#ch: alice nolan | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kazoo5480 · 3 years ago

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Summary: Emma Nolan and Killian Jones had been best friends since they were kids. What happens when they begin to grow up, their friendship falling apart, but Killian is still in love with Emma?

Her mom startled her out of her thoughts. “You alright? How was school? She said and saw Killian walking down the walkway and crossing the street. “Was that Killian?” she asked, and Emma nodded. “Emma you have to say something, answer any question I just asked,” she said to her daughter.

“We have some classes, we talked, he asked to walk me home, I let him. He apologized, he didn’t explain it all, but he apologized. I yelled at him, told him he hurt me, and that was it. He asked me for my cell outside, and I said not yet. I am not ready for that” she said.

“Did that cover it all? Oh and I had a good day, no homework, I like my classes, and two upperclassmen hit on me and Liam walked me to class so that they would leave me alone” she said and her mom smiled.

“Ok. Dinner will be in an hour” she said and Emma headed up to her room. Mary Margaret texted Alice, “Killian walked Emma home. Fingers crossed,” she said.

“What! Oh my god, is it happening?” Alice texted back. “Wait BRB, he is coming inside”

“Hey honey, how was your day?” his mom asked.

“Good. Fine” he replied. Alice stepped in front of him, “anything happen?” she asked.

He shook his head, “nope. But I apologized to Emma” and his mom squealed. He smirked at his mom, “let’s not get ahead of ourselves, she let me apologize, and I walked her home. I’ve just got to follow her lead is what Liam said” he told her.

Alice nodded, “Dinner in an hour,” she said, and Killian headed to his room and laid on his bed.

Alice shot a text to Mary Margaret, "let's be patient. Homecoming is coming, I will ask Nemo to nudge him" she said, and her friend responded with a smiley.

Killian laid on his bed thinking, how was he supposed to be her friend, and how would he be able to fight against those feelings he had, and be in her life as only a friend. Could he ask her to homecoming, should he? The dance wasn't far off, but he thought it might be the perfect opportunity for him.

He heard his mom call him down for dinner not realizing that much time had passed, and Liam thankfully took over the conversation, and Killian didn't even hear his brother ask him if he was signing up for football.

"Killian, you in there?" Liam teased as he searched his brother's face.

Killian nodded, "yeah, um I will sign up tomorrow. Oh Dad I need new cleats." Nemo nodded at Alice and smiled at her.

"Heard you walked Em home from school," his dad said, and Killian blushed slightly and nodded. Nemo eyed Alice, and she got up heading toward the basement.

"And, how'd it go?" His dad pushed. Liam watched on quietly.

Killian shrugged, "Is it always this complicated?" He asked, and Nemo guffawed, nodding.

"Fraid so my boy. But you apologized, that's good. Keep at it, she will crack eventually.”

"Maybe you should ask her to homecoming," Liam said.

Killian raised his eyes to his brother, "Are you asking Elsa?" He asked, smirking.

"Probably, she is a Junior, but yeah I think I will," he said.

Nemo rapped his knuckles on the table. "Well, that's settled Liam takes Elsa, you'll take Emma," he said and stood taking his plate to the sink. Killian gulped, his anxiety clawing at his stomach.

"Don't overthink it, Killy, just ask her," Liam said quietly.

Killian nodded, "Maybe next weekend. Ariel's having a pizza party at her place" he trailed off and Liam nodded.

"Parents will be there I assume?" His dad said, and Killian nodded, not actually knowing for sure they wouldn't be. Nemo nodded at his kids. "Dish duty, I'm going to help mom with laundry" and headed toward the basement.

Killian finished loading the dishwasher and turned to Liam. "I have a problem," he said.

"Oh? And what is that?" Liam asked, leaning against the counter as he dried a glass.

"I think I love her," he said, and Liam chuckled.

"Killy you have loved Emma since you were in diapers. It's not a secret, only to her because you never told her. You're an idiot" he said, smirking at him.

"I don't want to tell her, not now like this. I want to just be in her life. I've never really dated" he said.

Liam nodded, "what about Milah? That girl last summer. I caught you two sucking each other's faces off a few times" he teased.

Killian felt his cheeks burst into flames. "It wasn't serious, and it never went that far man," he said.

Liam nodded. "Well, go slow. Get her off the market for homecoming and work from there" he said.

Killian nodded, "Thanks," he said and Liam clapped his shoulder heading up to his room.

He laid on his bed and opened up Instagram, he looked at her page, private. Shit. He went to Ruby's, which he followed and there were tons of photos of Emma on it. He scrolled through looking at her, saving favorites to his folder.

He bit his lip and sent her a DM. "Since I don't have your cell, at least let me be your friend on Instagram" he typed out and sent it. He ran his hands through his hair as he waited for her response.

A little bubble popped up, "Ok" and he got the friend request.

Killian sat up quickly, hitting accept, and his eyes nearly exploded. He had over a whole year of Emma's life in pictures to go through, things he missed. Holidays, birthdays, summer, he almost choked when he saw a photo of Emma being kissed on the cheek by their friend Jeff, a few others of them holding hands. He didn't like that, but he had to find a way to ask. Was Emma seeing someone, or had she been? Fuck. He was not prepared for that.

"Don't stalk my photos Jones 😏" came the message.

He shot back an eye-rolling one, " 🙄 a year is a long time. I'm allowed to look, you friended me" he sent it.

"If I wake up to a years’ worth of likes, I am going to think you’re an actual stalker" she was teasing him he realized.

He kept scrolling, buried in the photos was a single photo of himself, and her. Her 10th birthday. "How times have changed" was the caption, and his stomach dropped.

She posted that last year on her birthday, and a series of photos followed it in the post.

The first one was of them, her tenth birthday followed up by a ton of birthdays after that one, and the last photo was a picture of Emma sitting with a cupcake in front of her, she was making a wish when the photo was taken. Was that a coincidence he thought, he started the series of photos, and the last one a solo shot of her making a wish? It had to be.

Fuck, he said and liked the photos. He screenshotted it and sent it to her. "Just workin my way back to you babe" he sent it, their inside joke from long ago when Emma's mom and Dad taught them how to dance.

She didn't respond.

He sighed, plugged his phone in, and fell asleep looking at every photo she had ever posted. Moments he missed out on, and fuck he was an idiot.

The next morning he beat Liam to the shower and ate quickly, going out to wait for Will on the sidewalk, and Liam offered him a ride when Graham showed up.

"Nah, we can walk," he said and Liam smiled, and nodded.

Emma came out of her house, in a dress so short his heart might have stopped. It was buttercup yellow, her favorite color. He watched her as she tossed a cardigan over her shoulder as she walked, her curls blowing in the breeze, and stopped at the end of her walkway, likely waiting for Ruby. She smiled at whatever she was looking at on her phone, and he walked across to her.

"Morning," he said, scratching behind his ear.

"Hey," she said quietly, and just watched him curiously. Her phone buzzed, and she laughed again.

"What's so funny?" He asked her, desperately wanting to see what made her laugh like that.

Emma bit her lip and looked at him, his blue eyes were stupidly blue, and she caved. She showed him her phone, a photo of Ruby laying in a heap of clothes "I have nothing to wear!"

Killian chuckled and she shook her head. "I have to get going, or I'll be late," she said and he nodded.

"Are you waiting on Will?" She asked and he looked around, no sight of him.

"Let's start walking, I will text him and he can catch up," he said and she nodded, pulling both straps of her backpack tighter.

Killian knew this was awkward enough but he wanted to ask her. "Swan, I know we are just starting again, not over, but fresh, and I wanted to ask you about homecoming. To go with me to homecoming, that is" he said nervously, his tongue running over his lower lip as he watched her reaction.

Emma's heart did something stupid in her chest, and she bit her lip nervously, her eyes widening in surprise. That was not what she was expecting him to say at all. "Wow, um, can I say maybe?" She asked him, giving him a small smile.

Killian looked at her curiously, a half-smirk teasing the edge of his lips. "Why maybe, it's a yes or no question, Swan."

Emma shrugged, "I am saying maybe because we are just getting in some kind of even footing here, but I say maybe with no intention of saying yes if anyone else asks. Is that ok? While we figure this out, and if it doesn't stick, can we just go with the group?" She paused, gauging his response.

She was rewarded with a wide grin on his face as he chuckled. "That's a yes," he said, smiling at her. "I am confident that it's a yes," he said and she laughed easily, rolling her eyes.

"Counting your chickens Jones," she said, smiling at him and tossed her hair over her shoulder. She watched him tracking her movements, she may have chosen this dress solely because she knew he would like it, and her heart was still doing stupid things in her chest over his dumb blue eyes. But for some reason, this whole thing felt like a house of cards, one misstep and it would tumble down.

"I can hope, yeah," he said watching her, the way her nose scrunched up, and he wished so badly that they could speed ahead and just be on that even ground already. Baby steps he repeated like a mantra, but her pink lips looked soft, and he just wanted to suck on the bottom one she had been biting for the last few minutes. Say, something idiot , he chastised himself shaking himself out of the thought of her lips, and her soft hair and that short fucking dress that fell halfway down her thighs.

"I'm signing up for football, are you going to join anything?" He asked her as they walked along, and led her across the crosswalk on Main street.

"I think cross country, again. Maybe tennis" she said, tucking her hair behind her ear, and he nodded.

“Is Ruby doing Cross Cuuntry too?” he asked, trying to avoid a lull in their conversation.

“Maybe, she isn't sure. I think she wants to do Soccer” she said, and he laughed picturing Ruby playing a physical sport. Emma laughed at him, knowing exactly what he was laughing at in his head. “Mulan plays, I think Ruby could actually be good at it. Get some of her aggression out, and she is really fast” Emma said defensively.

“Ruby is probably checking out the girls on the team,” he said with a smirk and Emma punched his shoulder lightly.

“Bite your tongue, she and Mulan are really happy, I am happy for them,” she said and he nodded.

“As am I, of course, I want Ruby to be happy Swan,” he said. “So what would make you happy?” he asked, almost afraid to hear her response.

Emma smiled, “I am happy. Why? Do you think I am unhappy Kill? Because while we are getting a fresh start and all that, I don't have anything to lie to you about. I am happy, I want my license, I want a job, but my mom probably won't let me since it would interfere too much with school or sports, but I am not unhappy.”

He nodded. “Well, at least you know you have a line of guys wishing you were theirs,” he said, nudging her shoulder with his, and internally he cringed at himself. Emma huffed out a laugh, and just said it simply “I am not looking” she said. Killian felt his stomach clench but kept the conversation moving.

"Those are in the same seasons you know. I'd be at football while you're doing cross country. Baseball while you're at tennis…" he said and she looked over at him confused, her green eyes sparkling at him.

"Is there a point to that observation Jones?" She asked, side-eyeing him, making her feet continue moving forward.

She should not be lingering on his comment about guys wishing she was theirs, she had an inkling that he was speaking for himself, but as usual not bold enough to say it yet. She was ok with him not voicing it if she was right because she knew there would be no going back if he wanted to date her. She already knew it, and it scared her.

He nodded, "we would be busy at the same time, free at the same times," he said like it should have been obvious.

"Ok, I'm missing the point. Why does it matter if we have practice at the same time, or are free at the same times?" she asked him, glancing over and caught him scratching behind his ear.

Killian shrugged, "I could come to watch you, or you could come to watch me," he said and Emma gave him a surprised look.

Emma laughed, "alright. So you're asking me if I'll come to watch your games?" She said dryly.

Killian nodded, "Yeah, yes. That is what I am saying, or asking," he said, feeling his blush creep up his neck. "If you want to, ya know. You don't have to" he added quickly, too quickly.

Emma stopped and turned to him. "Say it," she said, crossing her arms, and waiting for him.

Killian gulped. Be honest ringing in his ears. "I looked at your Instagram. I don't want to miss any more moments Swan. So yes, I want to watch your races, or matches and have you come to mine. Friends do that for each other" he said, just leaving out that he desperately wanted her to be his girlfriend and kiss him before games and every moment in between.

Emma smiled, "Okay. Yeah. Ok," she said and started walking.

"Does that mean I get your number?" He asked, looking hopeful.

Emma scoffed, “Maybe. I'm not actively hiding it from you, but giving you access to my private life has to happen organically on some level, I can't just give you an all-access pass to me. Baby steps" she said softly and looked at him. “Besides, when did you get so impatient?” she teased.

He shrugged. "I just thought we could text. I'll take it, whatever you want Em, however slow, I am in, all in. I know last year that I put that distance there, not having classes together didn't help, but I did it. I am sorry. But let me make up for it, or try to" he said quickly and squeezed her hand.

Emma nodded and pulled her hand away, they couldn't just pick up where they left off, could they? No. She had to make him work for it a little bit.

"Why homecoming?" She asked.

He shrugged. "I wouldn't want to take anyone else, even if we just go as friends," he said honestly.

Emma felt her heart and stomach doing ridiculously stupid things at his honesty and she just smiled. "Maybe," she said, and he grinned at that.

"Still taking it as a yes. I'll wear you down, just you wait Swan" he said and smirked, his blue eyes sparkling at her.

"Hey! Jesus you two walk fast" Will huffed running towards them. "I've been like a block behind the whole time," he said and eyed them. "Where's Lucas?" He asked.

"Clothing disaster. Granny was driving her" Emma said, and Will shook his head.

"You girls, god. Just put a dress on and you're dressed. Milah was the worst at that, Belle too. They took forever" he said looking at Killian who paled a little.

"Who is Milah? and Belle French you mean?" She asked Will.

Will nodded and Killian desperately wanted him to keep his fucking mouth shut.

“Yeah, Belle and I dated a bit last year, still talk a lot, but she is busy, so we are still friends. Milah was Killian’s girlfriend" Will said looking at his phone, and Killian saw Emma's jaw clench tightly out of the corner of his eye.

"She wasn’t my girlfriend. We just hung out for a little while" he said to Will, ignoring the hurt look on Emma's face. He saw the photos with Jeff, now was the opportunity to ask.

"How about you Em, are you seeing anyone? He asked.

Emma shrugged, not sure of what to say. She had no right or claim to Killian, she wished he had told her himself in time and privately, but it was what it was.

"Sure there were guys, a few this summer, but nothing serious," she said and was thrilled at the tick in Killian’s jaw. She shouldn't be thrilled by his possessive nature, but she was. Oh, she was going to make him work for it alright, if he was going to actually pursue her he was going to earn it. She thought this over to herself as they continued walking on the tree-lined street nearing the school.

As they entered the building Emma waved bye to them, heading toward her locker.

"What was that?" Will asked him.

Killian shrugged, "progress," he said simply.

"Show her your notebook," Will said, slapping his back and running the opposite way.

Killian groaned, he knew Will had looked at it, asshole. Killian dropped by his locker and took that notebook out, sticking it on the top shelf at the back of his locker.

He never wanted anyone else to see it. His collection of sketches and drawings, comics he drew, but mainly the ones featuring a female superhero who was very much Emma Nolan. Sketches of her sitting in her window reading, her smile, sketches of her in general. He would die of embarrassment if she ever saw it, it was bad enough Will had looked.

Emma dropped into her seat and Ruby eyed her. "That's what you chose after that whole thing" Emma laughed and Ruby tipped her black hat and nodded. Emma rolled her eyes and pulled out her English book, and the syllabus. They spent the hour discussing the upcoming creative writing project.

The day went by too quickly, and Emma dragged on her PE uniform heading toward the sign-up sheet and put her name down for the cross country team. Heading out with Anna, they picked the same spot and began stretching.

Killian came out still sliding his tee over his head as he talked with Kris, and Emma caught a glimpse of his chest, his sculpted abs, and she practically dragged her eyes to the floor trying to push the thought of a shirtless Killian Jones out of her brain, no she was not thinking about the trail of dark hair that ran below his waistband. She swallowed thickly trying to refocus on what Anna was saying as they got closer to them.

Killian’s eyes landed on Emma as she leaned forward stretching her legs, and her shorts rode up as she twisted and bent to stretch, he groaned internally watching her chest move, and her boobs jiggled as she laughed with Anna. She was fucking perfect, he needed to keep his dick in check because it certainly wasn’t getting the memo that random boners were not ok in high school. He adjusted the waistband of his gym shorts where he had tucked himself up to avoid this exact situation.

He sat beside her and began his own stretches and she smiled at him as she continued talking to Anna. Mr. French blew his whistle and Emma hopped up heading outside, the three of them behind her.

"Did you sign up?" Killian asked her, and she nodded. "Me too," he said and she smiled.

"That's cool. Liam will be thrilled" and Killian nodded. "I'll only make JV but it's ok," he said.

"I think it's great," she said honestly and he looked at her like she had something on her face. "What?"

Killian shook his head. "It will be nice to have you there, and knowing that you are there is all," he added with a smile.

Emma smiled. "Oh I’m sure the Killian Jones fan club will start making signs for you," she said with a hint of snark.

"As long as you have a sign, I don't care," he said, glancing at her, noticing the pale blush on her cheeks. She punched his shoulder, and he feigned hurt. "You wound me, Swan."

"Poor baby. Take off your shirt, I'm sure girls will literally chase you to aid you in your turmoil" she teased and he grinned.

"Nah, I'm good right here actually," he said. Emma gulped, not daring to look at him, so she did what she did best, and took off running ahead of him. Killian was shocked for a moment but knew her reactions well. She didn't want him to know something, so he ran after her, catching up easily.

"I think it's fair to say that you'll make the team Swan," he said and Emma didn't look at him. "Ems come on, it was a joke.

She slowed down and glanced at him. Rather than confronting him about Milah, or whatever he was dropping hints at, she chose to ignore it all. They weren't dating, she wasn't his friend during Milah, she had no right to let it bug her. She had hooked up with Jefferson, and Graham, so she had no room to say a word. The Graham thing would piss Killian off, so she didn't even want to go there.

She wondered just how jealous Killian would be over Graham or Jeff. On the other hand, she didn't really want to play mind games with someone she hated to admit was still extremely important to her. Making him grovel for being a dick was one thing, but she wasn't throwing conquests in his face to get a reaction from him. She didn't need to, he offered them freely.

He was a teenage boy, a fifteen-year-old guy, it didn't take rocket science for her to put together that the familiar pull between them would only increase, and that she had caught him checking her out more often than not, but she wasn’t sure that she was ready. They were not there yet as friends to even talk about it. She thought about him asking her to homecoming, wondering why on earth, on the second day of school he would ask her when it was a month away. Her heart had a sliver of hope that maybe he had deeper feelings for her, but he hadn’t said wanting anything more than her friendship.

She had to trust him again, trust that he was telling her the truth. If Killian wanted her friendship she would give it to him, but she wouldn’t even let her mind wander to the possibility if he wanted more than friendship.

“I can hear your brain working out a puzzle Swan,” Killian said as he jogged beside her.

