up against Killian’s and there’s always shampoo in the shower. “Currently.”

“But you didn’t say anything!”

“Trust me, it wasn’t for lack of trying.”

“And then it got to be so long it almost would have been weirder if we brought it up,” Killian says. “It was more fun just seeing how long it would take you guys to realize.”

“We weren’t really being secretive about it,” Emma adds. “Trust me, Ruby’s been going on about it for weeks. I haven’t been trying to hide that I’m pretty all in on this.”

She doesn’t mean to say it. But, then again, she didn’t mean to be in a secret relationship for the last four months and she certainly didn’t mean for her friends to find out about said relationship this particular way, so, really, this should not be much of a surprise.

Killian’s incredibly tense body suggests otherwise.

“Swan,” he mutters, Emma’s teeth digging into her lower lip.

She turns slowly, jutting her chin out in something almost close to relationship defiance. But then she sees the look on his face – that same quiet hope from the very first time she saw him mixed with a hint of the hope she’s been clinging to for months and how much she wants and—

“I love you,” she says, before she can lose her nerve. Mary Margaret sniffles again. “Just—I do. And it’s been easy to and simple too, which, is the exact opposite of anything I ever expected from an Ariel and Mary Margaret set-up, but…” Emma exhales. Killian doesn’t blink. “I was so worried about you.”

He doesn’t move away from her when he lifts his hand, brushing his thumb over her cheek and there are tears that. That should probably be embarrassing. It’s kind of nice.

And, honestly, she expects the kiss. Is ready for it. Wants it. Quite possibly needs it. But it still manages to make Emma’s stomach twist and her heart leap into her throat and there are several whoops from the peanut gallery.

“I love you,” Killian says, nothing extra, no add-ons or unnecessary punches pulled. Just there. Honest and truthful and in front of everyone. “I’m sorry you were worried.”

“Win the next one and we’ll call it even.”

“God,” David groans. “Is this how it’s going to be from now on?”

Emma shrugs. Killian doesn’t let her turn around. “This is how it’s been the whole time, you guys are just horribly unperceptive.”

“Plus,” Killian says, mostly into Emma’s hair. “You were here for true love declarations, so you know—“

Emma’s stomach is a biological marvel.

“True love, huh?”

“Doubts, Swan?”

“None,” she says, meaning it. Killian beams.

And David groans. Loudly. It’s louder when they tell Ruby, a quick exchange of money that she promises to brag about for the rest of time because I totally knew, but Emma barely pays attention, far too preoccupied with making sure Killian takes all his medicine exactly when Dr. Whale told her he had to.

He doesn’t argue. Much.

He argues less when she kisses him.

She keeps kissing him. In his apartment and her apartment and their apartment because, eventually, it doesn’t make much sense to be buying two bottles of the same shampoo. And, again, when he gets back in the ring, a win that goes the distance and requires a decision that Emma announces is obvious, but takes the judges a small eternity to decide on.

She runs into the ring, but Killian catches her around the waist, kissing her like he’s been waiting the whole match for her to get there.

It’s, well, perfect.

Plus, it’s harder to keep a relationship secret when there are cameras and newspapers documenting the evidence. Emma prints out the picture, hanging it on their fridge the next morning while Killian makes breakfast.

[justanoutlawfic]

Pursue what catches your heart: A Red Snowing Ficlet

Summary: Ruby arrives in time to save Snow and David from an eternal sleep.

@queen-of-the-merry-men prompted: Have either of you written a thing where Ruby comes back to town and finds out Emma almost let her parents die to save Hook?

This is a canon divergence of S6, taking place in Awake. Not C$ friendly but also not bashing Hook or Emma really, just critical of how they act in the name of "love".

Also on AO3

Ruby came through the portal, the cool Maine breeze washing over her. The immediate smells from Granny’s diner wavered over her and she could hear music pounding from a nearby bar, while the dwarfs could be seen dancing through the window. She definitely wasn’t in Oz anymore.

 She knew that Granny would want to see her and that she should probably go see her first, but they had time. There was somewhere more important that she had to be.

 Ruby had spent the past year split between the Enchanted Forest, the Underworld and Oz, attempting to find herself and feel at home. Yet, no matter where she went, nothing fit. She thought that Dorothy was her happy ending but as it turned out, the romance was just too quick. Ruby didn’t fit in, in Oz and while Dorothy was kind, she wasn’t the one. Ruby had spent so much time chasing where she belonged, when in reality she had left the one place she did. It was the one place that her two true loves were.

 Snow, David and her had a romance in the Enchanted Forest. It had started off as nothing serious, she just joined their marriage for sex. Overtime, feelings were developed, but before she could say anything, the curse was cast. There was so much drama and over time, she felt like it was just too late. They had missed their window. Snow hadn’t stopped her from leaving Storybrooke and she had pushed her towards Dorothy, so she figured that she didn’t feel the same.

 It had been Dorothy that pointed out while Snow and David hadn’t fought for her, she hadn’t fought for them either. It was time to do just that.

 She walked to the loft where they lived and found their cars parked out front, alongside Emma’s bug. She headed up the stairs and went to knock on the door, only to have it open. God, they needed to get better at locking it.

 The second she stepped inside, something felt off. Maybe it was Emma kissing someone, Hook if she remembered correctly or maybe it was the fact that Regina and Henry sat on Snow and David’s bed, looking as if they were holding vigil. Taking a step forward, the floorboard creaked, causing the four of them to look at her. A smile of relief spread across Henry’s face and he ran to her, hugging her tight. Ruby was caught off guard, but hugged him a bit tighter.

“Ruby! You’re back!”

“I am, kid, yeah.” She gently kissed the top of his head and only then, noticed that Snow and David were asleep. “What’s going on?” She walked over to the bed, Henry, Emma and Killian following behind her. She could see the look on Regina’s face and it sent dread down her spine. “Regina…what the hell happened?”

Regina’s voice came out hoarse and full of regret. “I split myself from my evil half and she poisoned their hearts so they would share a sleeping curse. Only one could stay awake at a time, but it got worse and both of their hearts have failed.

 Ruby dropped down on the bed, shaking both of them. No, no. This couldn’t happen. This wasn’t going to happen. These two had survived so much worse, how could they be defeated by a sleeping curse? Tears sparked in her eyes and she rest her forehead against Snow’s, allowing one to trickle down her face.

“There has to be a way to save them,” she whispered. “This can’t be their fate, not after everything they’ve been through.”

“We had the only cure,” Regina explained. “But…Emma took it.”

Ruby’s head snapped up and she looked over at Emma. “What?”

Emma’s cheeks turned pink. “Killian was trapped in Neverland. The pixie petal was my only way to get back to him…”

 Ruby couldn’t hear the rest of the explanation. She slowly rose to her feet, the anger radiating inside of her. If she had a mirror, she’d be able to see her eyes darkening and her muscles visibly tightening. Snow had explained why they had ended up in the Underworld and she had thought it was selfish of Emma, but let it go. No one else had been hurt by it, as Killian had paid the price. Now, however, it had gone too far. There were other ways to save Killian, she was sure of it. Forget her missed opportunity to be with them, this had been Snow and David’s last chance at life.

 The next few moments were a blur as Ruby’s fist extended and collided with Emma’s face. She stumbled backwards, Killian wrapping an arm around her while he yelled at Ruby. She didn’t even care, she was about to give him a taste of the same medicine, when Regina gently but firmly held her back.

 “He had nothing to do with this,” she said, softly. “He didn’t know what Emma was doing.”

“But she did!” Ruby exploded. “She let them die!”

“I had to save his life!” Emma screamed, holding her now bleeding nose. “You don’t understand!”

“I understand perfectly! I understand that your parents have done everything for you and you keep fucking them over! What about your brother? Did you even think about him?”

 Emma didn’t say anything. She simply swallowed, her eyes growing wide a bit. Ruby looked at the crib, where Neal was waking from his own sleep and fussing a bit. Henry went over, picking up his uncle and cuddling him close. She shook out her bruising fist and turned back to the bed, sitting down beside Snow. Pretending Emma wasn’t even there anymore, she looked back up at Regina.

 “What are our options? There has to be another way.”

 Regina studied her face, until her own suddenly had a smile. She moved around the bed to sit beside Ruby and took hold of her hand.

 “You love them, don’t you?” She whispered.

Ruby couldn’t even hide it anymore. “With everything in me.”

“I know that they love you.”

Her eyebrows stitched together. “What? How…”

“I know Snow White very well. That’s what happens when you spend an entire lifetime chasing after her. They didn’t want to let you go Ruby, and they regret it. They share true love with each other, but I am betting they also share it with you. If you’re willing to take a risk, I think there’s a way that we can save them.”

Ruby quickly nodded her head. “I’d do anything for them.”

“The curse is powerful and it was strong enough to wipe both of them out, but if they shared it with you…it might be enough to wake them up and then they could wake you.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Ruby,” Emma took a step forward, her nose clearly bruising and still bleeding a bit. “This could kill you.”

Ruby’s head snapped up and she glared at her. “Unlike you Emma, I’d do anything to save your parents’ lives.” She turned to Regina. “Do it.”

 Regina nodded and reached into Ruby’s chest, removing her heart. Ruby gasped, placing her hand over its place as she looked at the throbbing organ, mostly red with two telltale specks of black, symbolizing Peter and her mother. Regina turned to Snow and David, removing the halves of the same heart that they began to share shortly before Neal’s birth.

 They looked different. Ruby knew her loves had some darkness in their hearts, but these were purely black and not pulsing like hers was. The sight alone would’ve broken her heart if it was inside her chest. She could hear Emma gasp and start to sob, but Ruby didn’t jump to comfort her. It didn’t seem that anyone did. Ruby did feel for her, in another life she would’ve been her mother and a part of her would always consider Emma her child in some form, but she was so disappointed in her in that moment.

 Regina used her magic to have some potions appear by her side. She mixed something together, gently spreading it over all of the hearts. Ruby’s darkened a bit more with the evidence of the sleeping curse, but Snow and David’s lightened once more, their few sins being the only black dots remaining. Regina turned to Ruby, holding up her heart first.

 “Are you sure this is what you want? There’s no guarantee it will work.”

“It’s worth it,” she said. She looked down at the two of them, giving them each a kiss on the forehead. “No matter what, you two will always be the loves of my life.”

 Regina smiled at her, a true genuine smile and she returned Ruby’s heart to her chest. The last thing Ruby saw before sleep, were Snow and David getting their own hearts back.

Snow had woken from a sleeping curse enough to know when it was happened. Perpetual darkness turned to light and a gasp escape her lips. This time, however, there was another gasp beside her. She turned and found David, starting to sit up, placing his hand over his chest to feel his pulse. Snow instantly shot up in bed. It had been forever since she could gaze into those beautiful blue eyes.

 “Charming,” she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks.

He cupped her face instantly, clearly crying himself. “Snow.”

 Their lips connected and she never wanted to let go. In that moment, the how didn’t matter. She briefly forgot all about the pixie petal and Emma’s drama with Killian. All that mattered was that it was over. Her husband was awake, she was awake. Nothing would ever tear them apart again, she was going to see to that.

 When the two finally did separate, Emma ran to them, catching them both off guard with a hug. They returned it and looked up to find Killian standing there looking sheepish. Snow could feel David tense up beside her and she squeezed his hand with her free one, to let him know that it would be okay. They’d talk to Emma, about everything. Now that Killian was back, it was time to have a conversation about exactly how these two had treated them. She realized that she had given Emma the pixie petal and felt an immense wave of guilt. That had been the wrong choice and she knew it. Yet, without it…

 Snow looked at Regina, who’s arm was around Henry with baby Neal in his arms. “How did you do it?”

“I had some help.”

 Regina gestured to the floor, causing the two to pull apart from Emma. There laid Ruby, her eyes closed and hand over her chest. They both dropped down on either side of her, checking her over.

 “What the hell happened?” David asked.

“She showed up shortly after Emma saved Killian,” Regina said. “She shared your sleeping curse, so you’d be able to wake up.”

Snow bit her lip, pushing back a lock of Ruby’s brown hair. “But…why…” She swallowed at the same time David did. They thought that Ruby’s feelings for them had vanished, but they had remained, just as theirs had for her. “Oh, Ruby��”

“You can wake her up. If this worked, that means that True Love’s kiss should, between the three of you.”

 David and Snow exchanged a look, before smiling themselves. They kept their hands clasped together as they each bowed their heads to kiss a temple a piece. A rainbow ripple fell over the loft and yet another gasp could be heard, followed by Ruby’s beautiful green eyes flickering open to greet them. David and Snow helped her sit up, before gathering her into their arms. She hugged them back instantly.

 “You’re okay,” she whispered after a long while.

“Because of you,” Snow said, pulling apart to put her hand on Ruby’s cheek.

“You still love us,” David added, biting onto his lip as he kept his grip on her.

Ruby tilted her head. “Of course I do. I always have, always will. I just didn’t think…”

“Letting you go to Oz was a mistake. We only did it because we thought it’d make you happy.”

“Dorothy’s a nice girl and all, but…she’s not my Prince Charming…” She looked over at Snow. “Or my Frosty.”

Snow giggled in spite of her tears. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“I know, and we’ll have time. I’m back for good.”

“Really?”

“It’s what I came back to tell the two of you, before I found you the way you were.”

 Ruby’s eyes drifted to Emma. The blood had stopped, though the bruising had continued. She did feel a slight twinge of guilt, violence was never the answer, no matter how angry.

 “I’m sorry I punched you,” she said.

Emma bit her lip, looking anywhere but her. “Thank you for saving my parents.”

“We have a lot to discuss too, Emma,” David said. He looked between her and Killian. “All of us do.”

Killian shook his head. “Trust me,” he whispered. “You won’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“Killian!” Emma’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“This isn’t right, Emma. Look at how many lives we hurt. You let your parents die to save my life. Do I really bring out the best version of you?”

Emma furthered the bite on her lip. “I just…I don’t know.”

“Like you all said,” Regina stepped in. “You have a lot to discuss. And we’ll take Neal, so you can do that.”

 It wasn’t worked out in one night. There was lots of arguing and back and forth. Emma was in denial for a pretty long stretch of time, not wanting to admit she had a problem. It took her and Killian sitting down, listing everything bad that had happened as a result of them, to make her realize the truth. He took up Nemo on his voyage around the sea and Emma gave him her ring once again, trading it in for therapy sessions with Archie and her parents, both solo and family. She had a lot of work to do, but she wasn’t unredeemable.

 Ruby, David and Snow took their time too. They talked a lot, fought a bit themselves over why they let it take so long but eventually, they went on a date, followed by another. Ruby was staying with Granny when she first returned, but once the final battle had been fought and Snow and David were looking to buy a house, they invited Ruby to look with them.