“No, no just thinking about something. I am fine” she said, tossing him a smile and was grateful when the whistle blew.

They walked in toward the locker rooms and went their separate ways. Emma touched up her makeup after her shower and headed out, not surprised at all to see Killian standing there, but was waylaid by an upperclassman.

“Hey, you’re Emma right?” The guy asked, his brown eyes practically undressing her, making her stomach turn sour.

“That’s me, do I know you?” she asked, keeping her face stoic, and he shook his head.

“Neil Gold. I noticed you yesterday, wanted to introduce myself. What do you say to a date on Saturday night?” he asked her.

“Sorry, I have plans. Thanks though, it was nice to meet you,” she said, and breezed past him toward her locker, forgetting Killian for the moment as she hurried to drop her stuff off.

Killian stayed against the locker, watching Neil stalk off, and he watched Emma handle him easily enough before she took off toward her locker, not even waiting for him.

He caught up with her, “what was that?” he asked her.

“Someone trying to get into my pants,” she said back in a serious tone.

Killian whistled, “nothing gets past you, does it,” he asked.

Emma glared, "I was a lifeguard the last two summers. He isn't the first guy trying to get into my pants, I am sure he has seen me in a bathing suit. But I can handle myself,” she said and slammed the locked shut, and looked at him. “Lunch?” she asked and he nodded walking beside her toward the cafeteria, Killian trying to hide the smirk on his face at her brute dismissal of someone most girls would easily chase after because of the money his family had.

School passed by quickly, and Killian realized that since he had first walked Emma home at the beginning of the week, apologizing and being a supportive, flirtatious friend, that every day he broke down one more of those pesky bricks in the wall Emma had built up around herself. Their camaraderie returning, even if his attraction to her increased tenfold.

He hated he was the root of that wall, but he was fucking trying, really trying. After Neil Gold asked her out, he made sure to be a constant presence around Emma, just as Liam had advised. Emma didn't even snap at him anymore about it, she just expected him there and continued with whatever conversation they had left when he left her last. Their new version of normal was ok, and he got to walk her to school, and home and his mom had even invited them to dinner, and that was nice too. Henry was super into robots and Killian and he had bonded over that shared passion of engineering.

What did bother him was that Emma still had not answered his question about homecoming yet, and when he asked Liam if he should ask again, his brother gave him a big fat “ NO ” as a response. Told him to let her decide, and if she wanted to go in the group as friends, that he would do it, and bide his time.

This weekend was Ariel’s party, and she was excited to use the pool one last time before they drained it Sunday. That was the condition, they could hang there all weekend until Sunday morning when all the guys had to come to help drain it. They all agreed because, duh. Free pool, girls in bikinis, and no parents? It was a no-brainer. Killian had been talking to Emma about it, she was staying the whole weekend over there as was Ruby and Mulan, but he hoped that it would maybe take an interesting turn.

By the time Friday at 3 rolled around, Killian’s knee was bouncing up and down in anticipation and he grabbed his bag, rushing out the door as soon as the bell rang. He was heading out the front doors to wait for Emma, and he ran right into his brother.

“Whoa little brother, where is the fire?” Liam teased.

“Nowhere, just going to wait for Emma and Ruby outside,” he said. “Are you coming home?” he asked and Liam nodded at him.

“Yeah, I am staying at Graham’s tomorrow though, so stay out of trouble this weekend,” he said and Killian nodded, heading past him.

Emma and Ruby came out with Ariel and Mulan a few minutes later, and Liam waved at all of them, ruffling Killian’s hair in front of them, as he and Graham headed toward Graham’s car.

If Killian wasn’t mistaken Graham had winked in Emma’s direction and she waved at him. What the fuck was that? He wanted to know what happened there, he needed to ask her if it was true. He couldn't say a word if it was, but he found it hard to believe Graham put a move on her, someone he had known forever, pot meet kettle , he grimaced.

“Going to war there?” Emma teased and poked his head. Killian shook his head, “you guys ready to go, or are you not going home?” he asked.

“No, I am heading home to get my stuff,” she said to him and turned to Ariel.

“I’ll be there around 7,” Emma said to Ariel, who nodded and waved as the other three walked away from them.

“Are you coming by her house this weekend?” Emma asked him.

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t dream of missing an opportunity to see you in a bathing suit” he said and she rolled her eyes.

“Em, come on, it was a joke, partially,” he said smirking. “ Yeah, of course, I am coming, you’re going so I am going,” he said and she looked at him curiously but didn’t say anything. “Say it,” he said, tugging her hand to stand still.

“What?” she asked looking distracted.

“Swan, come on. What’s up? Do you not want me to go?” he asked.

“No, no. Nothing like that. I just didn’t know who was going was all” she said.

“Is there someone else that you want to come to Ari’s?” he asked her and she shook her head.

“Nope,” she said quickly, and Killian nodded, tugging her along again.

“Are you ever going to answer me about homecoming? Or should I still assume that you said yes, and pick out a white corsage to go with whatever you wear” he smirked at her, noticing the blush creep up her neck.

“I haven’t decided yet,” she said and smiled at him.

“I still take that as a yes. So other than pizza, what else should I bring over there tomorrow?” he asked.

Emma shrugged, clothes, a swimsuit? I don’t know. Ask Eric, he will know” she said.

“Will mentioned some beers, but I wasn’t sure how cool Ariel would be, or you if I am being honest about it,” he said.

“It’s not like I haven’t been drunk before Jones, we are almost 16” and she laughed.

“Ah, so, you have been drunk. When?” he asked.

Emma got nervous, maybe she should tell him about Graham. No, don't do that now , she told herself. “I don't know, parties, I saw you at a few but I never said Hi,'' she said, staring straight ahead.

“You went to parties, saw me, and didn't even say Hi? Why?” he asked her. His mind was trying to wrap around the idea of Emma drunk at parties he was at, and never even said a word, he never even noticed her.

Emma shrugged, “We weren't friends,” she said. “I saw Liam and Graham at a few, so I am surprised he never told you” she added, and that cuts deep inside of him. His own brother never told him.

“We were always friends Emma, I was just too dumb to realize it,” he said squeezing the hand he was still holding. Emma shook herself out of the daze, tugging her hand back which he released.

“I didn't know that, and If you ever saw Ruby at one, the likelihood that I was there was always 100%,” she said, smirking at him, and he looked like she had hit him upside the head. He had seen Ruby at tons of parties, he could have fixed this ages ago he thought.

“I never knew. Were you avoiding me?” he asked.

She shrugged and glanced over at him. “I mean not intentionally most of the time, but if I saw you, then yeah I would pretty much stay at the other end of the party. I didn't want to run into you” she said and before she knew what was happening Killian was spinning her toward him so that his chest collided with hers.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, sliding them beneath the straps of her backpack, and whispered “I’m sorry Em. God, I am so sorry.”

“It's fine. We are past it, stop apologizing Kill, it's getting annoying” she said and released him and he let her waist go reluctantly.

“Maybe I should sneak over to Ariel’s tonight,” he said with a smirk.

Emma smiled, “why? Want to see a bunch of girls skinny dipping?” she teased.

Killian’s jaw dropped, “Is that what you guys do when we aren’t around?” he asked her, his heart beating frantically.

“Sometimes, it isn't like we haven't all skinny dipped at some point,” she said. “Do you think I was under a rock, having no fun because you weren't in my life?” she asked him laughing.

He had to stop images of a naked Emma running in his brain. “No, no. I just am trying to wrap my head around the idea that all of you guys swim naked together” and she slapped his chest. “I mean I would happily sneak over to sneak over if you wanted me to” he nudged her shoulder.

“We’ll see,” she said, smirking.

“Let me get your cell at least for tomorrow. I know you will have yours on you, and they won’t” he said.

Emma paused at the end of her driveway, she caved. “Give me your phone,” she said, and he handed it over. “You have to unlock it, Jones,” she said, handing it back.

“It’s your birthday,” he said, the blush creeping up his cheeks into his ears.

Emma’s mouth dropped open, and she shook her head typing the six-digit code in. The background was a photo from her Instagram, she said nothing. Ignoring the hammering heart in her chest, she quickly added her cell to her contact card, which was a drawing of her. She clicked it, and it opened up and she giggled.

“Is that me? Like a superhero!” she exclaimed and Killian rolled his eyes, nodding.

“Shut up Swan,” he said and took his phone back from her. He leaned in and kissed her cheek, “I will talk to you later” he grumbled and she held his hand until his distance required their fingers to separate.

“See you later,” he said and she turned up the driveway heading into the house.

Mary Margaret was watching from her bedroom window. “He kissed her cheek, she gave him her cell number. OMG is this really happening? Should we be worried?” she texted Alice.

“BRB!!!!!!!!!!!!!” was her response so Mary Margaret headed downstairs, and greeted Emma.

“Hey honey, are you still sleeping at Ariel’s?” she asked and nodded. “Are we picking up Ruby too?” she asked and Emma shook her head.

“Nope. Ruby and Mulan went home with Ariel, I needed to pack a bag with my swim stuff. I forgot this morning, so I came to do that. Figured I would get my math homework out of the way, and go around 7, is that ok?” she asked and her mom nodded.

“How is Killian?'' she asked, following Emma up the steps towards her room.

“You're fishing,” Emma said, narrowing her eyes at her mom.

“Maybe…” She replied and her daughter smirked.

“Have you answered him about homecoming yet?” she asked and Emma shook her head.

“Not yet. I don't know. I am not punishing him or anything, I am just not sure yet if it's a group thing or a couples thing. I think by Sunday and hearing the girl's plans will let me know whether or not I say yes, or no” she explained as she laid out her books and collapsed on the bed.

Her mom nodded and shut the door behind her. Mary Margaret knew that Emma was going to say yes, it may have been why she had already begun sewing a dress for her to wear. Her phone buzzed.

“He said he is swimming at Ariel's tomorrow with Will and Eric, you think that's ok?” Alice asked.

“I trust them” she texted back and got a thumbs up from Alice.

Emma grabbed a few bikinis and her clothes, and her mom dropped her off, Ruby coming out to say Hi to her mom, and led Emma inside. Emma was surprised when she saw Eric, Killian, and Will seated around the dining room table.

“Swan, there you are” Killian hollered at her, and she waved, dropping her bag upstairs in the guest room.

“What are you guys playing? She asked as she sank into a chair. Will cracked a beer and set it in front of her, “thanks” she said smiling up at him, and he nodded sitting back down and Eric answered her question.

“Kings, Em,” he said, eyeing his cards. “You can be in the next round” and she nodded, sipping her beer, looking at Ruby’s hand beside her, and made sure to keep her face impassive. Ruby was going to win, there was no way anyone could beat that hand.

“You look nice” Killian blurted out across the table at her, and she rolled her eyes shooting him a smile.

“Aw. Do you know what we should play next? Seven minutes in heaven” Ariel said excitedly.

“I am gay, and so is Mulan, not fair. If I want to make out with my girlfriend I will just go upstairs, I don't want to make out with any of you, and I have already kissed Emma, so she doesn’t count, Ruby said laughing.

Killian’s eyes widened at that comment, and he wanted to hear that story but not here in front of everyone. Emma tossed her hair over her shoulder and laughed.

She looked great, her shorts short enough to show almost her entire leg, and her tank top left little to the imagination. She had no makeup on from what he could tell, and he swallowed thickly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat at the boner he was now sporting and ignoring into submission, his jeans definitely tightening in the crotch.

“I agree with Ruby,” Eric said and kissed Ariel. Emma wiggled in her seat, realizing that Will, Killian, and her were the only non-attached people.

The doorbell rang, and Emma volunteered to get it, checking through the peephole, and smiled opening it.

“Hey Belle, I didn't know you were coming,” Emma said smiling and Belle came in quickly and hugged her briefly.

“Yeah Will invited me last minute, and I figured why not, I already got my math homework done so here I am,” she said shyly.

“Me too, I finished it before I got here, and I didn’t know anyone else was coming, hence my attire. I thought it was a sleepover for just girls" she said, suddenly feeling eyes on her and she looked over to see Killian leaning against the doorway with two beers, handing each girl one.

They played a few more rounds of cards before Ariel demanded they move to the basement to watch a movie. Emma was on her third beer at that point, but she had felt Killian's eyes on her all night. She couldn't ignore it, it was like his eyes were burning into her skin when she wasn't looking at him, or talking to him.

"I think you look fantastic," he said in her ear as they trailed behind Will and Belle, walking towards the basement where everyone was descending.

Emma stopped and leaned against the kitchen counter, the beer buzzing her slightly and she stepped out the back door onto the patio, twilight overhead. Killian slipped out after her, leaving the door open, and she spun to look at him, grateful she hadn't taken her converse off.

Her pulse quickened, he was staring at her intensely as he stepped closer to her, waiting for her to tell him to move, he would never make a move without her consent. His shoes were touching hers, standing centimeters apart, and Emma’s blood was roaring in her ears as she took in the look on his face.

Her green eyes looked up at him expectantly, her blonde curls hanging over her shoulder, and he brushed them back gently. He heard Emma sigh, and her spearmint breath was close enough to ghost over his lips.

"Swan" he murmured, and nuzzled his nose against hers, waiting for her to push against his chest, and instead, she pulled the neck of his polo shirt closer. She rose onto her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck, and kissed him before she could have another thought.

Her soft lips were pillowed against his, and Killian cupped her jaw with his hands, his thumbs stroking her neck, driving her insane. He slid one hand further down to cup her ass, pulling her closer to him, and she gasped into his mouth, feeling the stiffness of him against her stomach.

Emma had a dozen emotions coursing through her, his lips moving urgently against hers, the taste of him flooding her senses, she could hardly breathe, and she absolutely didn’t care.

God could she fucking kiss. His mind was blown, the fantasy not even coming close to the reality of Emma Nolan kissing him. Her lips were sliding over his, they were practically glued together at this point and he wanted nothing more than to stay here grounded at this moment forever.

She shivered in his arms, and he was nearly about to push her against the side of the house when they were interrupted.

"Guys, grab chips!" Ruby's voice rang out from the stairs, and Emma knew she was giving her a reprieve in case she needed one.

They broke apart, and Killian placed his forehead against hers, sliding his hands back to her hips, staring down into her eyes.

"Wow," he said softly, and Emma blushed, nodding silently.

"Chips Jones," she said, shaking herself out of the daze she was wrapped in, moving past him back into the house, grabbing two bags and he grabbed her elbow, swinging her around to face him.

"Em," he said softly, and she gave him a soft smile and shook her head, descending into the basement.

Killian ran his hands through his hair. Fuck. He just kissed Emma. What the fuck was happening. He followed her, sitting beside her, and Ariel hit play once chips and beers were handed out, the Texas Chainsaw Massacre began to play.

Emma jumped a few times, Ruby screamed, and Killian held Emma's hand in the dark, where no one would see like they were ten years old all over again watching Ghostbusters.

Emma spent the whole movie painfully aware of Killian’s proximity to her. She wanted to take a beat, process the kiss, and what this meant. It meant something, it had to of, he was holding her hand in the dark, not cuddling her or being showy. He was doing what he always did, giving her space, but letting her know he was right there.

Ariel led everyone upstairs, and since they were all walking they took the bag of cans to dump on their way somewhere in someone's garbage can.

They all said goodbyes and Killian hugged her, "I'll text you'' he whispered, and brushed her cheek lightly with his lips going unnoticed by everyone.

The girls helped Ariel tidy up and they all decided to throw on mud masks, Emma sent her mom a photo, and they sat on Ariel's floor talking about homecoming.

"So, Eric said Jones asked you, Emma," Ariel said and Emma laughed.

"He did," Emma said, shrugging.

"And?" Ruby asked, munching on a chip.

"Maybe. I said maybe, I wasn't sure if it was a group thing or a couples thing, I don't know" Emma said thankful for the green mask covering her cheeks.

"Your chest is blushing" Ruby cackled and Emma threw a pillow at her.

"Say yes!" They chorused at her and she shrugged.

Ruby winked at her and stood up. "I'm washing this off and going to bed," she said on her way to the bathroom.

Emma crashed in Ariel's sister's room, while Ruby and Mulan took the guest room. Emma laid there for a while before her phone buzzed and she rolled over grabbing it.

K: Hi

E: Hey

K: Are we going to talk about it?

Emma bit her lip.

E: Not tonight

K: Does that mean I can kiss you again Swan?

E: Maybe

K: I am taking that as a yes, and also taking that as a yes to homecoming too 😛

E: I didn't say yes

K: I like kissing you

E: It's still not a yes Jones

K: I'm wearing you down, I can feel it. When I win your heart Em, and I will win it, I am going to expect a medal of honor, and more kissing 💋, he typed laughing to himself as he typed it.

E: 🙄

K: Is it still okay to come tomorrow, Swan?

E: Yeah. See you tomorrow

K: 😘

Emma made a snap decision, she pressed call on his contact.

His phone buzzed. Emma's name flashed across the screen and quickly swiped to accept.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"You are dumb" she retorted.

"Over you," he said with a grin on his face. "I'm tempted to sneak back into that house tonight," he said softly.

"You can't..." she protested weakly.

"That sounds like a challenge if I've ever heard one Em"

"It's not. Seriously Jones."

"Sorts sounds like it" he teased.

"I'll see you tomorrow, ok?" she said.

He took a breath and thought of Liam. "It meant something to me. Ok?" He said feeling vulnerable.

"I know," she said softly.

"Just don't shut me out. We will figure it out together. Ok?" He pleaded quietly. "We will be there around 11, so see you in eight hours"

"Counting down the minutes" she replied dryly, and he smiled.

"Night Em," he said softly.

"Night Kill," she said softly, and the call ended.

His phone buzzed, Ruby posted to Instagram. The girls had mud masks on and were making stupid faces. He liked the photo immediately.

"You all show your true faces at night" he commented.

"@KJones0125 You are no gentleman sir"

"@RubyRed7645 I speak nothing but the truth"

"@KJones0125 🖕"

"@RubyRed7645 Rude"

He smiled and rubbed his eyes. He needed to sleep. He wondered if she told them, he would guess not or Ruby would have been texting him. He finally shut his eyes and tried not to think of Emma rejecting him tomorrow.