 And one year later, Snow dug out Eva’s old ruby engagement ring, ready to officially make Ruby her and David’s wife.

[mayquita]

You’re My Best Friend (1/4)

I know, I know, I'm the worst. I should be working on one of my multiple wips, but instead, I have not only decided to write this story but I've turned it into a new wip. This was meant to be a little story, written as a birthday gif for my best virtual friend, Sara, but as usual, I got carried away and the small one-shot has become a multichapter.

Maybe I should wait to post the full story, but I think @saraswans deserves more for her birthday than a simple imageset, so here's at least the first part. (Still, this comes ten days late) As good news, the second part is almost finished, I will post it at the end of the week. The bad news, I don't know when I will be able to finish the rest, but I will try to make it as soon as possible.

(This is unbeta'd, so I apologize in advance for the many mistakes and nonsense)

Summary:  Emma shares her passion for Queen with her best friend Killian, with her son and with the rest of her friends. What will happen when Henry encourages them to participate in a Queen karaoke party? Will Emma (or Killian) finally dare to express her (or his) hidden feelings through the lyrics of a song?

Rating: T — Words count: ~1500 — A03 — Ffnet

Special Queen Karaoke party at The Rabbit Hole.

Don't miss it!

"We have to go, mom!" Henry almost shouted, bouncing excitedly in his seat, while holding the flyer with one hand and putting it right in front of Emma's eyes.

Emma and her son were in Granny's sharing their traditional Sunday brunch with the rest of their friends. Henry had not only gotten flyers for her, but he also was handing out one for each of them, while hastily commenting on ‘ how cool it would be to get on stage and pretend to be Freddie Mercury for once.’

She wasn't surprised that her friends welcomed the news of the event with enthusiasm while humming in approval. In fact, if there was something that her group of friends had in common, it was their passion for Queen, a passion that her twelve-year-old son had also acquired and that had even increased after watching Bohemian Rhapsody, the movie, a few months ago. Since then, Queen's songs played at all hours both in her apartment and in her car.

Emma had even come to almost lose interest sometimes. After hearing the same songs over and over again, it was as if, somehow, Queen's magic had begun to fade, becoming a repetitive background sound. That weird feeling hardly lasted, though. It could always be worse. Henry could be a reggaeton fan or whatever the latest style of music was, Emma reminded herself, wrinkling her nose in disgust and turning up the player's volume even more, letting the lyrics of Don't Stop Me Know drag any vestige of another kind of ‘music.’

"Henry's right, I don't even remember the last time we went out together at night. It will be fun." Of course, Mary Margaret would agree with the plan, both her words and the wide smile that appeared on her face making it evident.

"And my dear granny can babysit Leo and Roland." Ruby added pointing to the smaller children. Leo, David and Mary Margaret's son, was one of the reasons why they had reduced their nights out. The adorable baby was barely eight months old and kept his parents busy and exhausted all the time.

Roland, on the other hand, was Robin's five-year-old son, David's best friend. Robin's wife, Regina, had adopted him shortly after their marriage �� his first wife had passed away when Roland was just a baby — and now the three of them formed a cute little family.

Ruby, Emma herself, and her best friend Killian —who wasn't there yet, by the way— remained the only singles in the group. Although all of them had known each other for many years, the new additions made it increasingly difficult for them to relive their wild nights from the past, having to settle for Sunday brunch instead. But at least they managed to meet once a week, without exception. That was something Emma valued more than anything, after so many years living alone, with no one to care about her, or no one to take care of. Until Henry arrived, that's it.

For that reason, the idea of spending a night with friends, without responsibilities while enjoying their favorite music was too tempting to turn it down. The possibility of seeing Killian take the improvised stage to perform some of her favorite songs, even if it was a karaoke version, was a bonus that she could not ignore.

Only when her son started talking again, trying to choose the most appropriate song for each of them, Emma realized that she might not be able to witness the event. She shook away the incipient sense of disappointment with a subtle movement of her head, deciding to act instead as the responsible mother she was (or that she should be at least)

"Sorry, kid, but I'm afraid we're not going to make it."

Henry's head snapped around looking for her, the confusion marked on his face. "We? How's that?"

"You're twelve buddy, which means you're not allowed to be in a bar at night, and since your potential babysitters will be all there, I'm afraid we're going to have to reject the proposal."

A flash of disappointment crossed his face, his brow furrowed while he hurried to whine, "But mom, it's a Queen tribute karaoke! We have to go! We need to go!" His lips drew a dramatic pout as he put his hands together as a sign of prayer. Emma should have imagined that Henry wasn't going to give up so easily. She was about to reply when Ruby got ahead of her.

"I'm sure Granny won't mind watching him, even he can help her with the little ones." She offered while she ruffled Henry's hair in an affectionate gesture.

Before answering, Emma saw out of the corner of her eye how her son pulled out his phone and started typing. A few seconds later, a wide grin blossomed on his face. "Problem solved. Avery has offered to have a sleepover in his house, so mom, don't worry, I may not go, but you're going."

"Where are we going?" Her heart skipped a beat when she heard Killian's voice. Her face turned automatically in the direction of the sound to find her best friend had just arrived. Although his lips drew a soft smile the moment their gazes met, the dark circles under his eyes and some deep lines of expression indicated the tiredness accumulated after having to get up early on Sunday.

She also didn't overlook his deliberate use of the ‘we ’, as if they were part of the same pack. Well, to be honest, where was the lie? Except for sleeping —even they had slept together on some occasions. Just sleep — and working, they did almost everything together. That's what best friends were for, to share the good and not so good moments, right?

He approached their booth, dropping into the seat next to her and letting out a heavy breath.

"You're late. Tough session, I suppose?" Robin asked.

"It has been a bloody nightmare." Killian ignored the disapproving glances that both Regina and Mary Margaret directed at him and continued talking after a short pause. "Anyone remind me why I teach sailing to preteens." Realizing his mistake, Killian addressed Henry immediately. "Don't take it personally, lad, you're much smarter and well educated than all those spoiled brats."

"Teaching sailing is your passion." David reminded him.

"And in your own words, young people assimilate information much better because they have fewer concerns in their minds." Emma quoted. It was true, Killian's passion for the sea and sailing was well known to all of them, as well as his extraordinary patience when he tried to pass on his knowledge to little children.

Most of the young students adored him — and also many of their mothers and some fathers, by the way. — Emma had witnessed several displays of affection and admiration from them. But she better than anyone else knew that sometimes children could be exasperating.

"Okay, okay, I get it." He sighed as leaned even more against the back of the seat. "It's easy to forget it sometimes, especially when two of those little scoundrels decide to get into a fight for any nonsense." Killian dragged a hand down his face and rubbed at the scruff on his jaw as if he wanted to erase the vestiges of the previous altercation. "Anyway, now that the nightmare has finally ended, I prefer to occupy my mind with something more agreeable. So where are we going?"

Henry handed him one of the flyers as he explained. "It's in two weeks from now, and we've all agreed to go."

His face lit up as his eyes fell on the flyer, though he quickly schooled his features, directing a glance at Henry through his narrowed eyes."We?" His gaze drifted for a second to Emma as he arched an eyebrow subtly. She replied with an almost imperceptible shake of her head. One more sign of their unwavering friendship was the ability to understand each other without the need to talk, she thought as a warm sensation spread through her body. "I'm afraid you won't be able to join us this time, my boy."

"Oh, come on, Killian! It's a karaoke party! With Queen songs!"

He was persistent, she would give him that. But he was also behaving in a somewhat manipulative way, trying with Killian since he knew in advance that he had a soft spot for her son. "Nice try, buddy, but don't forget that you already have plans with Avery."

"Fine," He huffed, raising his arms and then dropping them in an over-dramatic gesture. "But since I'm not going to go, at least I'll need graphic proofs of what will happen."

That she could guarantee. She would be in charge of taking pictures and videos, since she wouldn't sing. It didn't matter that Queen was her favorite band, that she would be surrounded by friends or that it would be nothing more than karaoke. No way was she going to get on top of an improvised stage to perform. That wasn't happening.

//

The Henry of this story is a little inspired by my own son, who is also twelve years old and a little obsessed with Queen (just like his mother...)

A tiny teaser from the next chapter: "It's a shame, because there's a song that suits you perfectly."

Thanks for reading :)

[lilacmoon83]

The Convenience of Love

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Summary: Regina laments losing her friend Mal to her mother’s evil, finding that she has been turned to stone. Robin promises they’ll find a way to turn her back, while Rumple tells them they have the curse and must get it back. Meanwhile, Snow and David continue to enjoy their honeymoon. And Killian Jones returns to the Enchanted Forest after many years absence with his daughter Alice in tow.

Chapter 4: A Vicious Plot

Regina looked at the stone dragon with tears in her eyes.

"This was my mother…" she said angrily, as Robin put his arms around her.

"I'm so sorry, my love," he soothed. She sniffed.

"This is my fault. The only thing Mal did was be my friend. She was trying to be better, you know," Regina said.

"She regretted the way her relationship with Aurora fell apart and that she cursed her," she added.

"I know...but she may still be in there. She was only turned to stone. We shall seek answers and if it's possible, we'll change her back," Robin told her.

"They came here for a specific reason though. They have it," she stated. His brow furrowed in confusion.

"They have what?" he asked.

"The scroll that has the spell to cast the Dark Curse," another voice said and they looked over to find the Dark One standing there.

"You…" Robin said, recognizing him from an earlier altercation he had before Marian died.

"Easy...he's the one that helped David find Snow when my mother and her father cursed her," Regina admonished. Robin looked at him with scrutiny.

"Why would you of all people help Snow and David? And what did David have to do for your help?" Robin questioned. Rumble giggled and Regina sighed.

"He had to sneak in here and hide something for him. Fortunately, Mal was understanding," she answered for him.

"Yes...and I need Snow White and her Charming prince alive...and procreating," Rumple added. Regina rolled her eyes.

"Could have done without knowing that," she muttered. Robin shook his head.

"Okay...but what is this curse? It can't be the one you told me about," he admonished. But she nodded.

"It is…" she confirmed.

"And if they cast it rather than Regina...then it would be very bad for all of us," Rumple replied.

"I told you that I'm not casting it for you! I would have to crush Robin's heart and that's not happening!" she spat. There was a gleam in Rumple's eyes that told her that he knew something she didn't, but then that really wasn't unusual.

"Well, you're in luck, because I no longer want the curse to be cast. I want you to help me stop them," he replied.

"Since when?" Regina questioned.

"Since now...things have changed, as the future often does. We need to stop the curse now. That's all you need to know," Rumple answered.

"Which means we need Snow and David's help," she stated. She hated having to burden them with this, especially during their honeymoon.

"They're at his mother's farm. We know the way, but we must be careful. We cannot allow Leopold or Cora to find it," Robin stated. Rumple held out his hand and conjured a vial in his hand.

"Drink half of this each and it will conceal you in your journey," he said, as Regina took the vial and they prepared to journey to Ruth's farm.

~*~

David's face lit up at the sight of his wife bringing some water out to him.

"I thought you might be thirsty," she said, as he quenched his thirst.

"I was...thank you," he replied, as he pecked her on the lips.

"Mmm...I think I'm a bit hungry too," he purred.

"Mmm...you just ate," she purred back.

"Not for food," he said slyly, as he kissed her deeply. She moaned into his kiss and her arms encircled his neck, as he pulled her flush against him.

"Come on...let's go for a walk," he suggested, as he put his shirt back on and they joined hands.

"Into the woods?" she asked coyly.

"I thought so...and I know a little swimming hole nearby that I used to frequent," he replied. She bit her bottom lip.

"But we don't have swim clothes," she teased. He smirked.

"We're not going to need them," he responded and she giggled, as they headed off into the woods for a romantic respite.

~*~

Leopold gazed out from the balcony overlooking his Kingdom and then back at Cora.

"So we have the spell now. How are we going to cast it?" he questioned. She smirked.

"We're not...we're going to force Snow to do it," she replied. He looked at her with a questioning look.

"And how pray tell are we to do that?" he inquired.

"We give her no choice. We wait until she has something even more precious than her husband to threaten and then we make her crush his heart to cast our curse," Cora revealed. His eyes widened.

"You want to wait until she births a bastard child by that shepherd?" he asked.

"Yes...it will be perfect. In fact, I suspect that noble Prince Charming will even offer up his heart if he thinks it will protect Snow and his child. Then he will be gone and we will mold the curse into whatever we want," she revealed. He mulled those thoughts over for a moment.

"I do like the idea of ridding my daughter of that idiot in the process," he agreed.

"But we have no idea how long it could be until she is with child," he reminded. Cora smirked.

"Oh with those two, I'd say it won't be long," she replied.

"Then I guess we just wait," he said.

"Mmm...they will come for us and try to steal the curse away once they discover that we have taken it from Maleficent," she warned.

"Then I will increase our soldier's patrol," he offered, as he left to carry out that task, while Cora mused about their plan.

"Soon Regina...you'll be my dutiful daughter again and I can rid you of that forest dwelling riff raff. And your whore of a sister will be put back in her place," Cora cooed to herself.

~*~

Snow moaned sensually, as he kissed her lazily and they waded idly in the water. Her legs were still hooked around him and he was still inside her, as they slowly came down from another powerful bout of lovemaking, this time in the swimming hole he had frequented in his youth. As always, it was amazing and they were determined to make the best of their honeymoon.

"Oh David…" she uttered breathlessly.

"I love you so much…" he said in a husky tone, as he kissed her again and she tilted her head, as his lips moved to her neck. Their lips met again and then parted, as she pressed her forehead against his.

"I never imagined I could be so happy," she mentioned fondly, as she looked at him fondly.

"Me either...my fear was that George was going to make me marry someone I didn't love. He's not a good man," he mentioned warily.

"I know...and I know the only reason he allowed our union was because he knew he would get my Kingdom for it," she mentioned. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry...you know I've never been comfortable with that part of this whole thing," he said. But she shook her head.

"My father is out of power and as bad as George can be, he's a far cry from mine. And I really could care less about the Throne or riches, you know that," she said, as she slipped her arms around his neck.

"You're all I want or need," she assured and he smiled.

"It may be a business transaction to my pseudo-father, but for us, this is love," he agreed. She smiled.

"True love…" she said, as their lips met again. Peculiarly, a bird landed on a branch above them and chirped incessantly. Snow could tell it was trying to talk to her in the back of her mind, but her husband's lips on her neck was making it very hard to concentrate. Until the bird got a bit louder and he raised his head, as they looked up.