@holdingoutforapiratehero @hookedmom @xsajx @kymbersmith-90 @kmomof4 @katie-dub @ohmightydevviepuu @lassluna @pirateherokillian @teamhook @stahlop @elizabeethan @whimsicallyenchantedrose @resident-of-storybrooke @therooksshiningknight @jennjenn615 @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @killianswannn @stories-enchanted @eleveneitherway @girl-in-a-tiny-box @withheartfulloflove @kday426 @lyssapup27 @swanlovato @kaoslikesstuff @djlbg @kristi555 @laschatzi @xarandomdreamx @lkles08 @wyntereyez @bubblegum1425 @xhookswenchx @yasbio2015 @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @wefoundloveunderthelight @hollyethecurious @let-it-raines @jonesfandomfanatic @searchingwardrobes @dreamingdreamsalways @oncechicagolove @andiirivera @vvbooklady1256 @gingerchangeling @everything-person @klynn-stormz @qualitycoffeethings @vampcoffeegyrl23 @enchanted-swans @ohmakemeahercules @donteattheappleshook @bluewildcatfanatic @the-darkdragonfly @demisexualemmaswan @lavenderbudd @grimmswan @spartanguard @flslp87 @ultraluckycatnd @sarahpaq08 @thisonesatellite @captainswan21 @zaharadessert @mariakov81 @snowbellewells @xouatxcs @kiwistreetswan @batana54 @nadine200179 @probalicious17 @courtorderedcake @julesep3026 @jackieorioncat @whatthehell102082 @xemmaloveskillianx @jarienn972 @sthonour @linda8084 @carpedzem @pirateprincesslena @daxx04 @winterbythesea @artistic-writer @scientificapricot @cocohook38 @wisfan3000 @chrisilybrooke @pcrcabcth @captainswan4life85 @molly958 @kingofmyheart14 @badwolfreturns @itsfridaysomewhere @fallingforthecaptain @lovethelifeyoulive1106 @onceratheart18 @strangestarlighttree @omgmarvelous @justanother-unluckysoul @anothersworld @purplehawkcaptain @jennjenn615 @sailtoafarawayland @superchocovian @hookedonkillianforlife87

#emma nolan #killian jones #ouat #OUAT au #once upon a time #high school au

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secret-captain-swan-blog · 4 years ago

Text

Castle on the Hill

English Literature PhD student Emma Swan just needs money to pay for her last semester of grad school tuition. Killian Jones has always dreamed of opening a bookshop but has never been able to afford it. So when the small principality of Misthaven is looking for their lost princess, the pair decide that this might just be the perfect money making scheme.A Multi-chapter Modern Day + Lost Princess (think Rapunzel/Anastasia-esque) + Book Lovers in a Coffee Shop AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 94580/ ?

Prologue (Part 1 + 2) // Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8 // Ch 9 // Ch 10 // Ch 11 // Ch 12 // Ch 13 // Ch 14 // Ch 15 // Ch 16 // Ch 17

Read on: Ao3

Killian is reading in the garden when it starts to rain. It’s not a lot, just drops against the thin pages of his book. He’s nearly to the end of Jane Eyre now. He’s honestly ready to be done with the book. Where it had once been enthralling, it now seems tiresome. The pain of the loss of Alice lingers folded in it’s pages.

He’s wondering if he should seek some refuge from the rain, when he looks up to see Emma running across the field. She’s windswept, her hair falling loose from her ponytail. Yet she’s still beautiful, like a Romantic heroine, her dress sticking to her torso. He can tell there are tears in her eyes.

He rises to his feet, striding as quick as he can to her. They meet in the middle. He wraps her in his arms quickly. Something is wrong, he notices instantly, from the slump of her shoulders and the desperateness she clings to him with. Her hands knots in the back of his shirt, holding on to him.

“Emma, love?” He asks into her hair. “Whatever is wrong?”

It must be the statue, he thinks. It must have gotten into her head. He should not have left her there by herself. She had heavy emotions that he should have been there to help her with.

“Killian, I can’t,” she mumbles, her voice half delirious.

“Can’t what?” He prods, fear trickling through his body.

She sniffles and whispers again, “I can’t.”

It’s windy outside, the rain picking up, and he can’t hear her well.

“Come, love,” he says. “Let’s get you inside. It’s getting bad out here.”

She shakes her head against his chest, “No. I can’t.”

He rubs his hands up and down her arms. “You’re going to catch a cold, love. I want to hear what’s upset you, but some place a bit less damp and cold.”

“No, no,” she says. “We can’t go into the castle. I can’t deal with it.”

“Deal with what, Swan?” He asks, slipping his hands down her arms to take her hands in his. He raises them to his lips to kiss them softly. They are already freezing.

“They’re going to tell me that I’m the lost princess,” she whispers. “And I’m not ready for it.”

He tries to process what she is saying. She’s the lost princess. She’s not ready.

His mind flits through all the evidence that he’s been trying to not point out for so long. The uncanny resemblance between the girl in Killian’s memories and Emma herself. The name. The accent. The right history. The scar on her shoulder. Even the chin. Killian’s spent so long trying to get Emma to remember something. For the connection to hold. And maybe, just maybe this visit to the gardens triggered the very thing that Killian’s been dreaming of. Maybe, even after last night’s fight, she has finally had the epiphany that he knows, he’s certain, must be coming.

But maybe that’s not it? Killian doesn’t want to get his hopes up. Reality rushes through him. Maybe the Queen or Regina just think that Emma is the lost princess and they want her to go public about it for publicity. Maybe now they’re manipulating her, asking her to pose as the princess. For what? For Misthaven Morale?

He’s going to need more information. Emma’s given him such few words, but his mind is spinning with possibilities. He knows, he’s certain, that something fundamental, potentially something he’s yearned for, is changing right here and now.

He brushes his hand against her hair softly, like he would a timid animal. She curls into him more, shivering.

What she needs, he realizes, obviously isn’t to go back into the castle. She needs to talk and in more than one way, unfreeze.

“Come love,” he whispers into her hair.

He leads her out of the castle grounds, the statues and winter garden behind them. Looking back now, he’s uncertain why he thought it was a good idea to take her there when she was in a bizarre state from the night before. As they weave down the cobblestone, she sniffles now, looking a bit less anxious. He thanks the gods for that.

There is a little tea shop in the grey stone shops lining the road. Called “The Castle Gate Cafe,” it’s lace doily sort of place. The counter boasts an assortment of cakes. He situates Emma in a table that’s tucked into a bay window off to the side that overlooks a damp patch of garden.

As he orders an Americano, a cappuccino, and a slice of lemon lavender cake, he glances back at Emma. Her face is distant, as if her thoughts are in another world.

When he comes back to join her, he presses a cappuccinos into her hands. She closes her eyes and takes a sip, her shivering subsiding.

“Sorry,” she says, after another pensive sip. “I must have seemed crazy back there. Or pathetic.”

“Emma, love, you seem traumatized,” he tells her.

She swallows, “I think I am a little.”

He takes a bit of the lemon cake. It’s sweet and soothing. He puts a piece of it on a fork and passes it to Emma. She takes the bite and gives him a smile.

“I was really affected by what I saw in gardens. I felt so ashamed for scamming the queen. I honestly couldn’t take it anymore. I was like in a weird trance or something, I swear. I felt like an out of body feeling, I don’t know.”

He takes a bite of cake and nods at her to continue.

She rambles, ”So, I went into the castle and all of a sudden, Mary Margaret was there and I just had to tell her everything.”

Killian chokes on his cake, “Everything?”

“Yeah, about the opera and our old plan and everything,” Emma manages.

He frowns knowing this means risking her security in Mishaven, her trust with the Queen, and the possibility of her returning to the country- and to him. “What happened?”

“She didn’t care. Killian, it’s crazy. She said that it doesn’t make a difference. She loves me,” Emma admits.

He reaches out to take her hand. Killian knows how much this means to her- to get the Queen’s affection and approval, to be loved by a parental-type figure in the way she’s always yearned to be. He knows it because he’s wanted it too. That’s part of why he’s never taken Ruby’s Granny’s generosity for granted. He rubs his thumb against her palm, part of him so understands and is proud for Emma.

“That’s marvelous, Swan,” he says.

She takes another sip of cappuccino, before she presses her lips together, and looks up at him.

“But then all of a sudden, Prime Minister Mills walked in,” she tells him.

He lets an eyebrow lift in place of a question.

“And she said that she took DNA from us both, without either of us knowing,” Emma says.

Killian thinks back to the week before, the suspected break-in. Of course it wasn’t the hooded man, it was the Prime Minister.

“We’re related,” Emma tells him. “I’m Mary Margaret’s daughter.”

So he was right.

He’s been right all along. It’s her. Emma is the girl from his childhood. It was Emma who he used to play games with in the castle courtyard. It was Emma who he used to eat sweets with in the kitchens when the cook would make them an extra treat. It was Emma who he ran across the field with that dark night. It was Emma who saw his brother right before he died. It was Emma who was now his sovereign. Emma.

“You’re the lost princess,” Killian says.

He feels a weird bit of emotion well up in him, a feeling of completeness that now is crescendoing. The girl who disappeared that night has been found. The lost girl who never had a family has been welcomed home.

When Emma looks up at him and sees the emotion in his face, something changes in her too. Tears spring again to her eyes. He quickly moves from his seat to slide in the booth next to her. His arms wrap around her. His lips kiss her hair. He tries to hide his sniffles, but he can’t.

She wraps her arms back around him, burying her face in his chest.

“We found you, Emma,” he whispers. “You came home to us.”

She sniffles.

“Killian, I don’t know how to react to this,” she murmurs back. “You’re crying, Mary Margaret is crying. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t feel like a princess. I don’t feel like my life is changing. I still don’t remember anything. It’s not like a sudden dramatic flashback or anything. All of these people keep looking at me like I’m supposed to be crying, but I don’t even know.”

Killian tries to be attentive to her. He realizes that Emma isn’t experiencing this moment as he is. He needs to be there for her. Princess or not, Emma is his girlfriend. She needs him to support her through this emotionally cataclysmic moment.

“Don’t know what?” He asks, brushing another hand through her hair.

“How to be a princess? How to be a daughter? I’ve only ever been Emma Swan. I’ve only ever been lost or alone or fighting for myself. I just want to go back to Durham and write my thesis. I don’t want to learn how to curtsey or use dumb shrimp forks or whatever people do in those Hallmark lost princess movies.”

“I’m not quite sure what a Hallmark is,” Killian replies.

“It’s not important,” Emma says, sniffling and sighing. “It’s just. I’m not really sure I ever wanted this.”

“Emma, you have a family,” he says emphatically, tears still in his eyes. “You have a real life fairy tale. You weren’t reading Blanche Neige all these years to run away from that. Princess Emmaline Georgette Analise Charmant Blanchard Nolan, I promise this is everything you’ve ever wanted.”

She smiles and sniffles and nods, “Yeah, I think I know that. Maybe that’s what scares me the most.”

He hugs her tight.

“I still don’t know what to do,” Emma says. “I ran away from the Queen.”

“You ran away?” He laughs.

“Yeah, I didn’t know how to react and she was crying and I absolutely couldn’t be in that room another moment,” she says.

“Oh love. Oh Swan,” He says, amused. His voice is still ragged from tears. “I think we should go find your Mum now. She’ll be wanting to hug you too after all these years.”

They walk back into the castle. Emma has to fight against everything inside her that says to turn her back, head for the Misthaven airport, and take off for North Carolina. But Killian’s hand inside her own helps, a lot actually. She lets it ground her, stabilize her. He’s still looking at her with tears in his eyes that makes her uncomfortable, but she’s managing.

Queen Mary Margaret and Prime Minister Mills are standing in the foyer when they arrive. She realizes that everyone else is gone- the secretaries, the dignitaries and diplomats, or whoever else might be in the castle. It’s just them.

“Your Royal Highness,” Regina says, “I’m truly sorry for springing the news on you in an improper way. I apologize.”

Emma tucks some hair behind her ears. It’s still damp from the rain earlier, which has now turned into a gentle mist.

“It’s fine,” she says. “I’m sorry for running away. It’s an old habit, I guess.”

“Emma,” the queen says finally, her voice choked up.

Mary Margaret takes a step forward, her lips pursed to hold back a sob.

Emma realizes that like it or not, this is her life now. She can keep running from it. Or she can embrace it. It doesn’t mean she needs to give up everything. Those details- her thesis, her livelihood, the dumb shrimp forks- they can be sorted out later. But right now, she’s just found out that this woman who has been nothing but a kind motherly figure to her these last few months is her actual real life mother. The least she can do is hug her.

She crosses the space and steps into her arms. It feels like melting, like comfort. Like a blanket wrapped around you on a cold day. Like turning the doorknob on your apartment door. Like a bowl sized cappuccino made just how she likes it. Like home. Mary Margaret, Killian, Misthaven- this was her home. She has a home. She is home.

“I’ve had a few assistants go out to get some Mamie’s coffee and croissants for you,” Mary Margaret says. “And we’ll call in some take away later for dinner.”

Emma doesn’t say that they just got coffee, because really, she always wants coffee. And it sounds, oh so cozy, to drink more coffee in this castle with the Queen. With her mom.

“I was thinking that I could give you a tour of the castle,” Mary Margaret says. “And then maybe, this is silly, but we’ve got these old home videos David used to take of you as a child. They’ve been too painful for me to ever watch, but maybe, since you’re here- we could watch them together.”

Emma smiles. She could do this. And maybe the home videos might even help her process and visualize and remember.

“That sounds great,” Emma tells her.

“I’ll just see you later then,” Killian whispers from behind her.

“No, no,” Mary Margaret says. “Please, Killian, you are family. Stay.”

Emma turns to smile at him and offer him her hand. “Stay.”

It’s late that night when they make it back to Emma’s apartment. After the long, harrowing, revelatory day, the clean white apartment and cozy house plants are the perfect greeting.

Emma is pretty sure she’s never been so tired. The rain and the emotions of the day have left her past drained. She leans on Killian as they walk in.

“Shower,” she mutters, as she stumbles towards the bathroom.

When Killian doesn’t follow immediately, she turns to him, “You too.”

He chuckles, before following her into the bathroom. She turns on the shower and cranks it up as high as it will go. That’s all she can think of right now- warm water and then a long sleep in her bed.

She strips off her clothes. Despite how tired she is, she glances behind her to see Killian’s expression. It’s something of admiration as he takes her in. She smirks and raises her eyebrows, before stepping in.

He’s inside the stream with her, sooner than she expects. The hot water alongside Killian’s arms wrapping around her lulls her and she feels the stress of the day leave her. She lets her eyes flutter closed as she leans back against his chest.

“What did you think of the evening with your mum?” He asks.

Emma smiles at the fact she has a mother. It’s a fact that is going to take a very long time to accept and set in, but for now she’s honoring her personal intention to embrace it.

“It was good,” Emma says.

“You know you can be honest with me,” Killian tells her, his hands moving to rub her shoulders. She realizes all the tensions she’s held in.

“No, I’m being honest,” she insists. “It was like having a family. A very rich, ridiculous family. But a genuine cozy little family.”

Killian nuzzles her hair, before moving to get her lavender aromatherapy body wash. He dabs it on a loofa and begins to rub it all over her.

“It was weird with those videos,” Emma murmurs.

She thinks back to the happy memory from less than an hour ago: of her, Killian, and Mary Margaret piled on a couch in one of the more comfortable lounges of the hilltop castle. They’d had takeaway pizza, which Emma could process now as a gesture from the Queen to be “chill” and let her ease her way into this.

They’d watched these videos of Emma with her family as a child. Baby Princess Emma waltzing with her father. Baby Princess Emma riding around on Prancer in the woods. Baby Princess Emma giggling as she plays tag with Killian down palace corridors. It’s weird to look at that little girl and know that it was her who did those things.

“I guess,” Emma says, as Killian switches from washing to shampooing, “I’ve been thinking for the last months, since I got here, that Princess Emma is this other person. A person who probably hates me for impersonating her. A person who is far more innocent than myself. A person who is probably dead.”

Killian starts rubbing shampoo into her hair and it’s fundamentally soothing. She lets out a soft sigh.

“It’s just weird to think that she’s me,” Emma says. “We are one in the same.”

She turns to face Killian and looks up at him. “You aren’t saying anything. I’m just monologuing here.”

He shakes his head as he runs his finger along the scar on her shoulder.

“I know, love,” He says softly. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I’ve thought you were her this whole time. I know you don’t want to hear it.”

She takes his hand from her shoulder to bring it to her lips to kiss his palm.

“No, it’s fine,” Emma says. “As much as I wanted to deny it, I knew you had your suspicions the whole time. Even last night, you did. And in the end it doesn’t matter, because here we are anyway.”

Killian reaches behind her to turn off the water. He kisses her softly before opening the curtain. He passes her a towel and she wraps it around her shoulders, following him out of the bathroom.

She pulls on a Duke Writing Studio t-shirt and a pair of underwear, before toweling off her hair and crawling into bed. Killian is already there, arms ready to pull her close.

Her eyes flicker closed naturally and she sighs softly.

She supposes that is another good, but terrifying thing about this whole situation: every obstacle of distance that was between her and Killian has faded. Misthaven is her home now.

She knows that she has plenty of thoughts about that to fret over in the future. A tendril of fear and another of anticipation wind in her stomach, but for now the wave exhaustion crashes over and pulls her under.

The next morning, Emma tries to fall into her normal schedule. She needs routine and hard work to ground her. She always has. It’s a coping mechanism.

Killian is still sleeping when she wakes. She makes coffee in the French Press before heading to her desk overlooking the park. She pulls the soft grey blanket off the couch and wraps around herself, before opening up her thesis materials. She’s just a happy little Emma in her quaint, minimalist Misthaven apartment enjoying her coffee and working on her PhD.

She doesn’t know much about what the future holds, but it has to hold her dissertation. She’s spent so much time on it. She’s put in so much work. Looking at it now, she hopes that she won’t look ridiculous for writing her thesis on her own mother’s work or specializing in the literature from the country she is now sovereign of. But she thinks that if she can keep the Blanche Neige secret under wraps and she can probably pass off a decent thesis.

She smiles fondly at herself as she starts typing- she can be the first Princess with a PhD. She googles it just to fact check herself. Frowning, she realizes that a Japanese princess has already beat her to it.

A princess , she reminds herself. She’s still processing it. If she’s being honest, she’s probably at a sort of denial stage in the process because she’s feeling pretty chill about it. The shock of it has worn off, but she’s certain that the reality hasn’t set in yet either.

“How is my princess this morning?” A groggy voice asks from behind her.

She turns to see a disheveled Killian leaning against the door frame of her bedroom. He’s just in boxers and his hair is sticking up in all directions.

She purrs, “Come here.”

He walks behind her chair and loops his arms around her. She feels the scruff of his beard on her cheek as he leans down to give her a kiss.

She turns her head to kiss him on the lips, her hands cupping his face to pull him down to her. His body curves around hers to deepen the kiss and pull her close. She feels so soft and delicate, like she’s something so precious to him. She’s grown to like that feeling- like she matters.

Her arms lift to his shoulders and he uses his own arms to lift her. Her legs curl around his torso.

“Sorry about the coffee breath,” she whispers, self conscious.

“Dammit Emma,” He whispers, as he falls onto the couch.

She transitions perfectly into straddling him. Her hands dive into his gloriously disheveled hair. His head lowers to kiss her neck, then her collarbone, before he settles to lick at the base of her throat.

She hums in pleasure. All her thoughts, her worries, her cares are gone. All she can think of is Killian, the man she loves- and it’s bliss.

Then a phone's ringtone strikes the air and the spell is broken.

Emma stumbles off of him to head for her bedroom where her phone is lying on her bedside table.

“Hello,” she asks, not pausing to glance at the number.

“Emma, darling,” replies Mary Margaret.

Her mom. The queen. Blanche Neige. It’s almost dizzying.

“Oh hey,” Emma says, sitting on the side of her bed.

“I was wondering if you and Killian would like to join me and Regina for brunch,” she says. “We have a lot to go over- publicity, citizenship, castles, balls.”

Emma can hear a smile in her voice, but her own stomach churns. The denial phase is slowly slipping away into something else, some sort of reality setting in. She can’t have slow and silly mornings with her boyfriend because she has princess responsibilities.

But she feels, alongside of that, a weird sense of duty well up in her. Of course, she must be at this meeting. She can tell that just like the night before, the Queen is trying to make it easier for her. She isn’t throwing her into royal duties, just inviting her to a casual brunch.

“Yes, certainly,” Emma says. “We’ll be there.”

“It’ll be at my place,” Mary Margaret says. “The Summer Palace. I’ll send a car for you in about a half an hour. See you then!”

Killian pokes his head in and she explains the brunch meeting.

“I’ve actually got work this morning, love,” He explains. “I can skip it, for certain, darling, if you want. I don’t want you to go alone if you are nervous.”

Emma can’t believe she forgot that Killian has a life outside of her. But of course he does. She senses that everything for them is going to change very soon. “Publicity” the queen said. It may be one of the last times that Killian will get to work in peace, or work at all.

“It’s fine,” Emma says, rising to meet him and kissing his cheek. “Go to work, Killian.”

They launch into action, mutually displeased to leave behind their moment on the couch, but both busy with their plans. Emma changes into a pair of black jeans and a sweater, hoping that it’s a nice enough outfit for brunch with the Queen. Her hair, messy and tangled from sleeping it in wet, goes up into what she hopes suffices as an elegant top knot. A spritz of perfume, a bit of concealer and mascara, a peck on Killian’s lips- and she’s out the door to meet the car.

The Christmas decorations are up in their full glory when Emma arrives at the summer palace: fairy lights, garland, and wreaths of evergreen adoring the palace. She exits the car and is greeted by a doorman who informs her that the Prime Minister and Her Majesty are in the Forest Room. Emma nods and makes her way through the palace, trimmed with Christmas cheer, before finding the tea room.

“Emma, darling,” Mary Margaret says, crossing the room to envelop her in a hug.

Emma wants to resist, because that is her instinct. Flashes of Ingrid, of other foster parents flash through her mind. People she thought she could trust, but proved her wrong. It’s hard to believe that there is actually someone here who truly loves her and won’t leave. But it’s true. So she lets her mother hug her and lets herself relax into the hug. A part of her that has always been raw and ragged, now feels soothed.

“Did you sleep alright?” She asks.

Emma nods.

“Well there is fruit and patisserie on the sideboard, coffee and tea as well. If you prefer a hot breakfast, you can just order from one of the footmen,” The queen directs.

Not being fussy, Emma takes some strawberries and a pain au chocolat. She fills one of the dainty mugs with coffee and then joins Mary Margaret and Regina at the table.

“Shall we dive into it?” The Prime Minister asks. “We need to decide when to send out the press release. I’ve already had it drafted and you can review it if you please.”

She pushes Emma a piece of paper with the official Misthaven seal on it. Emma tries to skim it, but her mind is too all over the place to focus.

“I think it’s best to do it as soon as possible,” Regina informs her. “It would be disastrous if the information was leaked from someone else. Obviously there will be a lot of commotion about it at first. This is, afterall, a nearly impossible event to happen- lost princess finds her way home. So I expect that we’ll have a fair bit of international coverage. It’ll be best if you lay low during that time, avoiding reporters and the like. However, once it dies down, you should be fine. Misthaven is too small to have the insane paparazzi that English and Swedish royals face.”

Emma nods. The words paparazzi makes her squirm and want to run away. She thinks about the simple pleasure of drinking coffee at Mamies or sitting, editing her paper, in Killian’s pub. She wonders if she’ll ever get that pleasure again. Or at least how long she’ll have to wait to do that again.

“We’ll hire you security as well,” The queen adds. “At least until the hype dies down and even after, so we all know you are safe.”

Emma nods again. She wishes she brought a notebook to take notes.

“You’ll obviously move into the house in the Southern Valley,” the Queen tells her. “And we’ll have to make plans for the Christmas ball. It’s a bit last minute for a dress, but we can figure something out.”

Emma feels her forehead crinkle, all of it hitting her too fast to process.

“But, I’m leaving Misthaven next Thursday to be back in America for Christmas,” Emma says. “I already bought the ticket.”

The only way that Emma could buy the ticket was through her grant and fellowship. There was no way she could afford it on her own. She couldn’t just buy another one because she changed her mind about when she wanted to go back.

“What do you mean going back to America?” Regina asks, perplexed.

“To go back to Duke and finish my PhD,” Emma explains.

“Well clearly that isn’t important now, is it?” Regina says.

“What do you mean?” Emma says, startled. Her mind races with defensive thoughts. She can’t lose her thesis. “That’s everything. My life’s work.”

“Emma will finish her PhD,” Mary Margaret says. “Of course she will.”

Emma feels her pounding heart decelerate.

“It might be in your best interest, however,” the Queen says. “To take a semester off. See if you can take a small leave of absence. I’m sure it’s understandable, just so you have time to transition.”

Emma wants to say no. She wants to say that she spends Christmas with Belle and her father each year. She wants poinsettias in the green house and presents under the tree.

But then she thinks about waking up on Christmas morning with Killian beside her. A Christmas tree in her own house. Emma’s never even entertained the thought of having a house of her own before because it seemed too impossible. But now she’ll have one and a family of her own to spend Christmas with. Yes, she’ll have to stay. It seems silly now to have even thought otherwise.

“What about my flight home?” She asks. “I already bought it.”

“Don’t take it, obviously,” Regina says. “I’m not even sure why we are talking about this. You’ve just inherited a hundred million euros, I’m not quite sure why you’re hung up on this.”

Oh.

Emma tries to process a hundred million.

She thinks about stealing concealer from the drugstore because she couldn’t afford it and she wanted to cover up the bruises.

She thinks of eating a grilled cheese every other day and sleeping in the library.

She thinks of all the opportunities she said no to- studying abroad, nights at the theater, dinners out with professors- because she couldn’t afford it.

And now she has a hundred million euros.

Emma doesn’t realize she is crying until her fat tears fall into her coffee cup, a sob coming out of her chest.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret gasps, coming over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. “My dear, what is it?”

Emma tries to breath and chokes on her breath, a hiccup forming.

“I’ve never had money like that,” she says. “Nothing close to that. I’ve always had to scrape and fight for scraps. I don’t know how to have this life now.”

Mary Margaret and Regina exchange a look and the Prime Minister leaves the room. The queen lowers herself down so that she meet Emma face to face.

“Emma,” the queen begins, rubbing her back as tears tumble from Emma’s eyes. “I am terribly sorry that you’ve lived a life you didn’t deserve. I’m so sorry that you’ve had to experience such horrible poverty and so much financial anxiety. I’m sorry for every moment you’ve been lonely. Every moment you’ve wondered where your mum was. I’m sorry that I couldn’t tuck you in at night and take you on nice holidays and buy you new books. I can’t begin to understand what your life has been like, but I can tell you it’s going to be better now.”

Emma sniffles and looks up at her.

“You’ll never want or fret about money. You’ll be able to help others with that money, make a difference in the world. You and Killian will be able to give your kids everything you didn’t have,” The queen says.

The queen beckons Emma into another hug and she obliges.

“You are going to have a good life now, Emma,” the Queen tells her.

Eventually Emma’s tears lull and Regina returns. They start to make plans for Emma’s move, which is to happen in two days. They take her measurements to send to the dressmaker for Emma’s dress for the ball, which will also double as her public debut. And they pass along a debit card for her new royal bank account. Regina advises she starts updating her wardrobe with pieces that are “couture” and informs her that once her move is finished, a stylist will come to help her look a bit more sophisticated.

The comment makes Emma want to roll her eyes, but she decides that isn’t very princess-like and resists.

It’s overwhelming and totally new. But Emma is trying, with all her might, to shove the walls down. If they come up now, she’ll only hurt Mary Margaret and Killian. She hasn’t worked this hard to turn on them.

As the driver takes her back down from the mountaintop palace, she leans her head against the window. She imagines herself turning into a tree, roots growing deep into the ground, branches reaching towards the sky. She tries to think of herself as being unmoved here, firm of purpose and place. Growing a home here in this place, here in Misthaven.

She has the driver drop her off at Mamie’s, where she gets a cappuccino and reads a book of fairy tales. Emma decides she needs to make the most of her last few days of anonymity. It starts to rain again, the weather decidedly cold now, Indian summer behind them. From Mamie’s, she can see Killian’s pub across the street and across the blustery street she can just make him out at the counter. She sends him a text telling him to come over when he finishes his shift.

As she flicks through her phone, she realizes she has a text from Belle.

Sorry to change our usual plans girl, but Will invited me to Misthaven for Christmas to meet his family. Any chance I can convince you to stay in Misthaven for Xmas as well?

Emma taps back.

Haha I just decided today to stay in Misthaven for Christmas too.

Emma smirks to herself and sips her cappuccino as she waits for a response.

Yes, amazing!! Can you stay with Killian then? Is it okay if Will and I take back his apartment?

Rolling her eyes, Emma replies:

In a huge plot twist, I’m actually getting my own place in Misthaven. I’ll explain more later on facetime when I am not at a coffee shop. Loooong story.

#Captain Swan #CS fic #CS fic rec #cs ff #cs ff au #cs modern au #killian jones #emma swan

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ineffablecolors · 5 years ago

Text

The Wife [22/?]

The Wife || Ch 22 ~ 4.4k || Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8 Ch9 Ch10 Ch11 C12 Ch13Ch14Ch15Ch16 Ch17 Ch18 Ch19 Ch20 Ch21 ||FF.NET&AO3

Summary: No one knows all that Emma has been through and certainly no one knows all that Killian has been through and being husband and wife doesn’t make them any less unknown to each other. And really, how can you help someone heal when you don’t even know how hurt they are?

A/N: Hey, guys, sorry for the longer wait. Currently hyperfixating on Ineffable Husbands but I'm not leaving those babies right before the end point so no worries ;)

Upon Alice and Robyn’s arrival, Emma’s life seems to settle for the first time in what is in reality less than half a year but feels very much like a couple of lifetimes. It’s a peculiar feeling to associate with the girls who, more often than not, move like little pocket hurricanes through the house and leave traces of themselves like debris behind.

Emma expects, is almost familiar with, Alice’s uncontainable energy, the childlike capacity for wonder and the safety to be herself and even a bit wilder, a bit freer – somehow more than the self that she presents to most of the world. It’s all Killian’s presence boosted even further, made sweeter, by Robyn’s.

It’s this other young lady that has surprised Mrs Jones. Robyn is all propriety and politeness at first, somewhat quieter than the vague image Emma formed in her head based on Killian and Alice’s stories, somewhat more subdued – her hair always pulled back and her movements strong but contained, her blush fierce whenever Alice’s hand would brush against hers or Alice’s lips would peck her cheek in front of Emma and Killian.

In all fairness, Emma knows – knows from personal experience – that it makes perfect sense for Robyn to be a bit more reserved, a bit more cautious. It just isn’t what she expected. Which is probably for the best. Since it lasts all of a week.

A week and some gradually warmer weather is all it takes for Robyn to start cajoling Emma into trying her aim at one of the practice targets that Killian put up at the very back of the grounds for the girls. A week for Robyn to accept Emma’s offer to take Buttercup out for a ride with Jolly and Alice. A week for her to start coming down to breakfast with her hair in a state that makes Ruby groan in near pain. A week for her to settle hip to hip with Alice in the library and another to rest her head in Alice’s lap while they race each other over the identical copies of whatever book Killian has bought them last.

“You do know this is all on you, don’t you?”

Emma looks away from the dissolving clumps of cinnamon in her cocoa and picks both mugs, heading toward the door and inclining her head in an invitation for her husband to follow. She and Killian retiring to their bedroom before midnight is another development that has been, at least partially, brought on by the girls’ presence and their love for lazing around in the library late into the night. Emma has settled into that without too much protest as well.

“What is?” she asks on her way up the stairs and grins at the way Killian glances down the corridor, toward the library door – part guilt and part suspicion that Emma has decided only parents can imbue with quite so much fondness and frustration at the same time.

“This. The usurpation.”

Her laughter makes a little bit of cocoa slosh over the rim of one mug and she bites her lip and glances guiltily at the spot on the stairs but Killian waves a dismissive hand and urges her up the stairs. Emma likes to think she would have normally protested and made them stop and clean up but his urging takes the form of his hand fitting neatly under her bottom and almost lifting her toward the next rung so she feels decidedly overruled on this one.

“Usurpation?” she giggles again as Killian crowds her against their bedroom door for a moment before turning the handle.

“Aye. I’ve been going to bed at a time befitting a gentleman quite a bit older than myself for weeks now.”

“Ah, yes, because it is all peaceful rest that transpires in this room.”

Emma does so love the way she can still make her eloquent husband sputter with barely an allusion to bedroom activities.

“That is entirely beside the point, love. I adore my daughter and I’m absolutely delighted how at ease you have set Robyn. But frankly, a father is happy with the abstract knowledge of his daughter’s successful romance, not very concrete encounters with it.”

There is a barely restrained current of amusement under Killian’s words and Emma makes sure that he sees her eyeroll and her knowing look before she sets their mugs on the floor before the fireplace and sits down with her back to him.

Killian’s knees press under the small of her back as he lowers himself behind her and works his clever fingers beneath the laces of her dress.

Of course, he is not entirely unjustified in his indignation, however playful.

When the library was usurped, as he put it, they tried sequestering themselves in his study but Killian found the idea of spending his evenings where he spend the majority of his days understandably less than appealing. Any period longer than the time required for the manifestation of some hot chocolate in the kitchen earned them Granny’s vocal displeasure and, as soon as the world outside started thawing, the chances of them running into Alice and Robyn in the garden were just as good as stumbling on an intimate scene in the library. Alice maintains that her father built that swing in the back for her so really it is them who have been trespassing.

And Emma has to agree with Killian – she is overjoyed to see the girls happy and in love but the image of her step-daughter loosening a corset is not one she needs imprinted on her mind. So, their bedroom it is – the last stronghold that they haven’t happily relinquished control of.

“What do you mean I have set Robyn at ease?” she twists her head to look at Killian over her shoulder.

He gives her a look that says he can answer her immediately but instead takes his time to finish undoing her dress and run his fingers through her hair a few times even though it has been free and loose all day.

“I’m confident in the very amicable relationship I have with Robyn,” he starts eventually, when Emma turns around to face him and takes a sip of her drink. “But surely you realize that it is you who has made her feel comfortable and at home here, my queen.”

“I wouldn’t say— That is I have…”

She has been trying to do exactly that actually, she just never connected the desired result with her efforts.

“I think it was the horse,” Killian says with a light in his eyes that she suspects has much to do with her own expression of realization. “I’d never let her ride my horse.”

“You’d never let anyone ride Roger and thank god for that. He’d probably kill just about anyone else.”

Killian hums as if the idea has quite a bit of merit and he is perfectly alright with that. When he moves to kiss her, the vision of him astride his gorgeous and equally dangerous beast is not far from her mind.

*****

She is already naked, still kneeling in front of the fireplace but now with her husband pressed fully –intimately – against her back, his hand low on her stomach, holding her to him and upright and grounded – she is already half gone by the time the thought crosses her mind – of the possible consequences of this, of the desired consequences.

At first, Emma was almost afraid that it will spoil it, that the constant hope and expectation and wondering of maybe this time will erode some of the sheer enjoyment of making love to Killian. She thinks maybe it did, the first few days – not so much erode as strain, add a particular weight to the act, send vibrations of anticipation along the link between them. But it is rather difficult to anticipate anything else when she has Killian all around her, inside her. The answer of him outweighing any question of anything else.

And then, a couple of weeks after she convinced her husband that they should at least try, on a night when they came to bed late, after too much food and some wine, and came together with the minimal amount of movement and effort and removal of nightclothes required, Emma realized that if they never get there, if she never gets anything but this, it will be alright. It will be more than alright, it will be enough for her to be iridescently happy for the rest of her days.

And now, as Killian’s hand slips lower and she can feel the scratch of his hair and the cool points of his nipples against her back, as he whispers things that make her bite her lip and try to swallow down the tidal wave in her chest, she forgets there is any point to this other than chasing that hill that Killian has shown her how to climb and making him jump off with her.

*****

None of that can quite keep down the instinctive longing she feels when she holds Mary Margaret’s newborn son for the first time but it certainly helps her smile and coo at him in genuine delight instead of masked resentment.

He is healthy and lovely and Mary Margaret looks so splendid and relaxed that Emma has a hard time imagining Leo’s birth including anything but her friend smiling serenely and sighing happily as she coaxes her baby to join her into the world with just a few whispered words. It’s a preposterous image, of course, but the more Emma listens to Mary’s lilting voice and watches her cradle her baby, the more she cannot picture anything else. There is a vague thought at the back of her mind that, even if she were able to bring a child into the world, there is no way she is able to do it as gracefully and seemingly effortlessly as Mary Margaret.

So she spends all her joy in the Nolan’s picturesque home and she stares unseeingly out of the window on the ride back home and then, as soon as she sets foot on the stones leading to the house, she has another vision in her mind. One of her finally taking one of Robyn’s bows and shooting arrow after arrow at the target, each one sinking it with satisfying success, perfect execution, perfect control. She starts walking around the house before she has had time to scoff at herself.

And Robyn is exactly where Emma imagined she would be, alone like she imagined she would be. It fuels Emma’s fantasy.

“Emma!”

The girl smiles brightly at her. She stopped calling her Mrs Jones around the time she stopped glaring at Alice every time she tugged on Robyn’s braid to try and bring her cheek to Alice’s lips.

Emma’s dramatic response is to throw her hat to the damp grass, pulling a few hairs on the way and squaring her shoulders. She doesn’t ask, she just takes one of the bows Robyn is not using. Emma has always been good enough with her hands, she only needs to see something done once or twice to be able to replicate it almost exactly. This is probably the reason she actually manages to cock the arrow properly. The adrenaline in her veins and the vision in her mind’s eye is probably the reason she manages to pull her arm back, a tremble going down her spine as she lets the arrow fly.

It shouldn’t be a surprise, it should be anything but, when the arrow dives down and falls impotently to the grass before even reaching the target.