"What does it want?" he asked, with a bit of irritation. She smirked at him, knowing that he did not want them to be interrupted. But she frowned at his message.

"It's from your father...George. There's been some sort of development in the whereabouts of Cora and Leopold," she said. She had taken to calling him by his first name, for he had violated her in a way no father should ever and therefore she no longer considered him as her father. He groaned and scoffed.

"Leave it to George to interrupt our honeymoon," he grumbled, but she smiled.

"Like we need to be on our honeymoon to enjoy our marriage bed," she reminded. He smirked and pecked her on the lips.

"Touche," he agreed, as they got out of the water, dried off, and got dressed again.

"Will your mother be really disappointed that we have to go back early?" Snow asked, as she bit her bottom lip.

"A bit...but she'll understand. We have a Kingdom to rule and I'll admit, if this is a credible lead and I can put Leopold in a cell...then I'm very eager to do that. And she'll want that too," he said, as he cradled his face in his hands.

"Part of me will not rest while he's out there and threat to the love of my life," he added, making her melt beneath his touch. They started back and she hooked her hand on his elbow, while leaning against his arm, as they walked back to the farm.

~*~

The Jolly Roger surfaced through the portal and Killian Jones turned the wheel to steady her. He smiled down at the small blonde girl, as he placed his hands over hers and let her think she was helping to steer them.

"You're a natural, starfish...you'll be an expert at sailing the seas in no time," he boasted.

"Just like you, papa," Alice said fondly and his heart clenched. They had been through a lot and he was no longer the ruthless pirate he had once been. He spent the last several years raising his little girl inside a tower where a witch had trapped her. But fortunately, he finally found a way to free his little girl from the trappings of the tower. He found his way back to the ship and they sailed through a portal with the bean he had managed to acquire. This would be their new life and he saw the surprise in those that frequented the docks, as he brought the ship in. It was understandable, for it had been many years since he had been seen or heard from.

"Captain...is that really you?" Smee asked in surprise.

"Mr. Smee…" he greeted, as he carried Alice off the ship and they shook hands.

"Captain...no one has seen you in years. You've been presumed dead...Blackbeard controls the seas," Smee informed him.

"And years ago, that would have bothered me, Mr. Smee. But as you can see, my priorities have changed," he responded.

"Yes...I must say I am quite surprised myself," a voice cooed and he saw Cora there. Gently, he prodded Alice behind him and gave the woman a warning look.

"I am no longer interested in your games, Cora," he warned.

"No games Captain...I'm just here to chat," she replied.

"And is your depraved husband with you?" he questioned.

"No...I knew you would find his presence disturbing," she responded.

"He's a sick man and it's no secret what he did to his own daughter. As a father now...he disgusts me even more," Hook replied.

"Yes...you certainly have changed and I want to do the same. My daughter hates me...and I only want to help her see that we can have a good life," Cora said.

"Well, as long as you're married to the man that violated her sister, she'll want nothing to do with you," he replied.

"But there's a way we can have a better relationship. There's a way we can have a fresh start, as can you and your little one," Cora tempted.

"It's a place where that witch could never find you," she added, as he turned to look at her.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"There's a curse...a curse that can take us away from here and to a new land. If you help me, I can promise you and little Alice a very good, safe life," she replied. He thought about it for a moment, but then shook his head. He knew Cora well enough to know that there were people that wouldn't have good lives though and he was no longer that man that sought revenge and inflicted pain on others.

"Tempting, but Alice and I will do just fine here," he responded, as he took his little girl's hand. Cora smirked knowingly and expected his rejection. But it didn't matter. He would run off now to find Regina and tell his old friend of her proposition. It was all part of their plan.

"Where are we going, Papa?" Alice asked. He smiled down at her.

"I have some friends in this land," he told her, as they began their journey to Sherwood Forest.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Taking Back Neverland--Chapter 5 of 10

Pairing:  Captain Swan

Rating:  G or a soft T

Summary: AU. After actress Emma Swan’s lead role in a popular TV show is at an end, she is offered the leading role in the Regina Mills film, Taking Back Neverland, a fresh retelling of the Peter Pan story.  It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.  Only problem?  She’ll be starring opposite Killian Jones, who she positively can’t stand.  (Originally part of my Fluffy Fridays collection.)

Previous chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4)

Notes:  So this is an old story, originally written about 3 years ago as part of my Fluffy Fridays collection, but @kmomof4 made the amazing above pic-set for it as a birthday gift, (Thanks Krystal!  It’s perfect!), and I decided it was time for a reissue.   Enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Alright everyone!” Leroy shouted. “That’s a wrap for the day.”

Emma took a deep breath and let it out, slowly transforming from Anna Swan back into herself. She glanced at her watch as Leroy droned on with his reminders about the schedule for tomorrow. 5:00.   That was the earliest they’d ever wrapped for the day.

Regina was giving them a night off. This was a day to mark on the calendar. (Leroy said it was because they were ahead of schedule and the day’s shoot had gone unusually well, but…well, Emma suspected the reason for the early wrap had more to do with Robin visiting the set and asking Regina for a date. Whatever the reason, Emma wasn’t complaining.)

“Hey Emma,” Mary Margaret said, coming up to join her, “David and I were thinking about getting some dinner at The Big Bad Wolf. Wanna join us?”

The Big Bad Wolf was a favorite of the cast and crew. A little diner run by a no-nonsense lady known only as “Granny”, it had good food and an even better atmosphere.

“Sure,” Emma said, “I don’t think we’ve hung out since filming began. Sounds good.”

“Great!” Mary Margaret said. “How about we meet you guys there at 6?”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “You guys? Mary Margaret who exactly is coming to dinner?”

Mary Margaret looked aside, took a deep breath and then pasted on the fakest smile Emma’d ever seen. “Well, you…and Killian.”

“Mary Margaret!”

“Now, Emma,” She said with a placating gesture of the hand, “just…calm down. You know Killian doesn’t really have anyone and it’s sad to think of him going home and eating alone.”

“You sure this is really about concern for Killian?” Emma asked, arms crossed. “You sure it’s not, I don’t know, an attempt to matchmake?”

Mary Margaret held up her hands. “In this, I’m innocent. It was actually David who asked him.”

“David, really? Why would David ask him?”

Mary Margaret shrugged. “Ever since the two of them filmed that scene this morning where Hook saves Charming, the two of them have been inseparable. I’m telling you; the bromance is strong between the two of them. You’ll break your brother’s heart if you insist on excluding his new best mate.”

Emma laughed. “Fine; wouldn’t want to break David’s heart. I guess I can endure one dinner; especially since you and David will be there.”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret said, shooting her a thoughtful look, “don’t you think maybe you’re being a little too hard on Killian? I mean, he’s been nothing but a gentleman, far as I can see, and the two of you seem to get along really well.”

Emma felt vaguely uncomfortable, the words hitting home. She dropped her eyes and let out a long breath. “Yeah; he seems like a great guy, but I’ve had experience with people who seem like great guys and…well, you know how that ended up.”

Mary Margaret was silent for so long, Emma finally looked up. The compassionate look in her sister-in-law’s eyes was nearly her undoing. “Not every guy is Neal or Walsh,” she said finally. “Trust me; I know. Your brother is proof of that. Emma, that wall of yours may keep out pain, but it may also keep out love, and let me tell you, love is so worth it. Just a little food for thought.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Killian took another bite of his burger, chewing thoughtfully. The silence in the little booth at the back of the diner was nearly deafening. He’d been flattered when Dave had asked him to dine with his family—and he was not above admitting he was more than a little bit pleased to hear David’s lovely sister would be joining them.

This tense silence was not what he’d been expecting.

Oh things had started out splendidly, the four of them talking and laughing about happenings on set, but no sooner had they placed their orders than Mary Margaret made a mad dash for the restroom, coming back a few minutes later citing a sudden case of extreme nausea. David had promptly offered to take her home insisting Killian and Emma go ahead and enjoy their dinner.

Killian would have suspected shenanigans on the lovely Mrs. Nolan’s part but for the fact she did appear rather green. Not that he minded having a cozy one-on-one dinner with Emma Swan.

But the lady herself certainly seemed to. She hadn’t spoken so much as a word since her brother and sister-in-law had departed some quarter of an hour ago. Perhaps a bit of levity would shake her out of her mood.

“You know,” he said, allowing a hint of ‘Hook’ to enter his voice, “some men would take your silence as off-putting, but I love a challenge.”

The corners of her lips curved up in spite of herself “Really?”

“Aye,” he nodded sagely. “Fortunately, I don’t need you to share. You’re something of an open book, darling.”

“That so?”

He nodded again, the smile suddenly sliding from his face. Aye; he could read her, and right now what he saw written plainly across her face was pain, wariness. The need to comfort, to protect rose up in him once again.

But if he was to comfort, he needed to know what it was that caused her such distress. “Love has been all too rare in your life, hasn’t it? Tell me love, have you ever even been in love?”

She shot him an alarmed look, dropped her grilled cheese, and took a quick sip of her iced tea. Finally, she squared her shoulders. “No. I have never been in love.”

He’d crossed one of her indefinable lines and well he knew it. He sighed. “Look Emma, I’m sorry; it was none of my business. I shouldn’t have pried…”

“No, no,” she said, glancing away again, “it’s fine. I guess I’m just kind of in a mood tonight. I’m sorry I’m so…well, you know, grumpy.”

He smiled reassuringly. “It’s no problem Swan. Your sister-in-law’s illness thrust us into a rather awkward situation. We seem to get on well enough between takes on set. Perhaps we could imagine we’re merely in the breakroom enjoying a much needed rest.”

She smiled. “Sounds good to me.”

His grin turned decidedly wicked. “So, love, since we are on set, I must ask you; how’s the hand?”

Her cheeks took on a delightful rosy hue. “What even was that, Killian? I think I missed the line in the script where you were directed to tie the stupid scarf with your freaking teeth!”

He laughed. They’d filmed a scene that afternoon involving a bit of first aid…and an entire jungle worth of flirtation. Anna had tripped over a tree branch in Neverland’s jungle and cut her palm. Hook, ever the gentleman, had bound up the wound with his own scarf.

He shrugged. “I felt a bit of improvisation was in order.”

“Yeah, well…warn a woman before you pull out that level of smolder.”

“And where would be the fun in that?” he asked with a wink. “I was hoping to elicit a genuine reaction, and you, darling didn’t disappoint.”

She huffed. “Could you just…stop smirking at me like that and pass the salt?”

He couldn’t quite manage the first, but he did pick up the salt shaker and slide it across the table, the action pushing up the sleeve of his black shirt. Emma glanced down, and Killian recognized the exact moment she noticed the tattoo.

She shook a bit of salt on her fries, and then turned speculative eyes in his direction. “Who’s Milah, on the tattoo?”

The pain slammed into him, along with memories of shattering glass, twisting metal and agonizing grief. Self-consciously, he pushed the sleeve back into place. “Someone from long ago,” he finally ground out, hoping his short reply would end the conversation.

No such luck.

“Where is she?”

“She’s gone.”

For a moment, Emma merely looked at him, and Killian got the sudden impression he wasn’t the only one who could read the other like a book. Suddenly understanding came into her eyes. “That accident…the one that was in all the papers a few years back…it took more from you than the use of your hand, didn’t it?”

“For someone who’s never been in love,” he said, desperately wanting to turn the conversation away from him and the most painful moment of his life, “you’re quite perceptive.”

It was her turn to glance away. “Maybe I was once…or twice.”

And they were not pleasant experiences; he could see that plain enough. “What happened love? Who hurt you?”

He didn’t expect her to answer, fully expected a cutting look that ordered him to keep out. But she surprised him.

“First time I fell in love, I was a kid,” she said, picking up her fork and idly pushing her uneaten fries around her plate. “I was, I don’t know, sixteen? A runaway from the system.   Neal was a few years older, experienced, exciting.”

“What happened?”

“Long story short, he was nothing but a petty thief. Maybe he loved me, maybe he didn’t; I’ll never know. But a few months after we started dating, he ran off, planting a couple of his stolen watches in my hotel room. Next thing I knew I was in the slammer and…pregnant.”

He sucked in a ragged breath.

“I was hardly mom material, so I had to give my son away.”

She spoke in an off-hand manner, but Killian could feel the waves of pain radiating from her. He slid his hand across the table and took hers. She didn’t pull away, a fact that spoke of her distress more than anything else could. “I’m so sorry, love.”

She shrugged. “It was a long time ago. I was adopted by David’s mom not long after I got out of jail and things really turned around so…I guess it all worked out?”

He hated to push her, but there was more; he could feel it. Best he take advantage of her temporary openness. “You said that was the first time you were in love. Were there others?”

“Just one more,” she answered. “It was, I don’t know, five years ago or so. I was trying out for a part in that new remake they did of The Wizard of Oz. I met one of the guys who played a flying monkey that first day of try outs. Walsh was his name. The whole him being a flying monkey thing? Yeah, should have been my first clue.”

“What happened with him?”

“We started dating. Things got serious pretty fast, and he even proposed. I thought everything was going well…at least until I got a call back for the roll of the Wicked Witch. He kind of…went ballistic, yelling at me and then storming off. Turns out he wasn’t actually into me at all. He was working for Zelena Mills, who wanted the job for herself. He was supposed to keep me occupied so I couldn’t actually try for the part.”

She fell silent for a moment. “Do you know what the icing on the cake was? It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Me trying out or me not trying out, Zelena still got the part.”

“I’m sorry, Swan,” Killian said, “but if it’s any consolation, I heard Zelena was a nightmare to work with on set. Absolutely bat-shit crazy, that one. I’m not exactly seeing a long and illustrious career for her.”

Emma laughed in spite of herself and squeezed his hand before pulling away. “Actually…that does help. Thanks.”

Killian laughed, and then sobered. “Swan...you deserve better. Better than both Neal and the flying monkey. I sincerely hope you find it.”

“Thank you,” she said, and he could see in her eyes that his words had truly touched her.

He shrugged, scratching at a place behind his ear. “You’re welcome, love. That is, after all, what friends are for.”

“Is that what we are?” Emma asked. “Friends?”

“I’d like to think so,” he said. “I’ve no wish to hurt you or make you uncomfortable. So what do you say, Swan? Shall we be friends?”

She looked closely at him and then nodded, a small smile on her face. “Yeah, I could go for that. Friends it is.”

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “On the Two” (Chapter 8/9) (au)

Summary: He’s one bad trip from ending up in AA, and she’s one performance away from a solid job and moving closer to home. Their paths were unlikely to cross until Camp Hope brought them together. How and why they meet and intertwine is against the odds, and definitely against the rules, but will that really stand in their way? A Dirty Dancing inspired modern au.

Rating: E

Content Warnings: Borderline alcoholism, very brief mentions of past relationships, mentions of the loss of a limb - this fic is primarily tame but I’ll do my best to tag anything that might need tags.

Chapter Specific Warnings: Moping, but otherwise a very tame chapter.

A/N: Well, friends! This is the last regular chapter of the story! The last update will be on Thursday, where we’ll see a bit of an epilogue. I am so happy to have completed this baby and can’t wait to start on the next one. And for any of you who asked, Nobody puts Killian in a corner! (The line doesn’t appear in the fic so I had to put it here.)

Catch it on FFN & Ao3! Or find the previous chapters here on Tumblr!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Honestly, he could be standing in the same spot for hours or days, all he knows is that time passes and he’s unable to move from the spot where Emma told him all in one swoop that she loves him, loves him, and that she’s leaving.

True, they hadn’t talked about what came next or what happens after camp ended but he had honestly thought…

Thought what, you dumb wanker? That you’d not only get the best thing that’s ever happened to you, but that you’d also get to keep it?

He’s not even fully aware of Liam coming back until his brother’s hand is on his shoulder and Liam’s face is right up there in his own repeating his name with a worried look on his face.

“What’s happened?”

“She’s leaving, she… I’ve got to stop her.” As if moving in slow motion, Killian wills his body to move towards the door. He has to get to her cabin. He has to stop her.

“Why is she leaving? Killian, wait. Why is she leaving?”

“She didn’t – she didn’t say. Just told me she was leaving, and that she loved me. I have to stop her.”

“Killian, you can’t go there. Something must’ve happened with the owners, and if that’s the case, you need to not be in the middle of it. I’m going to try to head this off and make sure they don’t eject you, or both of us,” Liam says, grabbing his phone and checking the phone numbers by the door.

“A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets,” Killian says before Liam can even start punching in numbers, and his brother stops in his tracks. It’s a motto they’ve always stuck by in their lives, from when they were younger and onward. It’s what Liam tried to tell Killian day after day after his accident, trying to inspire some kind of action in him.

“Ah, of course. Go figure you finally start fighting back at the exact moment we shouldn’t.” There’s no malice behind the words, and Liam is smiling when he turns back to Killian.

“We could get kicked out,” Killian reminds him.

“Aye, we could.”

“I wouldn’t risk our time here for someone I saw as loot,” Killian reiterates, just in case Liam still thinks this is a roll in the sheets for him.

“Little brother, I knew it wasn’t the night you came back from that dance performance. You already loved her, even if you didn’t want to admit it yet. It was all over your face when I saw you walking down the steps towards us.”

“Bloody hell.” He thinks about refuting it, but really, what’s the point when even he knows it’s the truth?

“Go on then,” Liam says, gesturing to the door with a nod of his head.

Killian gives him a tight smile and moves to leave the cabin, but it’s at that exact moment that Henry walks up with a cheery smile on his face.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jones. I have a message from the owners that they’re on their way. I was already on this side of camp so they asked me to confirm you were at your cabin and they’ll be here shortly. Can I run to the lodge to fetch you lunch or anything while you wait?”

His stomach drops. Not only is he not prepared for this confrontation, he’s worried that the longer he’s delayed, the likelihood Emma will be gone, and he needs to get to her now.

“That’s not… no. Thanks, Henry. Did they specify we both had to be here?”

“They didn’t really say? Just said to say they’d be dropping by. Is everything okay, Mr. Jones?”

“It’s fine, lad. Thank you.” He waves the young man off, turning and heading back into the cabin with a defeated look on his face.

“I have no doubt you could take them on your own, Killian. But I’d rather be by your side for it. Otherwise, I’d go stall her until you could get there. We both know they’re looking for you.”

“Aye,” Killian sighs out, his hand twitching as he longs to pour himself a drink. It’s through sheer will that he doesn’t, but he does grab a bottle of water out of the fridge and chug half of it down before the knock sounds on the door.

He stands far from the door when the Nolans walk in, what with their mixed expressions. The wife, Snow, has a grim smile that looks like pity and disappointment all rolled into one. David, however, looks like he’s looking at the guy that was sleeping with his sister/dance instructor. He swallows hard, trying to stand straight and instill confidence into the situation.

“It’s so nice to officially meet you, even under these circumstances,” Snow says, holding out her hand to Liam first, and then Killian. He shakes her hand, trying to keep his expression as guarded as possible. “I’m sure you know why we’re here. I just wanted to say that for the moment, we’re not sending you out of camp. I am, as I’m sure my husband will agree, an eternal optimist. I like to believe there’s good in everyone, and that every mistake deserves a second chance. That said,” she starts, but David is the one that finishes it.

“That said, if we find any more of your conduct has overstepped the boundaries we set at this camp, then you will be asked to leave.”

Snow gives her husband an obvious look before giving the Jones brothers a smile a little brighter than when they entered. “We can see by our scheduling records that the summer has been quite productive and enjoyable.”

“Maybe a little too enjoyable.”

“David! Ignore him, please. It’s been a rough day for us, as you might imagine. What I meant to say was that it looks like the summer activities have been beneficial for you both and we’re glad you decided to spend your summer here. We also hope you’ll join us for the events we have planned for the final day before you leave.” With a look he can only call encouraging, Snow reaches for David’s hand and (even though it takes an extra pull) leads him from the cabin.

That’s it. No final axe, sure, but certainly no invitation back for the following summer. He hears their cart pull away from the cabin and waits, looking to Liam to see that his brother still supports his decision.

“Go, quickly. See if you can catch her. If it means we leave tonight, so be it.”

He has to wait until their cart turns to the right, heading back into the camp proper before he dashes out, sprinting as if his life depends on it. For the length of the run across the camp grounds, he has hope that Emma will still be there. That he can catch her before she leaves to go wherever she’s going. For goodness sake, he doesn’t even have her phone number. Why didn’t he get that at some point? He has photos of them together, but not a contact spot for her.

His hopefulness dries up when he gets to the cabin, however. The door is locked up tight, and he can even feel that it’s empty. He knocks anyway, hoping for her to come to the door, hoping to see her in one of his t-shirts with a smile on her face and happiness in her eyes. He gives it another minute before he gives up, wandering back down the path to the dance studio and taking a chance that it’s unlocked.

It is, but here, too, there’s emptiness lingering. There’s an envelope on top of the stereo addressed to Ruby, but he doesn’t touch it. Just slumps down to sit by the mirrors where he and Emma regularly sat to each their meals. He sits and collects his thoughts, his breath from the frenzied search, his emotions…

“Shit, she’s really gone, isn’t she?”

He peels open his eyes to see Ruby moving up the stairs. He gestures to the stereo to the envelope and she moves swiftly to grab it. Killian closes his eyes again, listening to the sounds of Ruby ripping the paper open, then her quiet curses as she reads whatever was left behind. When she’s read the contents and grabbed the keyring Killian is very familiar with, she walks over and settles beside him.

“Maybe she just went to Storybrooke to cool off. I heard they only suspended her from the rest of camp but that she was still supposed to dance in the closing night performances.”

“Lass, you and I both know she wouldn’t accept that.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll still call Granny later and see if she checked in. Just in case. You okay?”

“Not really.”

Ruby just nods at this, leaning her head against the mirror behind her as she regards the empty space. “I haven’t had to experience camp without Emma since Neal happened. Did she tell you how they found out?”

He shakes his head, because bloody hell, she hadn’t even fully explained that they did. They only talked briefly about the bad stuff, Neal and Milah’s passing included. But even with the sparse details, Killian knows that Emma regards that as a summer of regret. “I can’t imagine being here without her.”

She reaches over, squeezing his forearm once before her hand drops back to the floor. They sit in silence for a while after that, neither caring much about the time that passes when they both feel the absence of Emma in the room.

When he gets back to his cabin, Liam is sitting on the front steps just waiting. Despite seeing how Killian’s whole stature sags, he still rises and asks. “Well?”

“She was already gone.”

“Killian,” Liam starts, a sigh heavy on the name. “I am sorry. Maybe we can ask the other instructor if she has Emma’s number. Or even Tink – from what I’m to understand they’ve been friendly before.”

“If she wanted to keep in touch with me, she would’ve made it possible. Let’s just… get through the summer. We’ve paid for this. Might as well try to make the best of it.”

“I can-“

“Thank you, Liam. But no. I’ll try harder tomorrow, but for today, I’m going back to bed.”

He doesn’t hear Liam’s response to that, moving on auto-pilot through the cabin and into his room, shutting the door firmly behind himself.

For the next couple days, the best way to describe his behavior is “moping.”

He stays far from the main lodge, mostly because he doesn’t want to interact with anyone else. But also because he fears that he’ll catch David, who has a tendency to mingle there during meals when he has the time, and that he’ll get the absolute shite kicked out of him for sleeping with the man’s sister.

Just at the thought, his heart pangs painfully. He’s not heard from Emma at all. Ruby let him know that she never checked into her grandmother’s bed and breakfast, which means she went all the way home to Boston. He hasn’t asked Ruby for Emma’s phone number, though Ruby swears she left his in a voicemail she left the day after Emma’s departure. If she wanted to be in contact with him, she would’ve made that effort. He’s decided to respect her wishes and just push through the last of camp like it began, like he told Liam.

Except, every time he tries to pour himself a drink, he stops. He stops, he stares at it, and – inevitably, although Old Killian would’ve screamed murder at it – he pours the drink down the drain. It takes him a while but he finds his flask, and as a security blanket of sorts, he slips it into his pockets. As he sits by the water or hides in his room, he pulls it out and holds it, remembering that at the start of all of this he was heading quickly down the path of an alcoholic. And now, he’s sure he could have a drink with his brother, or take a shot on a night out, but he has no desire to return to who he was when he arrived at Camp Hope.

As if to materialize everything that the summer beheld, Killian finds a permanent marker in one of the drawers and scribbles a few words on the outside. If he could say it to Emma, he would, but this will have to do.

He finds himself back at the dance studio just a handful of days before the final activities. It’s not empty this time; Ruby is already there looking frustrated and tired.

“Sorry, love. Send me away if you wish but I just…”

“No, no. Stay. I’m just… I can’t get anything to work. I don’t like the way it looks by myself.” With a huff of agitation, Ruby turns down the music and goes for her towel and water bottle.

He has no response so he sits down on the top step, angled to face into the room while Ruby resets everything.

“I’m sick of working on this,” she declares after another minute, chucking her towel to the floor and dejectedly coming to sit by him. “How’re you holding up?”

“Poorly.”

“Yeah. Same.” She’s silent for a couple minutes, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on top of them. “Hey, you wanna dance?”

Killian chuckles, a soft thing barely under his breath, but still there. A couple months ago, the very thought scared him beyond reason. Now, his body almost misses the movements. He’d noticed marked improvement in his fitness because of the dance lessons, and he hasn’t felt this good in ages.

“Aye. Sure. You’ve can work with this?” He gestures to his prosthetic.

“Yep!” She bounces up, going to pull up the song he and Emma practiced to so many, many times. As he’s done so many times, he goes over to the one storage cupboard and finds the shoes designated for practicing. He changes into them and starts stretching, following the routines he didn’t realize he’d grown fond of until this moment. He places his empty flask on the floor by the mirrors before standing and facing Ruby who’s just finishing her own stretches.

It feels different dancing with Ruby. She’s taller than Emma, her body a different shape, and Ruby doesn’t have the built in knowledge of how to handle Killian’s prosthetic, but she adapts when necessary. It’s similar and yet entirely different, but by the end of the dance they’re both at least smiling again.

“You miss her a lot?” Ruby asks, going and fetching two fresh bottles of water for them as the next song starts playing.

“More than I might be able to put into words,” he divulges.

“You should dance with me at the final show.”

“Lass that’s-“

“A great idea. Think of how it would look to David and Snow if they could see what Emma actually did in the time you spent together. You’re practically the embodiment of the whole damn camp motto right now.”

Killian still hedges, because dancing for some faceless audience is one thing, but dancing for the camp feels like a beast of a different nature.

“You don’t have to wear the costume. Just throw on something that looks good and you can change into your performance shoes before we dance. I have them stashed with the other gear in here. They were uh, left behind. I finally went and packed everything up.”

He looks at her, then. And he sees her missing her friend as much as he misses the woman he fell in love with despite never expecting to. He sighs, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “Fine. I suppose it’ll be nice to have something to show for the whole thing, aye?”

“That’s the spirit! Come back tomorrow and we’ll run it again, just to be safe.”

After agreeing on a time, he changes back into his shoes and heads out, slightly lighter than when he entered just a short bit ago.

He doesn’t notice the absence of his flask, having grown so accustomed to not carrying it anyway. But Ruby flips it over and over again in her hands, a plan quickly developing as Killian’s form disappears down the walkway.

-x-

After another salty day at the studio, Emma returns to an apartment that is just as lonely as she is. The drive home was quiet, the apartment has been quiet, her phone has been (mostly) quiet, and she hates all of it. She could’ve gone to Granny’s and stayed until the closing weekend was over, but she couldn’t be that close to something she didn’t even know she wanted without being able to have it.

It was one part self-preservation and one part running away.

Not only did she go all the way home, she forgot to even give her number to Killian. What was supposed to be the first thing she did one night ended up being a complete oversight. And sure, she can tell Ruby to give it to him, but she’s dodged all of her friend’s calls and texts lately. There are at least three unopened voicemails on her phone. She’s mostly trying to just lay low until everything blows over.

Unfortunately, she’s doing a poor job of coping. The day after she got back, she contacted Graham and let him know she’d be taking back her studio space, and contacted a few of her regular clients that might be ready to start lessons again.

She’s started the list of everything that will need to be done to prepare for the job in Portland but she hasn’t acted on any of it. All of her plans now feel in limbo. The whole point of taking on the Portland job was to be closer to her brother and sister-in-law. Will they even want her close now? Sure, they’re family, but what comes next?

Rather than deal with the headache of it all, she decides that she’ll wait for Ruby to come home so they can handle it all together.

When she gets home from her lesson of the day, she changes immediately into a t-shirt she really didn’t mean to steal from Killian and sleep shorts before collapsing onto the couch. His shirt is the only thing she’s really unpacked, leaving everything else in her massive suitcase, or spilling out of it as it seems to be doing.

Her performance dress is hanging from the coatrack, left there from when she hauled everything inside after she got in. She hasn’t pulled the garment bag off of it, because this time she knows it’s her dress; she has no reason to hope that Killian will show up with the bag and that knowing smile he loved to give her when he appeared late at night, waiting to be invited in.

Maybe she should get ahold of Ruby. Even if the cell reception at camp isn’t too great, it’s as easy as using a process of telephone with Granny.