Some part of Emma hears Robyn make a sputtering, helpless sound but all the rest of her is focused on keeping her muscles from shaking off the bones of her arm as she pulls another arrow back and watches it sail far to the left.

“Emma, let me at least show—“

The third one she can’t even pull all the way back and it takes everything inside her not to throw the bow to the ground and stomp her foot like a petulant child.

Then Emma feels a pair of arms wrap around her and with a little twist, a strangled sound and a hum that almost manages to settle her trembling hands, half of her weight is no longer on her feet, her fingers grapple with unfamiliar fabric and her face is buried in blonde curls. For the next few minutes she just clings to Alice.

“First time around, I couldn’t even pull it all the way back.”

The words are warm against the side of Emma’s head, the levity inside them isn’t really forced and there is a thread of admiration running through them that Emma doesn’t deny herself from picking up.

“Oh, yes, I’m a natural.”

She feels the vibrations of her and Alice’s laughter undulate against each other and flow together.

“I wouldn’t rule it out,” Robyn’s voice is tentative behind them and Emma lets one of her arms drop away from Alice so she can turn around and give her an apologetic smile. “It’s not really… an emotional sport.”

Emma manages to chuckle a little and nods.

“Maybe you can give me a proper lesson and demonstration. Tomorrow?”

Robyn’s smile is bright and excited and Alice’s hand tightens on Emma’s waist and Emma feels the little pockets of emptiness that tried to fit themselves into her heart filling again.

“I think papa was just going for a ride.”

Emma gives Alice a grateful smile and Robyn one last hopeful look.

“Tomorrow then?”

“Tomorrow. Go on before I make you gather the arrows you shot.”

She doesn’t feel all that childish when she runs off or perhaps she just doesn’t care.

*****

Killian has just swung into his saddle when she rounds the corner of the stables. She supposes the pinkness of her face, the labored breathing and her hair flying all over the place justifies the startled look on his face but she lifts her hand to stop him from getting off his horse and makes her way to him at a slightly more reasonable pace.

“Take me with you, my heart?”

She holds her hand towards him and doesn’t squirm or doubt when Killian looks her over with a raised eyebrow and narrowed eyes before he nods and helps her settle behind him. Roger makes a noise that seems to indicate that this is a one time thing that they are being allowed and then they are off.

They ride in silence until the house looks like she can put it in her pocket. Killian knows where she was, he offered to go with her, she thinks next time she will let him. But she doesn’t regret going alone now, she doesn’t even regret her display with the bow and arrows, she doesn’t regret anything at all as she presses her breasts firmly into Killian’s back, her hands into his sides and her nose into the hair on the back of his neck.

It’s so different from leaning into Alice’s softness and hanging onto a frame no bigger than her own but the certainty that they will hold her up and keep her until she grows warm and sure again is almost identical.

*****

They come back when the sun has almost completely disappeared, both starting to shiver a little from the early spring wind. The damp patches on his trousers hardly help, he has missed one leaf in Emma’s hair and quite a few little twigs that embedded themselves in her coat, so Killian squeezes her wrist and drags his wife up the stairs before anyone can catch sight of them. He will have to forsake the right to grumble and roll his eyes at Alice and Robyn if either sees them in this state. Though they might go easy on Emma today from what she told him – he squeezes her soft hand again and pulls her closer to his side as they rush into their room and start the process of making each other presentable again.

He watches her carefully still, trying to spot a certain rigidness in her shoulders or a tightening around her mouth but it’s all gone now. He runs his hand down her spine as she takes off his brace and kisses the corners of her lips while she tries to tame his hair, just to make sure.

It’s mostly habit that makes Killian peak into the library when they make their way back downstairs and he does a double take when he finds it empty. They exchange a disbelieving look but make quick work of spreading themselves over the pillows left in front of the fire. The look Granny gives them upon entering the room makes it quite clear that she still hasn’t decided who is the most immature individual living under this roof.

“Supper will be another hour, seeing as the Misses decided to take a bath.”

Killian honestly has no idea what possesses him to arrange his features the way he does or say what he does – no idea other than the warmth of the fire and Emma’s head on his thigh where she has buried her nose in a novel she has been trying to snatch from Alice for a week, no idea but wanting to see Granny put her hands on her hips and huff and storm out.

“Ah, that is quite alright. Perhaps, in the meantime, you can bring us some of those biscuits Ruby was making earlier.”

Granny doesn’t disappoint him.

*****

Killian Jones has spent a likely disconcerting amount of his 40 years of life on the floor.

When he was young, the day the summer firmly turned the tide and the heat overpowered even the night coldness, he would sneak a blanket from under his mother’s nose and go to sleep on the still warm grass outside, trying to read words in the stars until his eyes betrayed him. He doesn’t count those years on the grass.

When he was in the Navy, few things rankled more than sharing space with men that were as far from the title of a “gentleman” as one could get and yet, space on a ship was scarce and sharing it was not really a question of preference and sensibility, so he would trudge up from the crew’s quarters and find himself a square of planks that looked almost as fine as the bunks below them and try to remember what stories he used to read in the stars when he was young. He doesn’t count those years on the planks.

When he returned from sea, the concept of earth under his feet at all times seemed preposterous and yet, the sight and feel of chairs and settees seemed even more so, and when he could get away with it – meaning not around Liam or anyone they did business with and not around any ladies (not until Milah) who felt it an offence to be in the company of someone so queer about such a simple matter as sitting – he would much rather sit on the floor than on any furniture designed for that express purpose. He doesn’t count those years on the floor.

When Alice was born, with all her quick little limbs and her devious little mind, with her innocent baby face and all her ideas defying gravity and logic, he found it much sounder to spread his papers and books on the carpet around her, to keep pen and paper and baby all within the reach of his hands – not to mention, how much better he could delight in exactly those devious little tricks of hers when they were sharing almost the same height and surface. He doesn’t count those years on the carpet.

When they came back from the war, it was Liam who would grab two pillows and throw them before the fireplace whenever Killian stayed over after dinner dragged on too long or the rum kept flowing a bit too late, and Killian never quite figured out if his brother did it for him or for himself and perhaps he was reluctant to ask because it was the best sleep he got for the first couple of years after and perhaps because, whoever it was for, they both needed it. He does count those years in front of the fire.

When he got married, nothing felt quite right – not taking her arm when they walked down the street, not introducing her as the mistress of the house to staff and guests alike, not sharing a table with her on the occasion when he slept in too late or got lured into the dining room around supper, not raising a child with her – to whatever degree what she did could be called raising anything, rather than bringing down things that Alice had cultivated herself or Killian had carefully, secretly, nurtured, and certainly not sharing a bed with her, so he was rather glad for all the practice he’d had of sleeping on grass and planks and carpets alike so that, when he couldn’t stomach the thought of lying down beside her and couldn’t escape the room altogether, the floor felt like no big sacrifice. He does count those years on the floor.

When Milah was gone for honour and Eloise was gone because the world had decided to finally let him breathe a little and Alice was gone because he loved her too much, he had all the rooms and beds and linen that one could wish for and that, most likely, was why every other week he would still find himself sleeping on the floor before the fireplace – not with his brother because his brother had grown up and then he’d healed and then he’d found love that he could keep – thinking that maybe the following night he would take a blanket and sneak out into the back garden and see if there has been anything new written in the stars. He does count those lonely years on his own.

Now he remembers the last time he slept on the floor. A month ago? A bit more? They hadn’t made love on the floor the way they had a number of times before, hadn’t even taken more than one pillow and the throw from the armchair a couple of feet away. They hadn’t meant to stay there that long at all and then, the next thing Killian was aware of was the sunshine hitting his face at an unusual angle and his back feeling stiff beneath him and his neck doubly so, and then he opened his eyes to see his bedroom ceiling from a point that he hadn’t in a while, since some weeks before Emma first set foot in the house, with the woman in question, lying on his chest, her arm wrapped uselessly around the only pillow that neither of them seemed to have used and snoring lightly in a way that made him want to laugh and wake her with kisses to the back of her neck all in the same breath. He does count that morning.

All in all, his time lying on the floor has vastly improved as of late but this – this is by far his favourite. So he tries to catalogue and store away all the details – the soft depths of the pillow under his head, the scratch of the carpet under his right elbow where Emma rolled up his sleeve as he was preparing drinks; the smell of chocolate and cardamom tea and something stronger that he and Robyn spiced their respective beverages with; the quiet, random popping of the logs in the fireplace and the faintest traces of smoke in the warm air; the texture of the book he keeps splayed open with his fingers and the light rasp of the page under his thumb; the feel of Emma’s toes digging into his shoulder as they all lie in a circle of their own making, their shoes lined perfectly under the table.

It feels like a scene from a children’s book, he would bet it looks like one as well. He feels his skin itch from the joy of it.

“Now, how does this work exactly, darling?” he tries to introduce some reluctance into his tone but is afraid it comes out just painfully fond.

“You read a page and then I read the next and then Robyn reads the next and then Emma reads the next and then it’s you again.”

“Right. Splendid. But what precisely is the purpose of this orchestrated reading?”

“The purpose is that we all read at the same speed and I do not find out that Beth is going to die because Emma gasped in horror ten pages ahead.”

Killian tilts his head back to watch in amusement as his wife’s face floods with color.

“And I reckon it would be rather nice, don’t you?”

He drops his chin to his chest so he can now catch his daughter who has propped herself on his knee, her eyes bright and wide and so earnest that he can’t do anything but agree.

Before the night is through, the book makes ten full turns around their circle, passing from hand to hand, sighs and grumbles and indignant exclamations when it is dropped and the page lost, but mostly the pleasant change of tone and tempo as they take their turns and experience the story together.

Killian doesn’t know when he falls asleep – it might have been Alice’s too gentle voice or Robyn’s somewhat unadorned reading or perhaps the calming sound of Emma’s tones that his mind associates with safety and rest. He imagines she went to pass him the book, keeping her ring finger carefully marking the page, only to not find his hand waiting to receive it. He imagines Alice rolled her eyes and made a comment and Robyn shushed her and urged her up with a squeeze of her ankle and Emma marked the page and shuffled closer to him. He is quite certain about that last one because he wakes up on the floor, to the fire almost dying and the girls long in bed, with Emma’s front pressed against his side, her fingers running absent-mindedly though his hair and her breath teasing his throat.

He most certainly counts this one.

*****

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mystical-flute · 6 years ago

Text

Black Coffee & Pumpkin Pie - Ch. 4

Ao3 || Ko-fi

"You're sure you're ready to introduce me to your family?" Alice asked, still sitting in the passenger's seat of Margot's car, playing with the lace on her shirt.

Margot smiled and kissed her head. "Of course I am. It's been almost a year after all. It's time for you to meet them. They'll love you, I promise. My family is super accepting, don't worry. None of them are anything like your mom."

Alice shivered a little at the memory of introducing Margot to her mother. It hadn't ended well, and she and Margot had been traveling Europe trying to forget the tantrum her mother had thrown. Despite Margot's assurance that her family was going to be more accepting of their relationship, Alice still felt a bit uneasy.

"Are you okay?" Margot asked with a small frown.

Alice nodded. "Yes. I trust you, Margot. With my life."

Margot looked out the window and smiled as a car pulled up behind them. "That's my mom. I'll be right back. I'll wave to you when I'm ready." With that, she hopped out of the car and ran up to her mother, leaving the door open so Alice could hear their conversation.

"I had no idea you'd be home. If you'd called ahead of time I would have been home by the time you got back. I hope you haven't been waiting too long," Margot's mother said with a smile.

"No, not too long at all. Traffic was a nightmare getting through Augusta or we would have been here sooner."

"'We'? Margot, who is 'we'?"

Margot's cheeks flushed a brilliant pink, before she waved Alice over. With a bright smile and a bounce in her step, Alice hopped out of the car and waved.

"Mom… this is Alice Jones. My girlfriend."

The mother paused for a moment, looking at the pair of them together, before giving the women a warm smile. "Oh. Oh Margot I'm so happy for you! Hello Alice. My name's Zelena. Welcome to Storybrooke."

Alice gave Zelena a relieved look. "It's so nice to meet you Zelena. Margot told me so much about you and Storybrooke that I just had to come with her when she said she was ready to come home."

And to get away from my crazy mother.

Chuckling, Zelena shook her head. "That's my daughter for you, wanderlust has her heart, but it looks like you've managed to fight it off. But Margot," she said, her tone turning urgent as she looked at her again, "it really is a good thing you've come home. I don't know if my message got through, but Bobby's been in the hospital for a week now. He was in the abandoned mines and got trapped."

Margot's face fell. "What? Oh no! I should get to the hospital right away."

"I'll take you. Here darling, get your things in the house and we'll go. Alice… would you like to come with us?"

Alice was surprised at the question. "I – me? I dunno, that seems like something you guys should do by yourelves. Trust me. I can even make dinner if you want. Though… it'd only be marmalade sandwiches but – "

"Alice, I want you there. If it's as bad as Mom says, I'm going to want you there with me. Besides, I'm sure the family wouldn't mind meeting you, even if it is under this set of circumstances," Margot said softly. "You might be the thing they need to cheer up somewhat."

"You think so?"

"I do."

"Well… alright then," Alice said with a weak smile.

Soon enough, Zelena was leading Margot and Alice down the hall to Bobby's hospital room, where two adults, whom Alice could only assume were his parents.

"Aunt Mary? Uncle David?" Margot said softly.

"Hm? Oh! Margot! Zelena, you didn't tell us she was home," Mary-Margaret said with a small smile as she stood and embraced her.

Zelena smiled. "It was a surprise to me too, Mary-Margaret. You know I would've told you otherwise. And she brought someone along with her, I hope that's okay."

Alice shuffled nervously as she looked at the pair. Maybe it was a bad idea for her to come right now…

"Oh – no, of course it's fine. We trust her," the dark-haired woman said as she rose from her chair. "My name is Mary-Margaret Nolan, and this is my husband David. And, you are?"

"My name is Alice. Alice Jones. It's nice to meet you both. I'm sorry it isn't under the best circumstances though," Alice said with a shy smile and she shook both of their hands. "I'm Margot's girlfriend."

"It's a pleasure, Alice. Welcome to Storybrooke," David said. "If there's anything you need, feel free to find me at the sheriff's station. I'm the seriff."

Alice gave David a bright smile, lighting up at the mention of a sheriff. "Oh! My papa's a detective in Seattle! I think you'd really like him!"

David smiled. "Is he now? Always nice to hear of another police officer."

Alice nodded, before looking at the boy in the bed and biting her lip. "So… this is your son, right? What happened?"

"Storybrooke was a mining community when it was first founded, but we eventually closed them down. Despite how well-sealed the mines were, teenagers always managed to find a way inside. We'd hoped, with David being the sheriff and being at every rescue, that our kids would know better than to go down there but…" Mary-Margaret explained with a resigned shrug. "The mine shaft he was in began to collapse, so there was a lot of dust that got into his lungs. We're hoping the damage isn't permanent."

She could only stare at Mary-Margaret. "Oh – I'm so sorry, Mary-Margaret. I hope he gets better soon."

"Thank you Alice. It was so nice of you to come."

"Can I ask another question?"

"Of course; I have nothing to hide."

"Are you and Zelena sisters? Margot talked about all of you but, no offense, you don't look all that much like Zelena," Alice asked. She was insanely curious about that fact, despite knowing that it could be a little offensive, and she inwardly kicked herself for saying it out loud to a woman whose son was laying in a hospital bed.

To Alice's surprise, Mary-Margaret actually chuckled softly and shook her head. "No, Zelena and I aren't sisters. The story is a little more complicated than that. See – "

Mary-Margaret was cut off from her story at the sudden sound of choking. Robert Nolan's eyes were wide open, and he coughed around the tube in his throat.

"Doctor Whale!" David screamed, and Alice stepped out of the room with wide eyes to give the family some privacy as a doctor and several nurses raced by her.

"Well, this is going much better than it did with my mother!" She thought, pleased with how things were turning out. "Despite something happening with Bobby, of course. I hope he's okay. That sounded bad…"

She paused when she saw a pair of men walking down the hallway. Was that…? No, it couldn't be.

Could it?

"Bae?" she said with wide eyes as she looked at one of the men.

Neither man seemed to pay much attention, with one of them turning and walking down another hallway.

Huh.

"Hello to you too!" the second man said, waving to her. Briefly, Alice was confused, wondering when she'd greeted him, until she realized that 'hey' started a lot like 'Bae'.

Alice cleared her throat. "Yes, hello. Are you going to visit Robert?"

"I am," he replied. "Come with a card from the fire station and everything. You were visiting him too, I assume? I don't recognize you though."

"Oh – I'm Alice. I'm Margot Mills' girlfriend," Alice replied with a small smile. "I came here with her."

"Pleasure to meet you Alice. I'm Ali. Margot huh? I didn't realize she was back in town. Anyway, are they accepting visitors?"

Alice could only shrug. "I dunno. He started coughing and the doctor and nurses ran in so I stepped outside. I don't know what happened after that."

Ali frowned. "Oh geez. I'll go check. Thanks. And it was nice to meet you again."

"You too Ali!" Alice said in a chipper tone, continuing down the hallway, a spring in her step. She glanced down the hallway the man that she'd seen with Ali disappear down. She didn't see him again though, which caused a small frown appear on her face. Why did he seem to be so familiar, despite the distance they'd had?

Ah, well. Maybe she was wrong. That happened sometimes. Instead of dwelling on it, Alice paused in front of a vending machine, glancing through the options.

"Would you like anything, Alice?"

She started, looking over to find Zelena next to her.

"Oh – I don't know. I'm just browsing," Alice said.

"You look like you're deep in thought. Is everything okay?"

Alice shrugged. "Well, yes or no? I'm not too sure actually. Ali, that man that just went into Bobby's room? There was someone else with him."

Zelena frowned. "Was there? Ali was the only one to come inside…"

"Yeah, but that's because the other guy walked down another hallway. I would just shrug it off since maybe he's here to visit someone else but… I don't know, Zelena, if I didn't know any better, I'd say he looked a lot like my cousin before he ran away…"

She didn't notice the look in Zelena's eyes, quickly masked by a face of concern. "Your cousin ran away? Well… you know Alice, I'm a private investigator, if you'd like, I can help you find him. Why don't you tell me all about him?"

Alice beamed at the woman. "Thank you Zelena, that would be amazing!"

-----

Neal felt his hands shaking as he ducked down a far hallway from where his intended destination. Shit. Shit. What the hell was Alice doing here? Why was she here?

More importantly, what was he going to do?

Tugging at his hair, Neal exhaled slowly. Dammit all. As much as he'd liked hanging around Alice before he'd run away from home, he really didn't want her to blow things for him right now. Looking around, Neal dropped into a free chair in the small lounge he'd found and put his phone to his ear.

"Neal, honey, what's the matter?" Eudora's voice came from the other end of the line.