She feels lost and confused, the most she’s been since she stumbled back home after Neal’s betrayal, hoping to every god that would listen that her family would accept her back with open arms. And it feels like that all over again. Because all she wants is for Snow and David to forgive her, but given their start, she can’t get over her anger. They were barely legal when that happened, and Ruth had actual reason to be upset with them because it was still a camp intended for young adults and children.

Camp Hope as it stands now is decidedly less innocent. That much can be said from staff dances alone, but also by the fact that condoms are on the grocery kiosk list. Guests are always sleeping together. They’re adults; they’re allowed to have whatever fun they choose. It’s not like she and Killian were having sex out in the open. The fact that Keith got a picture of Killian leaving her cabin meant he had to be pretty far off the path to the studio. He always left before the sun was even up, which makes the whole thing even worse.

Yet, despite those facts adding up, David and Snow don’t see anything wrong with Keith’s peeping Tom activities, but at the fact that she was having a completely consensual relationship with a grown man out of the public eye of the camp.

She realizes belatedly that she’s absolutely destroying the take-out menu she’d picked up off the kitchen counter before going to the couch and throws the scraps onto the coffee table. Lifting one of the pillows, she screams into it as hard as she can, hoping it’ll help loosen up the rage that’s built up again.

This issue isn’t over. Even if she doesn’t get to see Killian again – as it seems clear as day that it would only cause more problems if she kept seeing him after what happened – then she and David are going to have this out in whatever way they have to. She can only promise to stay calm as long as she can.

Fuck takeout, she decides, and goes to throw one of their frozen bagels into the toaster.

As it toasts away, all she can think about is Killian. She misses him. She didn’t know it was possible to miss someone so much after knowing them that short a period of time. She buries her face in her hands while she waits, contemplating all her options, until she realizes that several minutes have passed and she doesn’t smell even a hint of toasty goodness.

She looks up, glaring at the toaster before ripping the cord from the wall and prying her still-frozen bagel from its clutches.

What happens next is entirely out of her control and in no way her fault, or so she will tell Ruby when she surveys the toaster guts scattered across the counter and floor. In the end, the toaster, the bagel, and her dignity all end up in the trash and she ends up soaking in a bath.

The day of final performances, she has every intention of hibernating in her apartment, but the buzzer calls to her instead, and she’s letting up someone to hand her an overnight delivery. She smiles at Ruby’s handwriting, wondering what she thought was too vital to wait just a few more days.

When she opens the box, there’s an envelope waiting on top of something small that’s wrapped in tissue paper. Again, the handwriting is Ruby’s. She tears it open, scanning the words on the page.

Emma –

I don’t know the full story, because David only scowls when I ask and Snow is avoiding me, but I sure do miss you already. When you didn’t show at Granny’s, I figured you stuck to your word and went all the way back to Boston. I kept stumbling across this cute guy, though, and I may have gotten him to agree to dance with me for the final number. He’s a good egg, this one. I swiped this from him. Thought you might find it interesting. Say hi to Cap and Thor for me. Miss you bunches!

Ruby

With a half-smile, she sets Ruby’s letter to the side and pulls out the tissue paper. Almost immediately, she can recognize it by shape, but she takes care to unwrap it, letting the paper fall to the table as she turns his flask over in her hands. Unlike the first time she saw it, it’s completely empty and dry, and there’s a message scrawled on the side.

I miss you more than I’ll ever miss drinking.

There’s even a little swan outline done in the same quick strokes beneath the words, and she finds herself breathing hard. The words wash through her, effectively bringing back every single moment they spent together, not only in her cabin but all the time they spent practicing. They weren’t some quick, one-time thing. They were a carefully cultivated partnership that developed over the course of several weeks, probably too many hours, and countless displays of trust and honesty.

She shakes her head, carefully setting the flask down on the table as she considers it. As if she really had a choice.

Without more than a second of hesitation, she stands from the couch and heads to her room, immediately grabbing her overnight bag and the essentials to last for a couple days, just in case. She sends a quick text to her neighbor to watch over the fish once again and grabs the garment bag off the coat rack on her way out the door.

The entire way, the whole four hours, she practices what she’s going to say when she gets there. She’s still repeating it when she pulls into her usual spot. She grabs her bags and heads to her cabin, not really surprised when she finds her keys hidden in a potted plant next to the door. She changes quickly, thankful that she did manage to shower today even if all she does is pull her hair into a ponytail. After a little makeup and one last check in the mirror, she nods at herself and walks to the main lodge, her performance shoes swinging from her hand.

This late in the day and this late in the summer, everyone who’s left is already likely at the lodge for the final camp ceremonies. She looks up to the placard that hangs above the doorway, thinking of everything Ruth did to create this camp and how it brought her right to this moment. Inside, she gets the same feeling she always does at the end of a summer. She doesn’t know most of the people in the room; most of them never would’ve come to try dancing or didn’t have time. Despite that, this crowd is her family. This camp is her home. And no matter what happens next, those two things will never change.

It takes a few minutes of scanning the room to find him, but there’s Killian in one of the corner seats at a table with Liam. He’s dejectedly pushing around the food on his plate, his expression far away and his left arm tucked under the table in what she now knows is a move of self-preservation. It takes some careful maneuvering between the tables until she can get to him, but she ignores everything and everyone else in her path until she’s able to stop right in front of him. His shock is palpable, but his smile is suddenly blinding, and he takes her hand when she offers it to him.

If he’s unsure about her course, then he doesn’t try to stop her, even when it becomes clear as day that she’s heading straight for the stage where David has just stepped up and is describing everything the camp attendees have done and learned during their stays, whether it was for the whole summer or shorter bursts of time. He trails off when he sees her, his expression turning not to anger (like she almost feared he might be) but to bemusement when he sees Killian behind her.

They make their way up, and Emma makes sure to wave to the audience when David introduces them before he puts the mic back on the stand and moves towards her.

“I have a couple things I want to say,” Emma tells him plainly before he can say a word. He tilts his head to the side, considering her request (demand, really), and then grabs the microphone. With her free hand, Emma takes it from him, which is something she never would’ve done on any other occasion. Dance in front of thousands of strangers? Yes. Talk to them? Hell nope. What’s more surprising, David clears way for her to let her take center stage.

“Um, hi. I’m Emma. Many of you know me as one of the dance instructors. But I’m also a long-term camp resident. I’ve been coming here since I was fifteen, and it’s the best and only consistent thing I’ve ever had in my life.” She looks at David after she says this, so that he knows without a doubt. Then she looks at Killian, who is still reassuringly holding her hand and standing by her side despite the fact that she just dragged him up here.

“It’s all right,” he mouths, nodding in encouragement as if he already knows what she’s about to say.

“The night I met Killian, he was so drunk he couldn’t even stand on his own without support. He also threw up on me, but I’m just saying that because I think it finally makes us even.” He throws back his head and laughs at that, his eyes shining with mirth. “I asked for his help when I needed a dance partner willing and able to learn a professional routine, and he was there. He sobered up entirely without me even asking, and he danced better than any other student I’ve ever had before.”

Looking out at the room, she sees faces she recognizes from their years of attendance, and new faces entirely. She takes a quick breath before continuing. “Ruth created this place as a way for people to connect and find themselves. That’s exactly what happened. And yeah, sure, maybe trying to sneak a relationship behind your brother’s back is a bad idea. And no, there shouldn’t be rampant sex between anyone here, but we’re adults. This is a natural progression of something becoming a relationship. This is the purest example of two people connecting over a very respectable length of time before this became something more.” The last part is directed, again, at her brother with her finger raised to make the point. This is everything she should’ve said to them in their cabin that day.

“I found myself,” Emma says, more to David and Snow than the audience. “And I know that’s something you’ve always wanted for me. And Killian,” she says, turning to look at him. “He found himself, too. And I know the rules, and we went about this in a way that you don’t approve, but this is one time I have to punch back and remind you that this is what healing looks like. This place is the closest thing to a fairy godmother most of us are ever going to find. Maybe I can’t convince you with words, so maybe I can show you that this is what Camp Hope is all about.”

When she holds out the microphone, it takes just a second before David takes it from her. He and Snow both smile in a way she knows all too well, clearing the stage as Emma moves to the sound tech with her song choice. She’d set her shoes down on the edge of the stage when they walked up so she goes to retrieve those, relieved when Killian sits down next to her in the wings to slip on his, as well.

“Quite the speech, Swan.”

“Yeah, well, I finally had something to say.” She gets up when her shoes are secured, standing directly in front of him and waiting until he’s done and looking at her again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says immediately, and the way the words sound makes her smile brightly. “Shall we?”

Instead of answering, she takes his hand again and moves to the center of the stage. This is the most relaxed she’s ever been when preparing to perform. When the music starts, they move easily, even with Killian in dark jeans. He throws her little flirtatious smiles as he twirls her, as they come back into their hold and dance the steps they painstakingly worked on day after day. His expression, while he’s still concentrating, morph into the affection she began to recognize somewhere around the time he was laying on a table to have his chest hair waxed off for her.

As their dance ends, the whole audience erupts in applause, and they bow before she pulls him down for a kiss. The staff, she realizes, are cheering the loudest at that, and when she breaks away even David and Snow can’t contain their mirth. David shakes his head, but his smile never falters and he’s clapping right along with the rest of the crowd.

When Emma and Killian leave the stage, David and Snow are right there waiting for them. Snow embraces her, hugging her tightly as David joins in. His hand comes up to cradle the back of her head and she sinks into the touch.

“We’re sorry we didn’t try harder to talk to you about all of this. We’ve held onto these rules for so long, but I think it’s clear that it’s time to reevaluate them and accept that sometimes, the enrichment our guests and staff are here for might not happen the way we expect.”

“And we’d like you to help us outline the new guidelines for next summer, if you would,” David says. “Also, Keith has been banned for repeated violations of sexual harassment, after further investigation. Turns out he was creeping outside a lot of women’s cabins and taking pictures. That’s something we should’ve looking into a lot harder before even talking to you. It was practically dawn when that picture was taken.”

“We can talk about all of this later. And I have some good news, too. I’m moving to Portland, so we’ll have plenty of time to look at those guidelines together. For now, go close down the summer.”

There’s more hugging, of course – she didn’t expect to give them such news without that kind of reaction. But then she urges them out to keep the show moving along.

By the end of the night, Ruby manages to pull Emma onto the stage with her, the two easily falling into one of their routines and earning a standing ovation from the crowd. As the show moves on to something more interactive, Ruby makes sure to pull her aside and give her a big hug.

“I had a feeling that would work,” she says, her eyes as knowing as ever. “He doesn’t realize I sent the flask. Probably forgot he even left it at the studio when I told him he should perform with me tonight. I had a very strong suspicion he wouldn’t be dancing with me.”

“That was a lucky move. Thanks for leaving the keys for me.”

“Again, I had a hunch.”

“It was a good hunch,” she tells her friend, holding her hands in her own before giving her a tight hug. “By the way, we need a new toaster.”

Ruby’s still laughing as Emma makes her way back through the crowd to where Killian and Liam are chatting. He readily hugs her, kissing the side of her head in an easy move and grinning down at her when he’s done.

“So, better than Europe?” she asks, applying gentle pressure with her hand at his waist to start him moving.

“Much. Liam, I hope you’ll excuse us. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Liam halts them briefly to give Emma a hug, a whispered speech of “If you hurt my brother…” in her ear that leaves her smiling because he is such an older brother. And then they’re off, weaving their way through the people to find the exit.

It’s just after midnight when they make it back to Emma’s cabin, leaving before many of the other campers and happy for the distractions so they can slip away unnoticed. Even so, Killian kisses her long and slow outside the door to her cabin without fear of anyone saying anything to them.

He doesn’t sneak out in the morning, either.

Chapter 9

[fallforcs]

I’m Not Dead Yet

Art by: @branlovesouat

Author: @rouhn

summary : Killian Jones is a dying man, he is diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor and so he wants to travel around the world to visit places he always wanted to see before his death. He places a newspaper ad to find a travel partner. David Nolan responds, but it’s not him who shows up a few days before the adventure starts - it’s his sister Emma. 

rating: T (language, topics)

trigger warnings: mention of brain cancer, mention of death

author’s note: To my dear readers! This story is dedicated to Nat who fought until the end and whose last days were the best he could have wished for. This event is a wonderful idea and I am glad I was able to be a part of it.

beta reader + artist: A big thank you to @space-whales. You are a wonderful and honest beta reader and friend who always help me improve my writing skills. Working with you was a pleasure because you make my stories better without changing my style. 

I also want to thank my artist for creating this lovely image set which doesn’t give away too much and the same time shows the beauty of the story behind the sad aspect.

“David, finally we meet in- You are not David Nolan, who are you?” Killian Jones stood on his doorstep, the doorknob still in his hand, surprised not to find his new partner for his three-month trip in front of the door, but instead a gorgeous blonde woman.

 “Hi, I’m Emma - Emma Swan, David’s sister.” The woman smiled at him apologetically and in this moment Killian knew what was going on.

 “He won’t come, will he?”

 Emma shook her head. Killian sighed, turned around and walked towards his kitchen.

 “Uhm,” feeling a bit lost, Emma raised her arm in question but in the end followed him slowly. She closed the door and took in her new environment. The apartment was beautiful, the blue and light grey painted walls a stark contrast to the dark furniture and decoration.

 “Can I offer you a drink, Swan?” Killian’s voice cut through her admiration and Emma found herself standing next to a small bar.

 “Sure,” she took two steps towards the huge window, “your apartment is beautiful.”

 “Thanks, love.” Killian appeared next to her, two drinks in his hand, “it will be available in about three months. Interested?” His casual question made Emma frown for a moment. She didn’t think a simple compliment of his apartment could cause such an answer.

 “Uhm, I’m sorry, I didn’t-” she turned a bit and saw that Killian didn’t seem to be offended by her question.

 “Don’t, Swan, I assume your brother told you about my situation?” Emma nodded and Killian went on. “So he decided to stay here with Mary Clarence?”

 “Mary Margaret. She is not a cross-eyed lion.” Emma snapped but regretted her behaviour when she saw his look. He had every right to be mad at Mary or David but still, Emma didn’t like his attitude.

 “Apologies. So David decided not to go on the journey with me, rather stay with his girlfriend.” Killian tried again but Emma corrected him once again.

 “Fiancé.”

 Killian’s jaw dropped but he pulled himself together quickly. “When did that happen?”

 “A few days ago. Look, I am not here to tell you why my brother isn’t here, I am here to offer you my company.”

 “You want to join me on my last journey?” Killian looked Emma up and down and suppressed a smile.