"Mama…" he breathed, keeping his eyes peeled for anyone that could be coming near. "I need some advice. Badly."

"Of course, what is it?"

"It's my cousin. My stepfather's niece. She's here in town. I haven't seen him since I ran away from them and… I don't want her to recognize me."

"So let me guess, you ran down another street so she wouldn't see you or talk to you?" she guessed with a small hum. "Thus making her more suspicious if she had any to begin with?"

"Well, I…"

"Neal… you know you're going to have to tell your daddy you're there soon, right?"

"I know, Mama. But I'm still trying to find information on him before I tell him I'm here," Neal sighed. "He seems shady, like Mom and Killian would say."

"That doesn't mean they're right about everything regarding him. You know that."

"I know…"

"Besides, maybe you can recruit her to help keep your secret. You told me she was the only one out of your family that you trusted in the end. I'm sure you can trust her now, Neal. And remember, if you ever want to come home…"

"I know. I can go back to New Orleans."

Eudora chuckled an affirm. "You should come back soon though. I'm sure Tiana would love to see you back home. And we could really use your help at the restaurant."

He laughed softly. "I'll see what time off I can get, mama. I promise."

"Of course. I wouldn't want to take you away from your work, honey. Call me soon, okay?"

"I will. Bye, Mama."

Neal ended the call, feeling slightly calmer now that he'd spoken with Eudora. Maybe she was right. Maybe letting Alice in on his plans wouldn't be such a terrible idea.

He just hoped she wasn't too suspicious of him already.

A few days later, Neal found himself sitting at the counter at Granny's.

"Did you want anything else, Neal?" Emma asked with a smile as she slid over his plate of food. "Maybe some mayo so you can make that ketchup-mayo stuff you seem so keen on?"

He laughed. "You actually remembered that? But yeah, sure, I'd love some, if it isn't too much trouble."

"Not at all. It's my pleasure."

He laughed. "Wow, you're really working for a big tip aren't you?" he teased.

"Well, you know, cars are expensive. And I might be planning a trip with some of my friends and I want a little spending money," she hummed in response.

His brow raised as she slid a small thing of mayo over to him. "A trip, huh? Where are you going?"

Emma beamed. "My friends and I are planning to head to New Orleans actually. For spring break. I'd love to be able to go over the winter break but with Hanukkah, Christmas, and New Years in December, it's a bit hectic."

Neal smiled, stirring the ketchup and mayo together. "New Orleans, really? That's ironic. If you want me to give you some good, local places to go to just let me know. Those are the best places to be, not necessarily the tourist traps."

"Really? That'd be great! Thanks Neal!"

"Course, any time."

"I get off at five if you want to come by the farm and talk about it."

He blinked in surprise. "Uh. Are you sure? Aren't your parents going to be busy with Robert and everything?"

She waved off the worry. "My parents won't mind. Besides, Bobby's actually doing better, so they've relaxed a lot in the last few days. He woke up! And the doctors say his levels are going back to normal! It's really amazing, even if I still want to kill him for scaring us like that in the first place."

"I can't say I blame you," Neal replied with a small laugh and taking out his phone to check the time. "Alright. I'll hang out here at 5:00 and you can show me the way."

"See you tonight," Emma said with a small wink and a giggle that had Neal's heart beating just a little bit faster.

Neal nodded as she wandered off to check on some of the tables, and began eat until the door opened, and Alice walked in, holding hands with another woman.

He hid a smile behind his glass and nodded to Alice once when he caught her staring.

"Is that you, Bae?" she murmured, leaning against the stool next to him.

He glanced around, making sure no one was around before answering. "Yes. It's been a long time, Alice."

"Where have you been? Do you know how worried we've been about you?" Alice whispered. "Why did you do that, Bae? Why did you leave?"

Neal exhaled. "Please, don't call me that. I go by Neal now. I'm here to figure out my past."

"What?"

"My dad and everything. Alice, please don't tell anyone. You're the only one I trusted before I ran away. I'm trusting you again with this."

Alice's eyes got wide. "I – yes, okay. I'll keep your secret. I promise. I won't even tell Papa you're here. I'm just… I'm just so glad to see you B – Neal. I'm so glad you're okay."

Neal smiled at her and squeezed her shoulder. "I'm glad to see you too, Alice. I missed you."

"Alice! You ready to sit down?"

Alice looked over and grinned at the woman that had called her, nodding. "Be right there!" With another glance at Neal, she whispered "girlfriend", before heading over to the booth where the other woman waited.

Neal leaned against the counter with a smile. Damn, he was glad to have an ally in this town.

"This must be a bit of a culture shock for you, huh?" Emma asked as they made their way up to the large farmhouse later that evening. "Coming from New Orleans and all."

Neal nodded. "Yeah, kinda. What's your dad even farm, anyway?"

"Vegetables, mostly. But we have sheep and a couple cows. You'd never guess that Dad's such a country boy when you see him in action, but he really is."

He chuckled. "Well it's a nice farm. I'm sure my sister would be in awe of the fresh produce here. She loves to cook."

"You have a sister?"

"Yeah, Tiana. She's the one that encouraged me to come here, actually."

"What, was she that desperate to get rid of you?" she teased, pushing the front door open. "Mom, Dad, I'm home!"

"Hey sweetheart. Your dad took Eva to the hospital to visit Bobby," Mary-Margaret said as she appeared from what Neal could only assume was the dining room. "Oh? Who is this?"

"I'm Neal Cassidy. I just arrived in town a couple of weeks ago. I'm a firefighter. Emma asked me here to help her plan her trip to New Orleans."

She smiled. "Oh yes, of course. Regina mentioned you the other day when she was over. It's so nice to finally meet you. I'm Mary-Margaret, the principal of the elementary school. I'm sure you're tired of hearing this, but thank you for helping to save my son."

"All part of the job, ma'am. It's nice to meet you too. I've heard a lot about you from the guys at the station," he said politely.

Mary-Margaret laughed lightly. "Oh I'm sure. Alright, I'll let you guys plan the trip Emma. But Neal? Just make sure they're safe?"

He nodded, taking a seat at the table with Emma. "Of course I will. I promise."

They were left alone, Emma pulling out a piece of paper and a pen. "Okay! Spill all the details about New Orleans."

So he did, and the dining room was filled with laughter, their chairs slowly getting closer and closer, their cheeks flushing pink at the shared charge in the room.

Finally, Neal decided to do something about it. "Hey uh – Emma… did you maybe wanna go to the Fireman's Ball with me? It's coming up soon and I really don't know what I'm doing."

Emma looked up at him and grinned. "I'd like that Neal. I'd like that a lot."

While he couldn't have imagined that this was where the night would go, Neal had to admit, he didn't exactly mind, and he returned to Granny's that night with a clear head and a spring in his step.

He may not have had much information on his dad yet, but he wouldn't complain that someone had caught his eye.

#swanfire #emma swan #neal cassidy #fanfiction #black coffee and pumpkin pie

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freechoicedreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Body and Soul (Ch. 13)

AO3

Opening Theme

“And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, Speak to us of Children. And he said: Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself. They come through you but not from you, And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday. You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth. The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far. Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness; For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable ”

(Kahlil Gibran, On Children)

Storybrooke, Alice and Robyn's home

The sun is already high when Robyn and Alice begin to wake up, although for a summer morning this is not a sign that they are waking up too late. Turning around in bed, Robyn looks at Alice's sleepy, completely naked form — a tempting invitation to a new ecstasy and melting of bodies and souls. Burning with desire, she reaches out to hug her wife and pull her closer to her own naked body, not resisting the urge to kiss Alice's soft, parted lips, smiling as if in a good dream.

"Hmmm…" Alice yawns, languidly and lazingly licking Robyn's lips before passionately surrendering to the kiss, "Is it dawn yet?"

"Uh, a little bit," Robyn can barely answer, trembling when Alice deepens the kiss while erotically caressing her breasts, sensuously reaching down to touch her most sensitive and totally wet, pulsating with desire, parts.

...

They made love for almost two hours - insatiably, tirelessly and passionately in a succession of multiple orgasmic waves floating in their private ocean of pleasure. Alternating between screams and whispers, almost breathless and delirious, their moans would keep echoing in the loft in an almost endless climax if it wasn't for Alice's phone ringtone bringing them back to Earth.

"What the hell?" Robyn mutters, disheveled and still shivering from the shock waves from which they were shaken.

Gasping, trying to process and absorb the reality of having to return to a time-space dimension, Alice reaches out to pick up her phone, recognizing Dr. Maturin's office number.

"Hellooo…" she whispers with a sexy voice practically moaning, and then tries again with a firmer voice, "Hello!"

"Alice Jones?" Maturin's secretary asks.

"Aye… that's me…"

"Oh, good morning. I'm calling to remind you about yours and your wife’s appointments and IVF procedures with Dr. Maturin this afternoon, should I confirm them?"

"Sure! Count on us! Ah… Thank you and… See you soon!"

"Bloody hell, Robyn, our appointments are today, I forgot about that completely, you know, when I woke up I just had time to remember that you and I didn't need to work today and could make love endlessly, you know, cause today is Saturday!"

"I know! Me too Alice! What happened is that when I woke up and looked at you, my mind went blank and erased the appointments... I just couldn't resist your smile this morning, you looked so peaceful, so beautiful, so inviting, I had to kiss your lips and repeat last night. I can't help being completely in love and attracted to you, Alice, you do this to me…"

"You were the one putting that smile on my lips, my love, because I was dreaming of you. You and I, we were together walking hand in hand in a luminous field, full of bright spots of light in the air. They were like tiny little beings of light and some of them were just there, waiting for us to pick them up…"

"Oh… maybe they will be our babies, waiting for us…"

"Maybe… but let's start the day, Honey, we only have time for a shower and a brief breakfast - and I'm starving!"

…

"Good to know that you are both ready, Alice and Robyn," Stephen Maturin welcomes them.

"Wouldn't skip the appointments for nothing, Dr…" Alice starts to say but he cuts her, "please, call me Stephen…"

"Right, Stephen, we really want to try a double pregnancy, our only doubt was about being cross-surrogates as we initially planned…"

"You could try, but would be running more risks in a process that is already too complex and risky. I'm glad you decided to try IVF with your own eggs. At the end of the day the children will be yours the same way… So, let's take a look at your ovaries. Who will go first?"

…

After examining Alice and Robin, he confirms what they expected. "Your cycles are incredibly synchronized so today is indeed the best day for both procedures. As you obviously know, to use your own eggs you began your treatment, at the start of your cycle, with synthetic hormones to stimulate your ovaries to produce multiple eggs — rather than the single egg that normally develops each month. Multiple eggs are needed because some eggs won't fertilize or develop normally after fertilization: that means your ovaries are with the perfect production for the In vitro fertilization. What I will do now is to collect mature eggs from your ovaries and fertilize them with an anonymous donor's sperm, in a lab - the kids will be blood-related through their biological father. Then the fertilized egg (embryo) or eggs (embryos) will be transferred to your uterus. One full cycle of IVF takes about three weeks. Sometimes these steps are split into different parts and the process can take longer. Any questions?"

"No question, Stephen," Robyn smiles, "we are ready to bring our children to the Light!"

“Good luck to us and to our babies!” Alice whispers, closing her eyes and holding Robyn’ s hand..

“Lucky babies,” Stephen smiles at them reassuringly.

Olympus & Lethean Fields

Olympus

To think of fate is to think of an inevitable, predetermined course someone's life is shaped to take. That leads us to think of the 3 elderly sisters sitting around a spinning wheel: the Fates, also known as the Moirai. The first sister, Clotho, is responsible for spinning out the thread of a person’s life. The second sister, Lachesis, measures out the length of the thread, determining said individual’s life span. The third sister, Atropos, then cuts the thread (with the now-recovered prime scissors, not the spare scissors she used for thousand years after she lost her first in a bet with Blue), thus determining a person’s death. The Moirai, healthier and immortal again, go about their task mechanically and dispassionately, as if menial laborers on a conveyor belt of souls as if elderly grandmothers, quietly spinning out life; a pleasant, quaint threesome who might stop by for tea in the afternoon, and probably bring some home baked goodies as well, or so it might seem on the surface.

"Did you notice the unusually large number of souls heading to the United Realms?" Atropos asks her sisters while sipping tea and enjoying a piece of fruit cake.

"I'd rather noticed their kind: consistently Old souls… Now that I think in perspective, the big picture is clear: their Forerunners went first, ~1-2 decades ago, discounting time nonlinearities. Then, three years ago, their Pioneer, Killian and Emma Swan-Jones's daughter, was born... Last year the four Path-Breakers followed: the Nolan-Jones twins and, right after, other inseparable pair went along: he, going to the far north and she, to the far south. Now a massive group is preparing to go simultaneously and to spread everywhere in the enchanted realms, establishing a unique and fascinating balance," Clotho remarks, "if we consider the hordes of Infant and Baby souls heading to the Land without Magic..."

"You're absolutely right, those Mature souls who went in an interval of nearly 10 to 18 nonlinear years to the Enchanted Lands are already starting to raise: something huge is being forged, my sisters," Lachesis mutters preparing to continue her job, "long life to these special missionaries, there they go…"

Lethean Fields

Hand in hand, the Underworld's queen and king, Persephone and Arthur, stroll through the Lethean Fields lush meadows toward the Return Gate."I knew there was so much more than Underbrooke, even though it is the Underworld's nerve center, but I confess I wasn't prepared for such breadth…" Arthur tells her."And this is just the enchanted lands sector, many of which are now concentrated in the United Realms, in a sub-dimension of what is known as Maine by those living in the Land without Magic. The Land without Magic sectors are much broader and complex, with hundreds of million, billions perhaps, of souls - we'll go there in time, we have Eternity at our disposal, my love," Persephone explains, giving Arthur's hand a squeeze. "What I'm about to show you is a gateway for the souls reincarnating in the United Realms. The Moirai, in an exceptional behavior, asked me to go there and make sure that the almost one hundred Old Souls will get to their marks.""Old Souls?" Arthur asks, curious."Yeah… they're like Avatars. Five of them have already incarnated, it seems that there are 95 going together now." "You'll have to clarify this concept for me, Persephone, be my teacher, love," he asks, kissing her hand. As she stops to tilt her head and dive into his blue eyes, he continues, "I want to learn from the best…""Right," she grins, giving him a peck and conjuring two armchairs. "Let's sit down, then.""Let's drink a fine wine while talking, then," he magically brings the drinks, still amazed with his new powers.After a sigh, Persephone starts. “The soul’s journey is a process of evolving. This means: growing in consciousness, steadily progressing through different levels of consciousness. Only by going into all this in physical bodies experiences and choices a soul can be thrown into an extremely sharp relief in a way that is not possible otherwise. Choice and the ramifications of choice provide the essential lessons of life. In a very real sense, the soul chooses to be on Earth in order to make choices.”“Free-choice,” he states dreamily, thinking on his most recent life-changing choices.“Exactly, my Free-choice-Dreamer, as free of a choice as that one of yours which brought you to my side, as my King. For you the evolution as a mortal is complete, but as an immortal, you have all eternity to evolve. As for the mortal souls, they evolve in stages, five in total, corresponding to a specific level of development in capability and self-awareness within the individual soul. As the soul goes through each stage, covering a large spectrum of colors, or frequencies, the focus changes, more experience is gained, and consciousness expands.”“Colorful souls? How come I haven’t seen these colors?”“That’s because you haven’t trained your eyes yet, you will get there and will perceive the spectrum of their auras beginning at white (all colors) but then going through red, yellow, green, blue, to deep purple and violet. From low frequency to high frequency. The least evolved souls — the “newbies” — have a pinkish hue. The oldest souls — those nearing the end of the whole reincarnation cycle — have a blueish hue. Although the spectrum is a continuum, it can be divided into those five distinct stages or levels of evolvement: Infant, Baby, Young, Mature, and Old Soul.”“Got it… then the one hundred Old Souls you were referring to are vibrating at these highest frequencies.”“Yeah and reincarnating together, like this, is extra-rare. So much that the Molrai asked me to leave the Olympus and make sure that all of them will cross the Return Gate. No complaints on my part, I confess, I was missing you, my King…”“And I, you, my Queen… But back to what you have just told me, I have one question. A mortal at the beginning of the reincarnating cycle, the Infant soul, is a complete novice at the physical existence?” “As a human being, yes. At this first stage they are largely in a state of incompetence and terror, frankly. But through experiences and choices they learn and grow. They steadily progress from being Infant souls to Baby souls to Young souls to Mature souls. Finally, they enter the fifth stage as accomplished Old souls, the experts of human existence. As infant souls they learn about choices having to do with survival; as baby souls choices having to do with moral codes and ethics; as young souls choices having to do with mastery of achievement; as mature souls choices having to do with relationships; and as old souls, choices having to do with the nature of oneness. An infant soul would therefore not understand the choices of an old soul although an older soul would likely have more understanding of the nature of a younger soul choice having had them.”

“95 new Old Souls, then…”“This. Which is very rare. If we went to the Land without Magic return gateway sector you would see another scenario. For you to have an idea, take the incarnated souls there. The six or seven billion people on the planet span the whole range of stages, but the average is said to be somewhere just past the mid-point of stage 3. In other words, this world is currently dominated by Young souls whose primary focus is competitive self-advancement.”“And what is the reason for this massive evolved group reincarnation?” Arthur asks, already standing up and walking towards the Return Portal.“Good question to which the Moirai themselves can’t answer, yet. We'll have to wait and see... What I do know is that the physical world is approaching the climax of an unprecedented crisis. I’ve seen a lot of imbalances in the physical world, Arthur, throughout Time I’ve seen so many wars, conflicts, countless tragedies... but the world’s astral body has never been so contaminated with dark matter as it is now. My guess is that these 100 children are part of the Light, Peace and Love the world is lacking, this means their mission is likely of the noblest kind, extremely challenging and complex. Let’s see them descending, it seems that for a start everything is in order, all of them are lined up and ready to go, look at them, all smiling and shining!”“I see, love, and I can see their auras, how beautiful and bright they are!” he sighs, grinning in awe before the happy souls.

Storybrooke, Sweet-Jones' home

Stepping softly so as not to wake the babies, Killian and Emma head into their intimate living room, adjacent to the couple's suite, like two young lovers hiding from their parents to date in peace. The 4-bedroom home has retained, downstairs, the reminiscent layout of a high-ceiling living room with a mezzanine, where musical instruments and a painting studio are located. On the second floor, more properly, besides their suite-living room combo, the Babies occupy one side of a 2-bedroom-suite combo while the fourth bedroom has been converted into an office where Killian has been working full time organizing Storybrooke Police archives into databases integrated into a wider digital system. That will give a technical support to his brother, the other Killian, now the head of the recently created Intelligence Bureau of the Ministry of Justice. Although he won't be directly involved with the Police Department on a daily basis, his brother knows he can count on him as an investigative ally whenever he needs and asks for.