 “Yeah, buddy, do you have a problem with it? Maybe with me being a woman or me being blonde or I don’t know?” Emma started to get angry, but Killian ignored her outburst.

 “Well, I have to say, a woman as my travel partner is not my first choice, but that is not the reason I am surprised that you want to join me. It’s more– that I am irritated why a successful woman wants to go on a three-month trip, more or less completely cut off from her life here, that’s all.”

 “And why do you think I am successful?” Emma placed her free hand on her hip, the other one still held her untouched drink.

 “Dave told me. He told me a lot about himself, his successful, feisty sister and also his girlfr- I mean fiancé. He only neglected to tell me he won’t come with me.” Killian turned towards the window and sipped at his drink.

 Emma watched him for a few moments. He didn’t seem sick, he seemed healthy, strong, handsome, tall, dark-haired, and Emma could see, fit–as if he worked out as well. The only thing she disliked was his cocky behaviour but maybe this was his protective shield - his wall. She could understand why he didn’t want to let people in and why he held them at distance. She did that too, however for other reasons than being deathly ill. “I am sorry, Killian. Can we start over?”

 “Well, we haven’t really started anything yet, so I assume we can do that.” He sent her an honest smile and raised his glass. Emma did the same and sipped at the golden liquid. When the rum started to burn down the back of her throat she closed her eyes briefly.

 “Too strong?” The amusement in Killian’s voice made Emma open her eyes again.

 “No, I merely enjoyed the taste. I think I’ve never had such an expensive rum before. It’s exquisite.” Emma smiled at him and Killian returned the gesture before he walked towards the bar again.

 “Interesting choice of words, love. It’s called ‘Facundo Exquisito’. Take another swig and tell me what you taste beside the rum itself.”

 Emma stared into the amber liquid before she sipped at it again. “I would say there is something sweet like sugar or no, toffee.” Emma’s eyes lit up and Killian only nodded.

 “Well done. Anything else you can taste?”

 “Call me crazy, but I could swear I taste a bit of Cinnamon and Vanilla too.” Emma swayed her glass before she sipped at it again. Totally lost in the rich and sweet taste, she added with a dreamy gaze. “It’s gliding down my throat like velvet.”

 “And you are sure you are no connoisseur of expensive rum?” Killian downed his rum and refilled his glass, sending her an approving look which made her blush.

 Maybe this could work . At this moment Killian decided to give Emma a chance. He had three days left until the journey started–just enough time to get to know her.

 They sat down and started talking about his plans and about Emma’s conceptions and, after about two hours, they decided to meet again the next day. Killian had a good feeling, as much as he was disappointed by David’s decision, he was grateful that he sent his sister instead.

 Emma was indeed a feisty woman, she knew what she wanted and she also knew what it meant to be on such an expedition. It wouldn’t be a weekend trip or a couple’s vacation. Killian had a plan, a concept and a tight timetable. He had three months left to visit the places he always wanted to go to. His time on Earth was limited and so he wanted to make the most out of it.

 - CS -

 The following day they met again and Killian went through every detail of the journey. He liked that Emma asked the right questions like ‘how they got from A to B’ or’ if they were alone or with guides’. He appreciated that she didn’t ask him many personal questions. He wasn’t ready to open up yet, maybe he would not tell her anything at all, but he hoped that he could share his story with her during their journey.

 The morning of their last day in Boston, Killian woke with a headache. He hated headaches, they were never a good sign. Headaches could mean that the tumour has grown and his time would be up quicker than expected. He took a painkiller and continued packing. He already knew what to bring, it wasn’t the first time he went on such a journey, but it would be the last.

 Emma would be here in a few hours, he had insisted on her coming and staying for the night so they could start their expedition at 4:30 am. He didn’t want to risk any delays and he didn’t know her well enough to trust her word.

 When she appeared two hours later with a huge backpack and two boxes of pizza he let her in with a huge smile. He also had ordered in, but her gesture meant a lot to him. He was surprised that he didn’t have to repack her backpack and that she also had a list of items she carried with her. He never thought she was such a neat freak.

 It was 8:45 pm when Emma decided to call it a night. Killian showed her the bathroom, she deserved one last hot shower. He couldn’t tell her when she will be able to have one again. Emma enjoyed the hot water running over her naked form. Killian didn’t know that she still felt like hot showers were luxury. He hadn’t asked her why she had a different last name than David and she was quite sure David hadn’t told him either. They only were adoptive siblings. Emma had spent her childhood in the foster care system. Living in group homes was an adventure in itself. She was used to eating only small portions or only every other day and showering was something she only was allowed to do once a week and then only with cold water. But Emma got used to it and never complained.

 Twenty minutes later, Emma walked to the guestroom Killian had shown her earlier. The room was bigger than Emma’s first apartment had been. The king size bed was the biggest she has ever slept in and also the most comfortable. However, the most impressive thing in the room was not the bed or the huge window or expensive carpet on the floor, it was the wall behind the bed. There was a huge world map painted on the wall, several places were marked with big red dots and arrows pointed towards these dots.

 Emma kneeled on her bed and studied the wall, she didn’t hear the knock on her door nor Killian entering the room. “Soon this map will be completed.” Emma jumped and turned around.

 “Are you trying to kill me?”

 “Apologies, love, I didn’t realise you didn’t hear me entering the room.”

 Emma shook her head and turned her attention towards the map again. “Killian, this is impressive. Have you visited all of these places already?”

 “Each one with a picture next to it. The rest I will visit with you within the next months.” He smiled at her but Emma still studied the wall.

 “Who are the man and the woman on the pictures next to you?”

 The question stabbed his heart but Killian tried to answer as casually as possible. “The man is my brother, Liam, the woman is Milah. Neither are available for travelling anymore.”

 Emma heard the pain in his voice but she decided not to ask him about it. This was not the time or place to exchange such personal details and Emma wasn’t even sure if she wanted to know. She had tried to think about the end of their journey–about what the end meant, how she would feel after spending three months with him. She didn’t know Killian yet but she had a feeling they would know each other pretty well after their time together. Deep down she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that, she never was good at making friends, always held everyone at arm’s length and she hoped to be able to do the same with him.

 - CS -

 The first week had been a week of getting to know each other better. Killian found out that Emma enjoyed flying but at the same time she was very nervous about hitting turbulence. He also had learned that Emma was stubborn and always wanted to do things on her own - without anyone’s (and especially his) help.

 Their first destination was the West of the USA, it had been the last ‘test’ for Emma and also the last chance for Killian to change his mind about her.

 “So, Swan, tomorrow we will hike a bit, Antelope Canyon is our destination but to get there, we have to take a car and later do some hiking. We will have a guide, Ryan, who will show us the Canyon, explain all the important facts and make sure we are safe down there. Afterwards, we will go back by boat.”

 “Wow, it seems you have everything under control then,” Emma smiled at him and Killian pointed at the map in front of them.

 “Aye, everything is planned, but I always want to make sure you are also comfortable with what I have in my mind. This is important. I don’t want to make the decisions on my own. We are a team from now on and whenever you have a bad feeling or an objection, I need to know that ASAP, all right?”

 “Aye aye, Captain.” Emma mocked him, but Killian ignored it. Slowly he got used to their banter – she would tease him and he would retort with a mix of arrogance and bravado (his usual way of shielding himself from getting too close to someone). He had to admit, he liked being around her. His fear of accepting a female travel partner started to disappear more and more, Emma was a woman who knew what she wanted, who knew what she was doing, and who didn’t seem to fall in love easily. That would be the last thing he needed. He hoped to find someone to get along with, maybe also call a friend at the end of the journey, but nothing more. He couldn’t cope with leaving someone behind who loved him.

 He shook his head to clear his mind and saw that Emma was staring at him with a slightly concerned look. He waited for a moment, but she didn’t ask him if he was alright or did anything else than smile genuinely.

 “Well, I also booked a table for two at Joël Robuchon. I hope you brought a dress in the backpack of yours.” He winked at her but when he saw Emma’s shocked expression, his smile faltered. “Everything alright, Swan?”

 “Did you say Robuchon? Joël Robuchon? The Joël Robuchon?” Killian could clearly see on her face, that she was excited about the news but there was something else he couldn’t put a finger on.

 “Aye, I think I only know one Joël Robuchon. The restaurant we will go to is in the MGM building, also the hotel we will stay at for the night before we fly to Shanghai.”

 When Emma didn’t say anything but only opened and closed her mouth several times, Killian was sure she hadn’t taken a look at the travel documents he had given David and also didn’t listen when he told her about the details before they started the journey a few days ago. “Swan, did you even look at the documents I gave your brother?”

 Emma’s eyes searched his, the answer written all over her face. “I am not the big planner, more the ‘be spontaneous - let’s go’-type.”

 Now Killian couldn’t hold back laughter anymore, he looked at her and shook his head. “Best you take another look before we leave the States. The next few weeks won’t be as comfortable as this week was and is, better you are prepared.”

 He got up and walked towards the door. They didn’t share a room here in San Francisco, but in Las Vegas, he only booked one suite. Big enough to avoid one another (if necessary) but still a single room and one bed.

 Killian was nervous, the next one and a half days were the last days in the States for him. He would never come back here again, it was time to say goodbye to his second homeland. He decided a long time ago that Ireland will be the country to die in. His brother Liam was buried there, his whole family was, and soon he would join them.

 The last flight Emma had to do on her own. He hoped he will be able to show her the beautiful places in his country of birth, but he knew that might be an unrealised wish.

 “See you tomorrow at six-thirty, Swan. Good night.” He smiled at her before he shut the door, quietly pleased when he saw that Emma pulled a green folder out of her bag, the one he had given David before the journey had started.

 - CS -

 It wasn’t the first time in Vegas for Killian, but he never was here before in his free time. Normally he was here for business meetings or workshops, never seeing anything other than the inside of hotels and casinos. This time he wanted to see Antelope Canyon, the Grand Canyon, and the area around Vegas before he finally left the States.

 Killian was surprised how much easier travelling these days was for him. He didn’t have to work on the plane to be prepared for anything, he was able to relax, close his eyes, enjoy the flight. Every now and then he looked at Emma who was staring out the window with a fascination he hadn’t seen in a while. He asked himself how often she had flown before the trip, but held himself back from asking aloud - it was none of his business anyway.

 Seeing her that excited and happy made him happy too. His decision in bringing her, in taking a complete stranger on his last journey, was the right one. He only hoped he won’t regret the decision when they were in China or anywhere else in the world.

 These days travelling was still easy. They didn’t have to carry their backpacks all the time, there were taxis and concierges at the hotel who helped them. All these amenities would end soon, but now they could enjoy their comfortable life one last day.

 A few minutes before they had to leave for dinner, Emma stepped out of the bathroom. Killian’s jaw dropped when he saw her standing in the hallway, fixing the long dress he had bought her this afternoon. She looked breathtaking. He knew she was attractive, that was a fact he couldn’t deny, but seeing her standing there now, with her long golden hair, her smooth, creamy skin, her angelic face and sparkling emerald eyes, her toned body, long lean legs, left him at a loss for words.

 Killian had to shake his head again to focus on the here and now and not to make a fool out of himself by staring at Emma like a this. He stepped closer and took her hand into his before he brought it to his lips and pressed a light kiss on her knuckles. “You look breathtaking, Swan.”

 Emma blushed and withdrew her hand. She looked for the small clutch and grabbed it before she searched his eyes again. “Thank you, you look-”

 “I know,” he retorted and offered his arm. On their way to the restaurant he thought that if he had met Emma Swan before his diagnosis, he could have fallen for her.

 The whole evening they talked at length about their hike to Lower Antelope Canyon and about the next days’ plans including the helicopter flight (which made Emma a bit nervous) and the upcoming journey to China. Not once Killian got the feeling Emma felt uncomfortable, not once he felt like Emma wasn’t the right decision. Later that evening they wanted to visit the casino because Emma had never been in a casino before. It was a fun night with a bit of drinking (Emma because Killian wasn’t allowed to drink according to his medication), gambling, winning (mostly Killian except this one time Emma won and threw her arms around his neck to pull him into a big happy hug) and eventually finding sleep three hours before wake-up call.

 Accordingly, Emma was not as enthusiastic as she had been the prior day. Killian was sure that she fell asleep on his shoulder during the second flight over the Grand Canyon, he didn’t mind at all. This was his last journey but he also wanted it to be a great experience for Emma.

 Their next destination was China. A country Killian had always wanted to visit but never found the right partner to do so. He hated travelling alone, this was the reason he had searched for a companion for this last trip. China was important for Killian. He had two business partner over there who had invited him over and over again, and finally, he was able to grant their wish–unfortunately under different circumstances.

 To say Killian was excited about the visit was an understatement. It was a mix of excitement and eagerness. The trip was planned for the next three weeks. On their last day in civilization, for the next two and a half weeks, they mostly slept and dealt with the jet lag. At night there was a dinner planned with Liáng Bo, one of his business partners, and his wife Feng Mian.

 “Are you sure you want me to come with you?” Emma asked skeptically while she knelt before her backpack.

 “Aye, love. Bo brings his wife, she is an English teacher at Beijing City International School. I met her once and I know you will get along well. I really don’t want you to skip dinner or stay behind in the hotel.”

 “But I really don’t want to disturb your dinner or ruin your business relationship by saying something stupid or behaving wrong.” Emma stood up again, meeting his eyes. He could see she felt uncomfortable but he couldn’t stop the laugh escaping his mouth.

 “Oh love, don’t be afraid of that. I don’t really care what will happen after my death. Maybe Bo will end his partnership with Jones Inc. completely, who knows? But this shall only be an evening among friends, he invited me so many times before and finally, I am able to accept his invitation, that’s all.”

 “Alright,” Emma nodded but Killian saw that she was still not fully convinced.

 “And we will experience the best food in town–Real Chinese Cuisine. Maybe this will be the last time we will dine that exquisitely for a long time. We will take what we get in the next weeks.”

 “Oh, Mr. Spoiled is not used to eating average food? Well, for me sometimes a cheeseburger can be the most delicious meal. So, let’s enjoy the overpriced food we will have this evening and fill your spoiled belly with Blowfish or whatever else counts as delicacies.” She grinned at him and he saw and heard the tease.

 He shook his head and grabbed his suit. “Let’s get dressed or we will be too late. Traffic here in Beijing can be worse than in New York.”

 The taxi ride was quiet. Killian observed Emma closely. Although he tried to not get attached too much, he started to wonder who the woman was behind the beautiful face. His time on Earth was limited, so why not try to get along as best as possible? The next few weeks were the perfect opportunity to get to know her better and if she didn’t want to share, he would not be too disappointed. After all, she was just a stranger who agreed to go on a journey with him, no kind words or bonding needed.