A remarkable ease for computing earned Killian the position of consultant for all ministries, starting when, after heated debates on Earth and Olympus about ethics codes, he developed a database for the Health Ministry's newly inaugurated Cloning Medical Center (an underground building with chambers to preserve the clones of those who authorized them to be preserved for research on the healing science). The extra-bonus is that he can stay at home helping Emma not only in caring for the twins but also in structuring the Ministry of Art and Culture. Over time, Emma plans to be more engaged at the Music Conservatory but it was a relief to discover a great number of talented musicians in all Realms - some of them are successfully running the School of Music without her direct interference.

It has been a calm morning, so far, in the Nolan/Sweet-Jones home as their sons take a nap, enabling the couple to sit there, side-by-side - a well deserved fruition of each other's company.

"Quite a change in a Princess' life, isn't it?" He teases while absently caressing her golden hair.

"Heart Island taught me well, Honey, and I have magic! Besides, you're always helping by being mega organized, and the babies are the cutest collaborators I could wish for: rarely crying, practically almost smiling, sleeping almost all night…"

"Closed fontanels…" he adds, with relief.

She chuckles at that. "You really were worried about their soft spots at the back of their heads, weren't you?"

"Sure, they were too vulnerable and too soft," he grins and raises an eyebrow. "But there is still a soft spot on top of their heads. It might seem as if their heads have grown faster than their bodies, I remember how I used to panic about that with Alice."

"The same for me, with Henry… but soon I realized that it’s normal, you know, the bodies will soon catch up," and at that Emma rests her head on Killian's shoulders, snuggling into his embrace - a love nest until one of the babies wakes up, waking up the other in the process, and they decide it's time to call their parents. Usually when that happens, they don't need to hurry up because the babies keep quiet in their cribs, and just whimper to get a major attention: for a diaper change or for a breastfeed or both. Killian and Emma work as a team; exchanges are fast and during breastfeeding he helps singing for who is not suckling...

"Listen," he mumbles, "they're awake. They may be sleeping through ~ 5 or 6 hours at a stretch during the night, but their daily naps are becoming shorter…"

"They're giggling… " she smiles, playing with his left hand band, "they feel each other's presence."

"But they also recognize our voice and will turn to look for us when they hear us. Listen, they're laughing out loud! I sure would love to be there with them but this is sort of their moment, you know..."

(Silence)

"Any news from Alice?" She asks in a low voice.

"Apart from when I was told that I am a grandfather to be, nope! She and Robyn will have a full plate with their double pregnancy and all of this is kind of… surreal!"

"I wonder if they will want - or need to move from the loft."

"According to what she told me, they are not planning to move, at least in the beginning because they simply love their vintage home. Besides, my Starfish, a mother to be - can you believe that? said that Snow and David managed to survive for quite a time with a baby there, they intend to adapt the place for their needs. Their point is, with Robyn working as the new librarian and Alice as a kindergarten teacher, the loft is strategically located. I suggested them to incorporate the downstairs floor, it's vacant now, and they loved the idea. My guess is that they will run for it."

"And did she say when they will know how many babies are coming?"

"Perhaps in the next appointment with Stephen, that is, probably soon? She didn't mention anything specific but as far as they know, Robyn's pregnancy is the unknown parameter. Alice is with only one baby, Robyn may be with two, her ultrasound and baby's heartbeat weren't conclusive…"

"Wait and see then," Emma nods, "but I can picture their kids staying a lot with their grandma, in Portland…"

"Aye, love, me too, there will be a lot of space for them there, and here as well, or in our Jolly Roger..."

"They will be loved, so much..." Emma says standing up to go to the nursery.

"Already are, already are…" Killian follows her.

...

At lunch, Henry and Violet appear for a surprise visit, "hey Mom! Hi Killian! Hey little brothers…" and the babies go all smiley at them as if recognising their brother and sister in law by sight and smell as well as by their voice.

"They are reaching out!" Violet exclaims, putting Dylan on her lap. The little boy waves his arms and kicks his legs strongly, laughing out loud and that makes Violet smile too although, to Killian's trained eyes, it is possible to sense something more in the air.

"How old are they?" Henry asks.

"Four and a half months," Emma answers, also suspicious after his nonsensical question and decides to go straight to the point "Henry, my dear Henry, you tell me, what's going on?"

"Eh… since you didn't give us a chance to quibble, Mom, we came to tell you that, perhaps… eh... for sure, I mean, we kind of... Violet and I are kind of... going to have a baby?!"

"We don't understand," Violet cuts him starting to explain nervously, "we have always been so cautious… of course we planned to marry and have kids but we wanted to wait, to study first. Remember, Emma, what you told Henry, about not going too fast? We agreed with you but then… this little bean happened!" She closes her eyes holding her belly and her tears.

"Oh Honey, don't be upset. This may be the best thing to happen in your lives and, if you will, you can manage to carry on with your studies, as you had planned, and take care of the baby. I promise that you won't be alone, alright? You see, I have one question only, for you both, and I suppose it is more of a confirmation since you are already here bringing the news: do you really want the baby?" Emma questions them and they simply nod with bright, hopeful eyes. "Then fight for your baby and for your love. What I told Henry before, what I showed him, nearly a year ago, was the easier path, or what seemed to be easier, simpler path for your growth. But, it seems, the Fates had other plans for you and, as Killian uses to say, we don't want to go against Fate, do we?"

"It seems that congratulations are in order then! Well done, Lad!" Killian tries to soften the mood by hugging Henry. "Good luck when talking to Sir Morgan…" he whispers for just Henry to listen.

"Actually," Henry whispers back, "we have already done that. It took him a while to react but in the end, it went better than expected, he seems to be really okay with the news."

"So do we, son, I'm happy for you both and for the baby - my grandkid... Emma sighs and asks, "what now? Are you moving together?"

"Well... we are practically living together, the doubt is where we are going to live after the baby is born… Sir Morgan offered his house, which is a large house and he lives alone… and I have my 2-bedroom lodge... we don't know yet, Mom, we have time, for now, I guess we will continue in my house figuring out how things will evolve…"

"You see, Dylan and Jason? More babies to play with you! What a Baby boom! Boom! Boom!" Killian winks and grins making faces and mouths at the babies and they react with happy laughs and a contagious happiness.

Storybrooke, Swan-Jones' home

Temper tantrums have never been a Hope's thing, although she knows how to be quite stubborn ("just like her mother," Killian uses to say at which Emma reacts, "strong head, determined, that's my girl!"). However today has been an exception when the 3-year-old girl insisted on being totally independent and is now struggling to deal with frustration.

She tried something on their own, to build a complex 10-year Lego castle without using magic and refused to follow instructions from her father and that triggered a crying crisis that lasted for almost one hour. She is calmer now, thanks to Killian's patience. Emma was doing groceries during the crisis climax but watched enough of it before she went out to understand that they had to be cautious…

"But Papa, Captain Jones, look at me," she says very seriously pretending the roles are reversed and she is the one in charge of the last word, not counting however that her smart father will pick up the real last word out of her next argument. "We are going to visit Zelena and Chad in the Land Without Magic !! Then I have to do things without magic there and I need to be trained!! And you can't help me because I need to do it alone!!"

"I get the part without magic, Little Pirate but, as far as I know, in the Land without Magic every child gets the help from her Papa, especially when she is playing with toys aimed at children 7 years older than her!" Killian counter argues, confident with the inclusion of the age gap, aware that the girl is really good with numbers and will get his point.

Hope listens, she really opens up to listen to her father, eyes locked with his, connected, absorbing his wisdom and his love. She remains quiet for processing his words, pensive, distant. When she comes back, her eyes are brighter.

"Alright," she finally acquiesces, conceding, "you may help me with the doors and windows and… with everything, I guess…" she sighs with a timid grin and adds: "I'm sorry, Daddy…"

…

Two hours later, Emma, who came back from the supermarket when father and daughter were finally starting to have their constructor moment together, enters the living room carrying a jar of lemon juice and three glasses, asking about their work. "How is it going? Let me see? Wow!! It's prettier than in the toy box picture, I'm impressed!! How is that possible? Hope, you can't be using magic, you have said that yourself!"

"I'm not! It was Daddy's idea to borrow some pieces from de Pirate Ship box!!"

"It's a Pirate thing, love…!" Killian grins and raises an eyebrow with an almost innocent look. "Can't help myself and Hope loved the idea, you know, our Pirate Princess needed a castle with a piracy look…"

"It's beautiful! But… isn't it ready yet?"

"Nope!" the girl, happier now and not showing any residual signal of her previous meltdown, smiles with a hint of mischief and silliness, "a garden, the castle still needs a garden as beautiful as the one of Uncle Gideon's castle… but first I need to go to the toilet, bye!!" And she puffs to the bathroom.

Hope was potty-trained and able to dress herself without assistance, among other skills, at 2-years old. She has been challenging Killian and Emma to keep up with her and sometimes it is almost tempting to tell their daughter to "stay still,” but they always allow their child the freedom to practice her physical, emotional and magic skills in the way she needs so that they can develop as they are supposed to - and they know how unique her upbringing has to be...

"At the end of the day, more than a Seer or any other exceptional title that Archie, or Blue, or Gideon may use based on modern psychology or ancient prophecies, such as Pioneer, when referring to her, our girl is just a little child trying her limits with her parents like any child of her age," Emma mumbles sitting near Killian as they stay there, sit on the floor, staring at the castle and sipping their juice.

"Says the Savior, twin of the Aligner, both married to the Survivor twins…" he chuckles and, after a pause, he continues more serious. "Hope became unusually stressed after the latest Baby Boom news this morning, not even with the first Body & Soul vision I saw her so out of her mind, love," Killian notices.

"But she was happy," Emma whispers, "I mean, initially, especially after knowing that Elsa and Cindy were pregnant. It all started to go downhill after Wish Ariel called yesterday morning to let us know about her pregnancy, remember? She stood, raised her hand to her mouth, as if in shock, as if realizing that something big was coming... and from that moment each new pregnancy confirmation made her tantrum to escalate. That was a gradual buildup for a meltdown. Although I was out this morning I knew it was coming… Killian, what did she say to you this morning, while I was doing groceries?"

"She said that something she didn't know yet was really happening. Then she said she was happy because the babies were coming and she didn't know why she was crying but she needed to cry a little. I've never seen our girl that way… shhh, she will be back soon," he whispers and, continuing with a normal volume of voice, he completes, "I wonder where we are going to pick up the Lego pieces to build the castle's garden, maybe from the box of the gas station set…?! Nope! Perhaps from the box of the space rocket set!? No, from where it would be?"

"Daddy," Hope puffs back to the living room and sits on the floor next to her parents, "I will use magic to bring the garden pieces…"

"Great idea, Little Love, once in Rome… I mean, once in the Land without Magic we will deal with not having magic. Here, in the Land with Magic, it is different! With cautious and not exaggerating, we can use magic for building a beautiful garden for our castle, why not? This is what a real Pirate Princess would do!"

"I'm a real Pirate Princess, Captain!" Hope exclaims with a grin, back to her positive self. "I'll show you how this is done!"

"Ah!! That!? I'm sorry but I will have to see to believe, little'love," Killian states defiantly and Emma giggles, admiring how easily the two connect when they are playing.

Reacting to her father's challenge, the girl stands up, tilts the head while looking at the castle, as if calculating the extension of her magic, and raises her hands with a natural elegance to produce the Lego pieces they will use to assemble the garden, "a garden with a magic portal… to the Land without Magic!!" she promises raising her eyebrows in the attempt of a wink.

PUFF!! PUFF!! PUFF!!

Enchanted Countryside, Mills-Lockesley's home

It would look like an ordinary meeting of old friends, gathered to celebrate the kickoff of Operation Body & Soul's first anniversary, if it weren't for the said friends' names: Regina, Robin, S. Regina, W. Robin, W. Regina, Liam Sr, Zelena, Chad, Snow, David, Emma, Killian, Emm and Key…

...

"Who is taking care of Dylan and Jason?" Snow asks Emm as they are sitting at the dinner table set with a banquet worthy of gods.

"Henry and Violet. Alice and Robyn were also planning to go but we left before they arrived…"

"They are already there, love," Key cuts her, "Alice has just texted saying that they are there, planning to cook dinner as soon as they give the babies the bottles with the breast milk you stocked and, after that, put them to sleep. They have just finished their bath, our two sailors... Look at these pictures, 4 adults totally soaked trying to bath two happy 6-month toddlers," he shows them his phone.

"Oh, what a splash!" Emm chuckles. "Here, take a look," she passes the phone to a curious Snow.

"Oh!… Emm, they're so cute… and have grown so much since the last time I saw them!" Snow smiles taking a look at the pictures and showing them to Zelena and Emma.

"Oh…" Emma melts enchanted by the babies's cuteness. "Let me tell you, the way they smile - as if understanding more than they should, remind me of Hope when she was their age, perhaps a bit more boyish but definitely looking like her," Emma notices.

"Who could tell they would look like they were her little brothers..." Zelena jokes, faking a surprise.

"In a way, they are," Chad enters the conversation, "at least to the Genetic Science," he explains. "But if the geneticists knew about the United Realms existence all foundations of their scientific knowledge would be shaken…"

"One more reason to keep the gates closed," Regina adds.

"The more and more there are people not agreeing with this position, Regina," Killian tells her.

"What do you mean, Killian?" Robin asks, passing the salad to David.

"I mean," Killian explains, "we have been gathered in one land with access to all 21st century technology - with virtual access to their world and all intricate chaos they live in, and people have started to discuss - and to question - about our geopolitics principles of anonymity with no interference…"

"Not to mention the young people dreaming of applying to courses not offered here," S. Regina reminds them.

"Opening the borders would integrate us into their chaos, not the other way around," Regina defends the point of continuing isolated, "they would want to explore us and our power to their own interests of domination - it would be the end of the United Realms."

"There is more than this trend, Regina," David enters the conversation. "Now that I've been more in contact with people of the Enchanted Countryside I've detected at least two trends, something like a conservative party, more aligned to your opinion, and a more progressive party, gathering those who believe that people from the United Realms should cross the borders more frequently not only to buy the industrialized goods they produce but to give them, as a form of exchange, a help in fixing their mess."

"But they aren't asking for our help," W. Robin reminds them.

"Perhaps because they don't know we exist!" Emma reasons.

"In the Enchanted Seashore I would say that the Progressive trend is a majority. Perhaps because people there look at the ocean, the open horizon, they have their back to the continent and their sight to what is beyond the horizon," Senior adds more condiment to the conversation.

"From what I've seen," Emm says, "and I haven't seen as much as some of you but enough to understand the big scenario - plus I have my husband as a great professor, right now there seems to have a global tilt there that has yielded a tumultuous far-right takeover. Although I gave up the throne, I have a background on politics since I've been educated to reign and it seems that, technically speaking, this whole picture - far right and far left extremes - is too complex for us to handle."

Hearing Emm's remarks and thinking on her own original upbringing and on how she also gave up the throne to become the Minister of Education, Snow finally speaks. "We could compromise," she offers. "Right now we are a Monarchy System aggregating many monarchies. We could evolve to a Monarchy with Democracy, thus giving voices to all trends, allowing them to be represented. We already have a Prime Minister, Robin, who has helped the Good Queen to coordinate the Ministries. What if we created a Parliament and gave the people a right to vote and elect their representatives?"

"This is interesting," Killian observes, "because what we are witnessing out there is the endangerment of Democracy as it exists in the world, with a few exceptions… In political regimes generally accepted as democratic, what happens is the delegation of decision-making power through voting. But the vote was, in most of the history of political thought, perceived as an instrument alien to the democratic order. Greek democracy was characterized by direct participation in decision making; occupants of public office were generally chosen by lot. We studied that in the Naval Academy but the question we should ask is: how has this concept evolved? Has it worked as the Greeks expected?"

"Definitely not, I'm afraid," Key answers. "What I saw when I lived there is that it has moved away from the notions of direct popular power and political equality. People don't rule, they just decide who will rule. This decision is almost random, since ordinary people, being far removed from public decisions and stuck to their own immediate concerns, are unable to make consequent political choices."

"We could change that paradigm, we could recreate a Democracy that would fix what they did wrong, learn with their errors…" David argues, already buying Snow's idea.

"You know where our worlds differ the most? What having and not having magic is translated into?" Zelena asks them all while sipping her wine. "The thirst for power and domination is the common enemy, but for them Power equals Economic Power, in other words, Money. Their most dominant system, Capitalism, is destroying the planet, destroying Nature, which is aggravated when the Liberals, representing the Financial System, assume the Power: they don't care for equality. They care for concentration of power in the few hands of a financial elite. Money is such an abstract concept sometimes but in the crudest concrete reality it defines who gets to have food and a house to live, who gets access to healthcare. It defines migratory flows, wars, poverty, misery, dignity, slavery, it defines everything surviving related."

"Money is the instrument for evilness, then," says the ex-evil queen W. Regina.

"Basically this," Chad agrees. "But it may also be an instrument for goodness, if only Mankind were less ambitious and selfish…"

"And then, of course, my mother, always revolutionary, coming up with the Democracy concept being applied in the United Realms - why am I not surprised?" Emma tries to bring the focus back to something more practical.

Regina, who had been listening in silence, finally speaks. "Matching the will to democracy with the need for representation may be an open challenge, as representatives will be encouraged to report primarily to key resource holders of their campaign supporters - and the media - rather than to their constituents. We have seen that happening in the LWM. The reduction of democracy to electoral competition represents the encroachment of the ideal of political equality and popular sovereignty that was historically associated with it."

"Asymmetries will always happen, Gina," Robin tells her, "but can be corrected with a solution which is to assert equality through Law and Justice systems. I think Snow has a point, we should be brave to take a risk and give to the people a new channel to their voice. I wouldn't be here if you hadn't run the risk of bringing me back. Mankind is supposed to evolve, generation after generation and… The new generations are coming faster than we think, look at the Baby Boom! We are not eternal, my love, we need to start thinking on their world rather than on our world. They will rule the Future, and we need to think on their paths as their own, assuring them freedom to make their own decisions - the right and wrong ones, and to learn with them, to run their risks, to live their own adventures. It will be up to them to decide if the gates to the Land without Magic will be open, in the future, weighing the consequences, pros and cons. But we owe them a chance of having a world to live and to rule, of having a Future."

"I'll drink to that, to my brother's words," W. Robin raises his glass, "then I propose a toast: To The Future!"

"To The Future!" "To The Future!" "To The Future!" "To The Future!" "To The Future!" "To The Future!" "To The Future!" "To The Future!" "To The Future!" "To The Future!" "To The Future!" "To The Future!" "To The Future!"