 Dinner had been the most awkward meeting he had ever been to. Bo was convinced that Killian had told him that Emma was his fiancé, he complimented him and her all the time on being such a beautiful and great couple. He wanted to correct him, not only once, but to his surprise, he felt Emma’s hand on his thigh. “Oh, our first meeting isn’t a great story. It was my brother David’s fault. He stood Killian up and so I decided to take his place instead. Ever since we are more or less stuck together.” She smiled at him and he smiled back and Bo and Feng Mian both sighed with a dreamy look.

 He wasn’t sure how far he could go and how much affection she was accepting to fake, so he let her lead. At some point she leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek, excusing herself and Feng Mian. The men decided then to go to the bar and enjoy some drinks. When the ladies came back, Emma stepped closer to him and leaned into him so he wrapped his free arm around her middle.

 Killian didn’t know why she did this for him, but he was grateful. When they had to part, Emma and Feng Mian hugged briefly. Killian could see that Emma really was fond of the woman. Bo and he also hugged. “She is a definitely a keeper,” the man whispered and Killian’s eyes automatically landed on Emma.

 They said goodbye and parted and Killian was sure Emma would let go of his hand any minute. Instead, she interlaced their fingers. “Can we take a walk along the Place? I would love to see the Sky Screen,” Emma asked shyly.

 Killian raised a brow, they had been to Viva Vision in Las Vegas just a few days ago, but who was he to refuse her wish. He nodded and led her down the street where they could already see the bright Sky Screen. It was very crowded, so Killian pulled Emma into his side. She watched the bright screen with sparkling eyes and pressed herself into him so she would not to get lost. Killian couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to how enjoyable the closeness to her was. He asked a stranger to take a picture of them. He hadn’t planned to visit the second largest Sky Screen in the world, so why not capture the moment?

 The next two weeks went by in a blur. He enjoyed every moment of it, every rainy day as much as every hot day. The landscape was beautiful, the guide perfect for their kind of adventure, and the weather mostly played into their hands. If only the headaches would leave him be.

 - CS -

 Emma could see it on his face every time he excused himself to take another pill. He knew that she suspected something. She had gotten to know him a little better but she still avoided talking about the elephant in the room. They talked about their pasts - mostly him, not her. They also talked about their jobs and lives back home in Boston. He told her about his dead brother and the woman on the pictures Emma saw back home, Milah. She had been his first real love, someone who shared his passion for travelling but after one of their journeys together her husband showed up.

 Emma was shocked when he told her that he nearly lost his hand that evening. Milah had told him about her ex, who was in fact not her ex but her legal husband, and Killian thought he could help her leave him. Most of her stories had been wrong, only the fact that he was violent and protective was right. When Killian tried to grab her and flee with her, he hadn’t seen the knife coming. It was a clean cut but fortunately not too deep through his wrist. He lost a lot of blood, but his hand was still attached to his body.

 While he fought for consciousness, Milah and her husband called the ambulance and vanished. Many months later he received a letter from her telling him she was sorry and that he should try to forget her and move on. A few days later, she and her husband were found dead in Texas, she had first shot him and later herself.

 Emma could see it still hurt him to talk about her, so she offered him a story of her own. Why she opened up exactly, she wasn’t sure, but it was easy to talk to him. Maybe because she knew he would die soon, maybe because he was a good listener.

 They travelled with a tour guide, Fa Mulan. When the woman had told them her name, Emma and Killian had exchanged an amused look - unfortunately, Mulan also saw it, but she wasn’t offended. She was proud to have the same name as the girl from the legend, the Disney princess, the one woman that young Chinese girls identified themselves with. It had been fun having her around to tell them all the interesting facts about the Great Wall (Emma never walked that long and far on one single day) and the Zhangye Danxia Landform and its beautiful colours.

 It was nice having her around, they could rely on her and so Emma could focus on Killian and his headaches. She was worried about it and so she finally asked him.

 “I know it’s none of my business, but maybe you shouldn’t eat those like candy,” Emma showed up behind Killian and pointed at the package in his hand. She could see that more than half of the box was empty already and she knew it had been full a week before.

 “You are right, Swan, it’s none of your business.” His harsh answer nearly knocked her to the ground. It wasn’t like him to be that mad, on the other hand, she still didn’t know all of his quirks and he was right, it was none of her business after all, or was it?

 “And what will I do when you break down in the middle of nowhere?” Emma turned around again, not wanting to end the conversation like that. She didn’t want to start a fight, but she had a right to know, hadn’t she?

 “Mulan will know what to do. And you have an emergency package with all the numbers to call if anything happens to me.”

 “That’s not- I- that’s not what I meant and you know that,” Emma got angry, she narrowed her eyes but Killian only shook his head slightly.

 “You knew what you signed for.” His casual tone made her even angrier.

 “Yeah, but I haven’t signed for watching you kill yourself with pain meds. You need to see a doctor.”

 “No.”

 “No?”

 “No. End of discussion.” With that said he went away, leaving her behind without turning around again.

 Emma huffed in annoyance and walked to Mulan but she wasn’t much a help. “I think he knows what he is doing. If he really thought he can’t go on, he would tell you.” Emma only shrugged, looked at Killian who was standing over his backpack and asked herself why she was that mad at him.

 The next few days Emma concentrated on the journey and on the landscape surrounding them.

She was very excited when they finally arrived at the Tianzi Mountains. She loved the movie Avatar and these rock formations looked so much like the ones in the movie. Emma could see how they had influenced James Cameron.

 Killian still avoided her, so she tried to spend as much time as possible with Mulan. The woman knew so many interesting facts and stories about the mountains and their legends that Emma easily got distracted. At one point, Mulan pointed at a specific waterfall high above them. They stood so perfectly that it looked as if the waterfall started in heaven. Emma was impressed, her eyes fixated the natural wonder and so she didn’t see the stone on their way. It had rained a few hours ago and the ground was still wet.

 Before she could do anything, Emma slipped and fell. Her gasp made Killian and Mulan look back, but Emma was already getting up again. Unfortunately, the ground was too slippery up and she couldn’t find a foothold.

 With a surprised scream, she slipped down the muddy path. She could hear Mulan’s and Killian’s shouts, but she couldn’t find anything to hold on to. Panic rose inside her when she saw the edge of the path coming closer. She tried to find anything to stop her fall, but it was too late already. She didn’t even have time to scream when she didn’t feel any ground underneath her anymore. Her backpack was pulling her down and Emma thought that this was it.

 She closed her eyes, praying that it wouldn’t hurt too much when she finally hit the ground. All the air was pressed out of her lungs and she was sure she blacked out for a moment. When she heard a familiar voice next to her, she opened her eyes again. Mulan was kneeling next to her, looking at her with a concerned expression on her face.

 She slowly sat up. Her head throbbed and her lungs still burned but otherwise, she felt okay. She looked up again and saw that she didn’t fall more than nine feet. The drop was long enough that she could have hurt herself badly, but thanks to her backpack she landed gently (as gently as someone falling down a bluff could).

 “Are you alright, Emma? Your fall looked bad.” Mulan’s voice was like scraping chalk on a blackboard. Emma looked up and had to blink several times to sharpen the image.

 “Yeah, as you said, it looked worse than it was. I think I was just a bit surprised, that’s all. Let’s get back to Killian and move on, shall we? We still have a bit of a way ahead.”

 “Are you sure you are okay? We can suspend our excursion. It’s no problem.” Emma could hear that Mulan was concerned and that she only wanted to help, but she didn’t want to be the one who caused any problems. She hoped she could get up and walk on if only the throbbing pain in her left arm and her head would stop.

 - CS -

 Killian watched Mulan help Emma to her feet. He saw the pained expression on Emma’s face but he also saw that she kept her emotions at bay from the moment she saw him watching her. Stubborn lass.

 She needed a doctor. He didn’t want her to be in pain. He didn’t want her to suffer any repercussions from her fall. He needed to talk to her. Emma and Mulan climbed back up to the path he was standing on. Emma limped a bit but she made a brave face and climbed on her own. When Killian offered her his hand, she refused with raised brows. He stepped back and gave her some space.

 He knew he was in no position to ask her to seek out a doctor, but he wished she would say she wanted to see one on her own. Of course, she didn’t. Instead, she followed Mulan, a bit slower than usual, down towards the Li River.

Killian could see the relief when Emma was able to get rid of her backpack. Mulan went to one of the cottages next to the river and an old woman stepped outside.

He had been impressed by the hospitality of this woman. She not only showed Emma and Mulan a place to freshen up, but also invited them over for dinner.

 Emma looked a bit better now. She had a small cut on her forehead and she was still holding her arm in an awkward way, which made Killian ask her again if she was alright.

 “M’fine,” was all Emma said before she turned her attention back to the old lady. While Killian watched Emma, Mulan started to translate the myth of the Li River the friendly old woman told them during a traditional dinner in her small house.

 It was an interesting story but Killian’s thoughts were only with Emma. How could she be so stubborn not to go to a doctor? Everyone could see she was in pain and yet she was the one who suggested accepting the invitation from the old lady to stay a night in the cottage next door.

 Their next stop was the Sheraton Huzhou Hot Spring Resort, a luxury hotel, which was shaped like a ring, directly located at Taihu Lake. The idea of a hot shower and a warm clean bed was more tempting than staying another night in the middle of nowhere.

 Killian was impressed by the mystique around the lake. Normally he would enjoy such an adventure but not when one of his group members was hurt. He tried to convince Emma to go to the hotel, but once again she refused. He could only accept her decision and make the best of it. He wasn’t sure Emma had any painkillers with her, so he gave Mulan some of his, to offer Emma some if needed. He was sure she would refuse any kind of help from him.

 The night was restless for Killian. He wasn’t tired, the latest events were too disturbing for him to even think about sleep. He didn’t understand why Emma’s injury (he was firmly convinced she was injured and stubborn to admit it) made him feel so helpless and made him so mad. She was an adult, she knew that something like that could have happened anytime but she should also know that she needed to see a doctor to make sure she wasn’t injured badly.

 Anger flared inside him. He didn’t want her to be hurt. After all this time he was starting to get to know her better. He liked her, she was a good person–interested and also interesting. It was easy to talk to her. He liked when she laughed at one of his stupid jokes or when she accepted his help when there was an obstacle. Although he swore to himself not to let feelings get involved, he had to admit that he had started to develop feelings for Emma. She had become a friend but now Killian wasn’t sure if she might become more for him. He was screwed.

 The next morning he tried one last time to persuade her to go to a doctor.

 “Emma, you are in pain. You need to see a doctor.” His voice was small and broken but Emma only shook her head.

 “No.”

 “No?”

 “Yes, you heard correctly, I only have some bruises. A doctor cannot help me. End of discussion.”

 This was the last time he had spoken to her. Ever since she avoided him completely, even more than he avoided her after her ‘please-go-to-the-doctor’ speech. She walked next to Mulan for the remainder of their trip, when they finally reached the bus, she sat as far away as possible. Every time he met her gaze, she rolled her eyes and started another conversation with Mulan. Maybe he had gone too far.

 - CS -

 The hotel looked welcoming, no it looked far more than that. The ride there had been torture. Emma’s back, her head, and arm still hurt and Killian’s worried looks didn’t make it easier. She was still mad at him for snapping at her but after her fall she finally understood why he didn’t want to see a doctor. Although she was still convinced that he should go to one. Emma needed a shower, she needed a timeout and she needed normal food. The Chinese cuisine was great, dinner last night with the old lady had been wonderful, but Emma longed for a simple cheeseburger or a steak or anything non-Chinese.

 It was their last stop before going to Shanghai. Killian had another meeting with one of his business partners (this time he could go alone, Emma was in no mood to pretend to be his fiancé or anything else) and then they would leave the country.

 The moment Emma stepped out of the hot shower, someone knocked on her door. Rolling her eyes, she quickly wrapped a towel around her nude form and answered the door.

 “Killian.” Surprised she leaned against the doorframe. He looked good in the tight black jeans and the dark blue Henley. His beard was trimmed and Emma suddenly noticed that his hair could also use a cut. He avoided meeting her eyes but spoke eventually.

 “I wanted- can I- can we talk, please?”

 Emma nodded and stepped aside to let him in. He went straight to the couch and plopped down. “Maybe you want to get dressed first?”

 Emma looked down at her naked feet and agreed. Clothes might be a good idea. While dressing she tried to figure out what he wanted. Did he want to end their trip? Has she crossed a line? Was he sending her home with a ‘thank you, but no thank you’?

 She returned a few moments later wearing yoga pants and a big comfortable hoodie and sat down on the big couch across from him. When she tried to adjust herself, she briefly forgot not to use her left arm, and groaned in pain.

 “We need to talk about this, Emma.”

 “I told you I am fine,” Emma snapped and narrowed her eyes.

 “No, you are not. You need to see a doctor.” Killian pushed himself up and ran his hand through his hair, “please.”

 “I told you I don’t need a doctor, just as you told me that you don’t need one.”

 “Alright, Swan, but that’s different. You are hurt. You are in pain.”

 “So are you, Jones.” Emma was steaming. How could he come here, into her room, and start another fight?

 “Aye. And that’s why I made an appointment at Shanghai Renai Hospital for me and you tomorrow.”

 “You what? You had no right to-” Emma jumped up but the quick movement made her dizzy and she sunk back on the couch, holding her head and not speaking for several moments.

 “I know, Emma, but this is important. You- you are important and I don’t want you to suffer.” Killian was now sitting next to her, brushing her hair off her shoulder and gently placing a hand there. He stroked her shoulder with this thumb while he waited for her to look up. “I didn’t want that to happen, but I grew fond of you, Swan.”

 These words made Emma look up. “And you will get checked too?” Maybe her plan had worked. She had hoped he would go to the doctor when she refused to seek one out.

 “Aye.” Killian took her hand and, by chance, Emma’s heart skipped a beat when she met his eyes.

 “Are you afraid?”

 “Bloody hell, you have no idea, woman.” Killian’s words were so genuine that Emma, instinctively and without thinking, leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his lips.

 She smiled at him and held his gaze. “Don’t be. Everything will be fine.”

 They stayed like that for a few more moments; he stared at her and she looked back with a smile on her face. After a while, Killian decided to order in and watch something on Netflix. Emma didn’t object and ordered a double cheeseburger with extra onion rings and Killian a steak medium done with a huge pile of fries (Emma ate nearly half of them after finishing her meal in record time).

 Eventually, they fell asleep on the couch. When Emma woke in the middle of the night, she found herself in Killian’s arms. His chest rose and fell softly and the steady beat of his heart soothed her back to sleep easily. Although her arm hurt in that position, she felt happy and safe. She didn’t know why or how, but Killian made her feel as if nothing else in life mattered than this moment.

 She had thought about death a lot the last days, especially since their fight. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was already used to him. It felt as if they were friends, as if they knew each other for years instead of a few weeks. She didn’t want to lose him. The thought frightened her. Without noticing she had gotten attached to him. Their friendly banter, their nights huddled up together to defy the cold, their talks and laughs at the fireplace were moments which bound them together.

 What if the doctors said that Killian had less time than expected? How would she cope with that? She knew she would try to put on a brave face for him, to support him and be there for him, but she also knew she would cry the first moment she was alone again. Killian had become a friend (or more) and she wished she could help him - no matter how.

 - CS -

 When they woke up, Emma didn’t want to leave her cosy place beside Killian. He was so warm and comfortable, she nearly forgot that they had to leave to catch the plane to Shanghai. Killian and Emma traveled in silence. Neither of them knew what to say, both were nervous and tried to calm their nerves.

 The moment she stood she was painfully reminded that she was injured. Her left arm hurt even more than it had the day before. Lifting anything was impossible, she had to carry her backpack on her other shoulder. Killian seemed to notice and offered her to carry her stuff, but Emma refused. She didn’t want to burden him.

 The flight was short but very turbulent. Emma held onto Killian’s hand for dear life. This was the moment Killian softened again. His nerves were gone in an instant–instead, he focused on Emma and forgot about his MRI appointment.

 In the taxi on their way to the clinic, Emma leaned her head on Killian’s shoulder and he automatically placed a kiss on the crown of her head.

 “Do we have our appointments at the same time or can you stay with me?” Emma’s question was quiet and almost shy, but Killian did hear it. He looked down at her and waited for her to look at him before he answered.

 “I can stay with you if you want, love.” Emma only squeezed his hand and focused on the traffic outside the window again.

 Killian wondered if she might stay with him as well. By chance, his thoughts drifted to the possible outcomes for the appointment. He didn’t feel too bad, he hoped that the headaches were only a side effect of the medication he had to take. He refused to think about the possibility of dying earlier than expected. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. He wanted to see and do so much more. The safari in Africa was already booked and Ireland was calling too. He needed to visit Liam’s grave one last time, wanted to show Emma London and Dublin, and drink at least one Guinness together in the pub he visited so often with his brother when he was younger. No, he wasn’t ready to leave the world now.

 He hadn’t noticed that he closed his eyes, but when he opened them again, he saw Emma’s concerned look. Without thinking he pulled her into a hug and held her close. “I don’t want to die.”

 He hated himself for saying this - hated burdening her with the knowledge that he didn’t want to leave Earth and all this behind. He had accepted his fate, but knowing it could all end earlier than expected made him feel helpless.

 “I want to see and do so many things. They said three more months, now-” he swallowed hard, “What if they say it’s time to say goodbye already? What if they give me only a few more days?” He started to shake, holding back tears was not an option.

 “Sh-sh,” Emma tightened her grip on him. She hated to see him so vulnerable and lost. He was always the strong and organized man and now he was only a lost boy sitting next to her. The taxi driver shot them an irritated look but Emma ignored him. Now she needed and wanted to focus on Killian. “They won’t say that your time is over. Maybe it’s only a side effect of the pills you have to take every day, maybe it is a drug interaction.”

 Killian buried his head in the crook of her neck, staining her shirt with his hot tears and Emma’s heart broke. She stroked his hair, closed her eyes, and pressed her cheek against his head. They stayed like that for a while before Killian broke away. He wiped his eyes and cleared his throat before he looked at her with red-rimmed eyes. “I’m afraid.”

 “And I am here for you. I’ll be by your side as long as you want me to be there and I will wait for you outside the door whenever I am not allowed to be with you. You are not alone and I know they won’t tell you that you are going to die sooner.”

 “Promise?” The pain in his voice nearly urged her tell the driver to go somewhere else, to take a turn and bring them back to the hotel, airport, or anywhere else. But she knew Killian had to be examined. She knew it was the right thing to do, so she did the only thing she knew would ease his pain. At least for a moment. She lied.

 “Promise.”

 They stared at each other for a while. They both knew that single word was a lie but they also knew what it meant for him and for her. When they finally stopped in front of the hospital, Killian paid the driver who stopped midway when returning the change. “Good luck,” he said in broken English and looked from him to Emma and back.

 Emma nodded slightly and grabbed Killian’s hand to pull him out of the taxi.

 “Thanks, mate.” Killian followed Emma, never letting go of her hand. They went to the information desk and were led to a sterile looking wing of the hospital. They had to wait for a few moments before Emma was called into a room. Killian wanted to follow but a young Chinese woman shook her head. “Women only,” she said and Killian nodded.

 “I’ll wait right here, Swan. Take your time.” He sat down and waited. He laid the third magazine back on the table when the door opened and Emma stepped out with a cast on her arm and band-aid on her forehead.

 Killian jumped up and went to her, looking at her arm with raised brows.

 “Bruised shoulder, broke my ulna and I might have to get surgery.” Emma smiled and stopped in front of him. “Oh, and the doctor railed against me and asked why I didn’t come in earlier. I will have a nasty scar on my forehead and the surgery might not have been necessary if I came right away.” She shrugged but regretted it the next moment because of the pain shooting through her body.

 Killian didn’t know what to say and before he had a chance he was called by a nurse. He grabbed Emma’s hand and pulled her with him, suddenly he felt nervous again. Emma sensed his distress and squeezed his hand lightly.

They were led down a long corridor and at one point Emma had to wait outside. Before Killian was able to go inside she pulled him into a hug. “Tell them you want me by your side when they tell you the test results. Everything will be fine. Promise.” She kissed his cheek and broke the hug only to be pulled into another one a moment later.

 “Thank you, love. Thank you so much for everything.” He kissed her forehead and broke the hug to follow the nurse inside an examination room.

 It took over an hour and a half until the door opened again and Killian stepped outside. “They told me to go for lunch, the test results will be ready in about an hour.” He stepped closer and offered his hand. “So tell me, love, where do you want to dine?”

 Emma got up and started to think. “You can decide, I am up for everything.”

 “Everything?” He chuckled, knowing full well that Emma was no friend of seafood and too many vegetables. “How about the vegan restaurant I told you about? It must be around the corner somewhere.”

 Emma frowned but when she saw his teasing expression, she smacked his arm. “Nice try, buddy, how about we stroll down the street and when we find a restaurant for our liking we stop?”

 “Brilliant. Let’s get moving.” Killian took Emma’s hand and led the way. They found a small café where they decided to stop. Emma ordered a simple grilled cheese sandwich and Killian ordered a Mediterranean Salad which made Emma cringe. They fell into a light conversation and enjoyed their meal together.

 “So, you didn’t pack your backpack yourself?” Killian gave Emma her to-go-cup. She shook her head and took the drink.

 “No, my soon-to-be-sister-in-law packed it. It’s David backpack and she made a list for him, which she adjusted a bit for me. I am not that organized.”

 “I can tell,” Killian laughed and sipped at his coffee, however, it was not coffee, it was hot chocolate with whipped cream and a dash of cinnamon. He made a face and offered Emma his cup. “I think this is yours, love. How can you drink something that sweet?”

 Emma took the drink and sipped at it, enjoying the rich taste of chocolate on her tongue. “Hmmm, delicious. It’s just the right amount of chocolate and cinnamon. You don’t like it?”

 Killian shook his head and held the door for her. They walked back to the hospital but the nearer they got the quieter they became. Eventually, they stood in front of the doctor’s door, hand-in-hand, smiling but beyond nervous.

 “Mr. Jones, come in,” the doctor answered the door after Killian had knocked. He turned towards Emma who tried to follow Killian. “And may I ask who you are?”

 “His fiancé.” “My fiancé.” They answered as if on cue and Emma blushed involuntarily.

 “Oh, congratulations. Well, then come on in.” The doctor stepped aside and took his place behind his desk. He turned around and switched on the light so Killian and Emma were able to see the MRI image better.

 Killian squeezed Emma’s hand. He tried to figure out what he saw in the image, but he was too afraid to take a closer look.

 “Well, Mr. Jones, Ms.- I am sorry, I think I missed your name.” Doctor Bowen started and looked at Emma.

 “Swan, Emma Swan. Nice to meet you.”

 The doctor went on. “As I was saying, Mr. Jones, the tumour has grown.” The doctor turned around and Killian’s heart sunk. He had hoped he would hear an ‘everything’s fine, go and continue the journey’. Instead, it was the worst message he could get.

 He didn’t feel Emma squeeze his hand, he only heard the words again and again in his head. ‘The tumour has grown.’ He really tried to concentrate but he wasn’t able to make out any other words the doctor said. He had been through a similar situation before, knew what the doctor was saying already. The only thing Killian wanted was to go. Leave this hospital and run away as fast and as far as possible, but Emma still held his hand and soothed him by running her thumb over his knuckles.

 He looked at her, she was listening intently, her features soft in concentration. She was beautiful. He wished he’d met her earlier, he wished he wouldn’t burden her with this new situation. It was unfair and he hated to be the reason she was hurt and would be even more hurt in a few weeks? days? How long did he still have? He had to know.

 Not waiting until the doctor ended his neverending story, he interrupted him with a strong voice which surprised him himself. “How much longer?”

 “I’m not following,” the doctor looked at him with knitted brows, then looked at Emma and back at Killian.

 “How much longer until my time on Earth ends?” Killian gulped, saying it out loud made it suddenly so much more real than before.

 “Killian,” Emma’s voice made him look at her. She let go of his hand and lifted it to cradle his cheek. “Killian, did you even listen?”

 “Aye, Swan,” he pulled back, making Emma’s eyes go wide, “aye and I want to know how much longer I have on Earth. I need to change plans and I need to-”

 “Killian, listen to me,” Emma interrupted him, now holding his face in both of her hands. He could see that she was serious but she also seemed to be a bit uncomfortable in this position. “Listen, Killian. You are not going to die.”

 Killian smiled at her, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone. “Oh, Emma, I know-”

 “No! You have to listen. The tumour has grown but that was a good thing.” Emma looked him dead in the eye, he didn’t understand what was going on, but she seemed serious about it.

 “It was?” Confusion edged his voice and his eyes fell on the doctor behind the desk.

 “Yes, Mr. Jones, it was and is. What I tried to explain to your lovely fiancé was, that the tumour has grown that fast that it cut itself off of its blood supply.” The doctor leaned back and waited for a reaction but Killian only looked at him dumbfounded, so he went on. “Maybe I didn’t express myself well enough but, because of this result, I am sure you will survive.”

 “I will?” Killian looked from doctor Brown to Emma and back, “I will survive? I will live?” He was utterly confused, the last ten minute he went through every emotion, now he heard what he had wanted to hear all along but he still couldn’t believe it.

 “You will live, Killian, you won’t die,” Emma’s voice stopped him from overthinking everything that happened since he entered this room with her again.

 Killian searched her eyes and there he could see it. She didn’t try to cheer him up or make false promises. This time it was the truth, he would survive, he wasn’t a dying man anymore.

 “Emma-,” his eyes went wide when her lips met his, it was not a quick ‘thank you’ or a kiss to cover their lie of being engaged. It was a happy kiss, a kiss telling him she was relieved he would survive, a kiss filled with so many emotions that his head began to swim again. When she broke the kiss, she pressed her forehead against his whispering the words over and over again. “You will live.” She started showering his face with kisses until she found his lips again.

 This time Killian was more prepared than moments before. He still couldn’t believe what was happening but he was happy–happy that he wouldn’t die and also happy about Emma’s affection.

 Suddenly, their intimacy was broken by the doctor clearing his throat.

 “Of course you need radiation treatment as soon as possible. I already talked to your doctor back in Boston and he is ready to treat you whenever you come home.” With that said the doctor stood and walked around the desk. “Take your time. I have other patients who need me.” He shook their hands and left the room after telling them that his assistant will give Killian any further information.

 When the door fell shut, a big smile appeared on Killian’s face. “Emma, Emma did you hear what he said? I will live. I won’t die.” He jumped up and offered Emma his hand which she happily accepted. She smiled at him too when he suddenly pulled her into his arms and spun her around. “I will live. I will live.”

 “Careful!” Emma yelped, clearly afraid of being hurt again, although she still wore a big smile herself.

 He placed her back down and took her face into his hands before he leaned forward and kissed her. “Thank you,” he whispered against her lips but Emma only closed the gap between them instead of answering.

 - CS -

 They booked the first available flight back to Boston and decided to celebrate the evening in Shanghai. Killian decided to surprise Emma and go to the Disney Resort where they met up with his business partner and his family. It was a very nice evening strolling around the park, enjoying some rides and dinner in one of the restaurants. The whole evening, Killian couldn’t take his eyes off Emma. He decided then and there that he would give them a chance. He didn’t want to stop himself any longer from being happy.

 On the plane back home, Emma looked at Killian who was staring out the window. “Killian?” He turned his head and smiled at her. Emma was nervous but she needed to ask him now. “How did you know about Disney Resort?” It wasn’t the question she wanted to ask but it was a start.

 “What do you mean, darling?” He took a strand of her hair between his thumb and finger and toyed with it.

 “I always wanted to go to a Disney Theme Park, but I never had the chance. Why did you decide to celebrate there?”

 A smile appeared on his face and suddenly his face was so much closer to her than moments before. “Let’s say a charming brother once told me about his little sister and her obsession with a black mouse.”

 “Oh yeah, what else did David tell you about me?” Emma’s eyes wandered between his eyes and lips when she spoke.

 “He said you are stubborn,” Killian started and kissed her cheek before he continued, “and temperamental,” he kissed another spot of her cheek, this time closer to her mouth. “And he said that you are very attractive,” kiss, “and determined,” kiss, “and that you have a big heart.” The last kiss landed on her lips and Emma responded immediately. She no longer wanted to hold herself back. If she was honest she was attracted to this dark and handsome man from the moment he opened the door over a month ago and she had only grown more and more attached to him the more she knew about him.

 Quickly, they got lost in a passionate kiss. When they broke the kiss, he pulled her to him and rested his forehead against hers. “I would love to get to know you better, Emma, take you out on a proper date when we are back home.”

 “I would love to do that,” Emma said and sealed her answer with another kiss.

 When Mary Margaret and David picked them up from the airport, Emma didn’t miss the smiles on their faces and hidden looks between them. Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure anymore that this whole ‘I cannot go with Killian, you have to take my place’ excuse wasn’t a planned setup. But when her eyes fell on the handsome man next to her, who held her hand and placed a kiss on her temple when he felt her eyes on him, she couldn’t say she was not happy about the outcome.