Olympus

As a manifestation of the sea god, Nereus was supplanted by Poseidon when Zeus overthrew Cronus. However, known for his truthfulness and virtue, Nereus and his wife Doris accepted defeat and the loss of power without protest, understanding that for a new, more prosperous era to arrive great changes and, perhaps, a few sacrifices, would be necessary. Their noble character and lovable dignity were rewarded and honored with a peaceful rest in a quiet Village at the Olympus, reserved for the retired member of their divine lineage. Sometimes Poseidon visits them - they became good friends, and in many occasions they lost the notion of time-space in endless conversations about the meaning of Life.

Today is such a day, when Poseidon goes there to visit them, but he is not going alone this time…

...

"When was the last time you saw them, Mama?" Liam asks Alice as their petite committee approaches the Retirees' Village.

"Right after I died, they went to Elysium to see me. That was the only time they left their Village but they respected my decision to not coming with them, to not wanting to resurrect. They understood my will and blessed me, anyway. You won't find more generous and wiser beings than my parents, Liam," Alice tells her son.

"That is open to debate, Mother," Liam squeezes her hand and turns to Poseidon who has just stopped. "Are we there?"

"Right here. Let's knock at their door," the god answers holding his daughter's hand and pointing to a Greek-like house.

"There is no need to knock, Poseidon…" Doris leaves the house, opening the door with a smile that brightens when she recognizes her daughter, “Halia!! You have come to see us!” Then, running her eyes over the others, they almost pop up when land on Liam and she turns to her daughter: "The resemblance of your son - can only be your child - with Nereus is striking, Halia... oh forgive me, the name is now Alice. But come in everyone, don't stand outside, come inside and make introductions in there… "

Nereus was fully concentrated reading a book when everyone entered the room. After a moment, feeling the presence and glances, he finally realizes the company.

"By the beards of the Sacred Shrimp!!" He exclaims, standing up and opening a broad smile, "Halia!! My dear Halia, what a joy having you! Come, let me hold you!!"

Trembling with emotion, Alice hugs her father and mother before the others' eyes, all moved by the reunion. After a while, Nereus remembers that they have witnesses and opens his eyes. The first he sees is Liam and, as if looking at his younger self reflection, he stops, backs off, and opens his mouth, eyes traveling from Liam to Alice and back, past everyone else on the way. Turning to his daughter, he mumbles "Is that your son? My grandson?"

Alice nods, "Liam, his name is Liam Jones..."

"Liam…" he repeats and looks at Doris, both with teary eyes. "Come closer, Liam, I'm honored by your visit. Let me hug you, Son…"

Reluctantly, Liam steps forward and extends his hand, which Nereus grips firmly with an electrifying shock. The empathy between the two is immediate, a grandfather-grandson love at first sight.

Glancing at Doris, Liam smiles shyly. "Grandmother?" he babbles and immediately also wins the old lady's heart.

Smiling, Nereus turns to Poseidon, "But what a lack of manners, ours, we didn't even welcome our guests... Poseidon, please introduce us to your friends!"

"We are thrilled to see you and Doris so happy, old friend. Here, let me introduce my companions. To my right, my son, Triton, my daughter, Ursula, and her husband, Nemo. To my left, Liam's wife, Milah and her two sons with equal names: Bealfire - they are twins, we call them wish and nonwish versions, remember when I explained the Wish Realm to you?" He winks and chuckles. "And besides them, a new good friend of us, Wish Belle. They all live in the Islands of the Blessed…"

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," Doris says puffing armchairs for them all to sit. "I'm not used to using my magic but this is an excellent opportunity to practice it, especially if it's to bring a refreshing juice and some cookies like this…"

PUFF!

Smiling with satisfaction, she offers the snacks: "Help yourselves, my dears!"

…

"So, you are telling me that you and Zeus have been humanized?" Nereus asks Poseidon, admired. "That's another surprise…"

"The whole Clone episode was life altering for us, including sharing emotions and thoughts with human souls, our Emissaries - that gave us another perspective. I know that you and Doris drink your Nectar in small doses and because of that you haven't felt the crisis as strongly as we did, but for us it was huge. We came out of that experience in mortality with a new perspective about Life and Death…"

"My father and Zeus wouldn't admit, in other times, the visit of our friends from the Elysium Fields and from Earth, such as is the case of our good friend Nemo," Triton adds.

"But Nemo is a demigod now, brother," Ursula reminds him.

"That is precisely what I am talking about. This generosity. First, Hercules and Megara, whom most call Meg, gained new physical immortal bodies. Then, Arthur, resurrecting and becoming king of the Underworld, the newest Olympian God, and Nemo, my brother in law, as immortal as any of us… a real feast with Ambrosia and Nectar!"

"And yet, Halia still prefers to remain a human soul… is that so, my daughter?" Doris asks Alice.

"Yeah, my beloved mother… Although tempting to stay here with you - I won't deny I will miss you, I'm happy being Alice in the Elysium, close to good friends, close to Liam and his true love, Milah, being able to watch our beloved ones, on Earth, through a wide screen…"

"Excuse me if I'm being nosy," Belle enters the conversation, "but wouldn't it be possible for you to compromise? I mean, Liam has a ship, you could have family meetings there from time to time, and sail in the Ocean together. After all you all have in common a deep love for the Sea! What do you think?"

At Belle's suggestion, Nereus eyes shine as two gems and he opens a broad smile, "what a wonderful suggestion, lovely Lady!" Then, turning to Liam, he asks, "you get to tell me this story of having a ship, my boy!"

"He is a Captain, Father, spent almost all his life on a ship, and you get to know his two brothers on Earth, also captains!" Alice tells him proudly.

"You will have to tell me, of course I will want to hear everything about it and about them!" The old god says, feeling his heart pulsating with renewed strength.

"You will love to hear their epic stories while sailing the Jewel of the Realm, Sir," Bealfire introduces him to Liam's ship name.

"I would love to be there with you, Son, but as a retired god I need to get permission not only from Poseidon, but also from Zeus. I think I should talk to him first…"

"There is no need to ask permission, you are free to go," Poseidon assures him, "but you could come with us to the Pantheon, we are all heading there. I promised to show Belle the Olympian Library and to the two Bealfires I promised to take them to the Arena, to practise Olympian Sports. Come with us, be my special guests, you and Doris, we will be honored by your presence."

"Thank you so much, Poseidon, Triton, all of you," Doris thanks them, "we feel alive, we feel Hope, a promise of dreaming a good dream…"

"More than dreaming, Mother," Alice squeezes her hand as they walk to the Pantheon, "we are making it happen, we are making it Real!"

#Body and Soul #Chapter 13

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latoyarubalcava3546 · 7 years ago

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Guillermo del Toro's Shape Of Water Is The BAFTAs Frontrunner Thanks To 12 Nods! See The Full List Of Nominees HERE!

Awards season is certainly in full swing.

On Tuesday morning, Natalie Dormer and Letitia Wright announced the nominees for the 2018 BAFTA Film Awards. Now that the Golden Globes have come and gone, all eyes are on the British awards show to see who might be a REAL contender at the Oscars.

Related: Oprah Inspires With EPIC #MeToo Speech!

And the answer??? Guillermo del Toro's Shape Of Water is clearly the current frontrunner, as the drama walked away with 12 nominations. Bravo.

Joanna Lumley was also named the host of the industry event, as Stephen Fry recently announced that he'd be stepping down from the role.

Anyhoo, be sure to ch-ch-check out the complete list of nominations for yourself (below)!!

BEST FILM CALL ME BY YOUR NAME Emilie Georges, Luca Guadagnino, Marco Morabito, Peter Spears DARKEST HOUR Tim Bevan, Lisa Bruce, Eric Fellner, Anthony McCarten, Douglas Urbanski DUNKIRK Christopher Nolan, Emma Thomas THE SHAPE OF WATER Guillermo del Toro, J. Miles Dale THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI Graham Broadbent, Pete Czernin, Martin McDonagh

DIRECTOR BLADE RUNNER 2049 Denis Villeneuve CALL ME BY YOUR NAME Luca Guadagnino DUNKIRK Christopher Nolan THE SHAPE OF WATER Guillermo del Toro THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI Martin McDonagh

LEADING ACTRESS ANNETTE BENING Film Stars Don't Die in Liverpool FRANCES McDORMAND Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri MARGOT ROBBIE I, Tonya SALLY HAWKINS The Shape of Water SAOIRSE RONAN Lady Bird

LEADING ACTOR DANIEL DAY-LEWIS Phantom Thread DANIEL KALUUYA Get Out GARY OLDMAN Darkest Hour JAMIE BELL Film Stars Don't Die in Liverpool TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET Call Me by Your Name

SUPPORTING ACTRESS ALLISON JANNEY I, Tonya KRISTIN SCOTT THOMAS Darkest Hour LAURIE METCALF Lady Bird LESLEY MANVILLE Phantom Thread OCTAVIA SPENCER The Shape of Water

SUPPORTING ACTOR CHRISTOPHER PLUMMER All the Money in the World HUGH GRANT Paddington 2 SAM ROCKWELL Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri WILLEM DAFOE The Florida Project WOODY HARRELSON Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

OUTSTANDING BRITISH FILM DARKEST HOUR Joe Wright, Tim Bevan, Lisa Bruce, Eric Fellner, Anthony McCarten, Douglas Urbanski THE DEATH OF STALIN Armando Iannucci, Kevin Loader, Laurent Zeitoun, Yann Zenou, Ian Martin, David Schneider GOD'S OWN COUNTRY Francis Lee, Manon Ardisson, Jack Tarling LADY MACBETH William Oldroyd, Fodhla Cronin O'Reilly, Alice Birch PADDINGTON 2 Paul King, David Heyman, Simon Farnaby THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI Martin McDonagh, Graham Broadbent, Pete Czernin

OUTSTANDING DEBUT BY A BRITISH WRITER, DIRECTOR OR PRODUCER THE GHOUL Gareth Tunley (Writer/Director/Producer), Jack Healy Guttman & Tom Meeten (Producers) I AM NOT A WITCH Rungano Nyoni (Writer/Director), Emily Morgan (Producer) JAWBONE Johnny Harris (Writer/Producer), Thomas Napper (Director) KINGDOM OF US Lucy Cohen (Director) LADY MACBETH Alice Birch (Writer), William Oldroyd (Director), Fodhla Cronin O'Reilly (Producer)

FILM NOT IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE ELLE Paul Verhoeven, Saïd Ben Saïd FIRST THEY KILLED MY FATHER Angelina Jolie, Rithy Panh THE HANDMAIDEN Park Chan-wook, Syd Lim LOVELESS Andrey Zvyagintsev, Alexander Rodnyansky THE SALESMAN Asghar Farhadi, Alexandre Mallet-Guy

DOCUMENTARY CITY OF GHOSTS Matthew Heineman I AM NOT YOUR NEGRO Raoul Peck ICARUS Bryan Fogel, Dan Cogan AN INCONVENIENT SEQUEL Bonni Cohen, Jon Shenk JANE Brett Morgen

ANIMATED FILM COCO Lee Unkrich, Darla K. Anderson LOVING VINCENT Dorota Kobiela, Hugh Welchman, Ivan Mactaggart MY LIFE AS A COURGETTE Claude Barras, Max Karli

ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY GET OUT Jordan Peele I, TONYA Steven Rogers LADY BIRD Greta Gerwig THE SHAPE OF WATER Guillermo del Toro, Vanessa Taylor THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI Martin McDonagh

ADAPTED SCREENPLAY CALL ME BY YOUR NAME James Ivory THE DEATH OF STALIN Armando Iannucci, Ian Martin, David Schneider FILM STARS DON'T DIE IN LIVERPOOL Matt Greenhalgh MOLLY'S GAME Aaron Sorkin PADDINGTON 2 Simon Farnaby, Paul King

ORIGINAL MUSIC BLADE RUNNER 2049 Benjamin Wallfisch, Hans Zimmer DARKEST HOUR Dario Marianelli DUNKIRK Hans Zimmer PHANTOM THREAD Jonny Greenwood THE SHAPE OF WATER Alexandre Desplat

CINEMATOGRAPHY BLADE RUNNER 2049 Roger Deakins DARKEST HOUR Bruno Delbonnel DUNKIRK Hoyte van Hoytema THE SHAPE OF WATER Dan Laustsen THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI Ben Davis

EDITING BABY DRIVER Jonathan Amos, Paul Machliss BLADE RUNNER 2049 Joe Walker DUNKIRK Lee Smith THE SHAPE OF WATER Sidney Wolinsky THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI Jon Gregory

PRODUCTION DESIGN BEAUTY AND THE BEAST Sarah Greenwood, Katie Spencer BLADE RUNNER 2049 Dennis Gassner, Alessandra Querzola DARKEST HOUR Sarah Greenwood, Katie Spencer DUNKIRK Nathan Crowley, Gary Fettis THE SHAPE OF WATER Paul Austerberry, Jeff Melvin, Shane Vieau

COSTUME DESIGN BEAUTY AND THE BEAST Jacqueline Durran DARKEST HOUR Jacqueline Durran I, TONYA Jennifer Johnson PHANTOM THREAD Mark Bridges THE SHAPE OF WATER Luis Sequeira

MAKE UP & HAIR BLADE RUNNER 2049 Donald Mowat, Kerry Warn DARKEST HOUR David Malinowski, Ivana Primorac, Lucy Sibbick, Kazuhiro Tsuji I, TONYA Deborah La Mia Denaver, Adruitha Lee VICTORIA & ABDUL Daniel Phillips WONDER Naomi Bakstad, Robert A. Pandini, Arjen Tuiten

SOUND BABY DRIVER Tim Cavagin, Mary H. Ellis, Julian Slater BLADE RUNNER 2049 Ron Bartlett, Doug Hemphill, Mark Mangini, Mac Ruth DUNKIRK Richard King, Gregg Landaker, Gary A. Rizzo, Mark Weingarten THE SHAPE OF WATER Christian Cooke, Glen Gauthier, Nathan Robitaille, Brad Zoern STAR WARS: THE LAST JEDI Ren Klyce, David Parker, Michael Semanick, Stuart Wilson, Matthew Wood

SPECIAL VISUAL EFFECTS BLADE RUNNER 2049 Gerd Nefzer, John Nelson DUNKIRK Scott Fisher, Andrew Jackson THE SHAPE OF WATER Dennis Berardi, Trey Harrell, Kevin Scott STAR WARS: THE LAST JEDI Nominees tbc WAR FOR THE PLANET OF THE APES Nominees tbc

BRITISH SHORT ANIMATION HAVE HEART Will Anderson MAMOON Ben Steer POLES APART Paloma Baeza, Ser En Low

BRITISH SHORT FILM AAMIR Vika Evdokimenko, Emma Stone, Oliver Shuster COWBOY DAVE Colin O'Toole, Jonas Mortensen A DROWNING MAN Mahdi Fleifel, Signe Byrge Sørensen, Patrick Campbell WORK Aneil Karia, Scott O'Donnell WREN BOYS Harry Lighton, Sorcha Bacon, John Fitzpatrick

EE RISING STAR AWARD (voted for by the public) DANIEL KALUUYA FLORENCE PUGH JOSH O'CONNOR TESSA THOMPSON TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET

Congrats to all the nominees!!

[Image via Fox Searchlight.]

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kazoo5480 · 3 years ago

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Additional Tags: Inspired by Once Upon a Time (TV), Alternate Universe - Once Upon a Time Fusion, Alternate Universe - High School, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, First Kiss

Summary: Emma Nolan and Killian Jones had been best friends since they were kids. What happens when they begin to grow up, their friendship falling apart, but Killian is still in love with Emma?

"Are we having a party Mom?" Killian asks his mother, as he piled his plate with food, and sat at the old wooden table in their kitchen with his stepdad. Nemo smiled at him and flipped the page in his newspaper, his glasses perched low on his nose.

"No my love, it’s Emma's 10th birthday. So we are bringing some food to her party in a little bit" Alice replied to her son, and continued tossing the salad she made. "Now get changed and clean your room up before we head over," she said and Killian ran to his room.

Liam was laying on his bed along the adjoining wall, his posters of his sports heroes watching down from the walls, reading a comic and Killian changed his clothes. Liam didn’t seem to be paying him attention when he spoke.

"So, what did you get your girlfriend Emma?" Liam asked Killian.

Killian shook his head, scratching behind his ear nervously. "Nothing. Was I supposed to? Doesn't mom usually do that? She isn’t my girlfriend" He asked, now feeling anxious that he was supposed to do something, and didn't.

Liam rolled his eyes, “make her a card real quick, and give her something from you" he said.

Killian searched high and low, and then he got an idea. He drew her card and went to the bookshelf grabbing his favorite book of fairytales. Emma always loved sitting under their tree reading them aloud when the weather was warmer. He bolted down their steps towards the kitchen and asked his mom to help him wrap it.

"Here Killy, write her a note inside the cover," and handed him a pen. He sat and thought of what he wanted to say to his best friend.

"Happy Birthday Emma. I love you"

Killian Jones

Alice smiled and wrapped it up for him in the pink sparkly paper, and she handed it to him. His blue eyes earnest and wide, she handed him the barbie also for Emma and called Liam down. She looked at her husband, and he smiled, shaking his head.

“That boy is in love and doesn’t even know what it is” Nemo chuckled, and kissed Alice’s cheek. Alice smiled at her husband.

“Lucky for him, he has a great dad to help him figure it out,” she said, kissing his cheek, and headed up the steps to get dressed.

They walked across the tree-lined street, following the pink balloons into Emma’s backyard. Killian spotted Ruby and Emma near her clubhouse and carried her presents to the table before running over to join them.

Emma grinned wide, throwing her arms around his neck, and he hugged her back. "Happy Birthday Swan," he said, and Ruby laughed, dragging him inside the tiny clubhouse. They hid out in there forcing Killian to again partake in playing barbies with Emma’s new Barbie dream house that she had begged her parents for.

“Killy, Ken has to kiss Barbie” Emma pouted, and Killian rolled his eyes.

“Why do we have to play this, can't we go out to the party and play with everyone else? I thought a lot of people were coming” he said to Emma and Ruby laughed.

Emma shrugged, “okay, you don't have to play,” she said sounding a little sad. Killian clutched her hand, and dragged her out after Ruby, squeezing it tightly.

He gave her a look that said I will play with you later, but not in front of other people. Because Killian would play barbies all day with Emma if that's what she wanted to do, just like she would play Ninja Turtles anytime he asked, and she never complained. She loved being April O’Neil.

Elsa and Anna and their parents lived behind Emma’s family, and they came in through the adjoining gate. Their new neighbors the Fa’s brought along their daughter Mulan. Ariel and her dad came, a few of her older sisters too, and Liam’s best friend Graham and his mom showed up.

Alice and Mary Margaret sat drinking sangria on the patio while Dave and Nemo grilled. Granny came out with a beer and sat at the table, enjoying the break from her restaurant, and she smiled watching Ruby playing. Mary Margaret waved at her sister Regina as she came out the back door, a glass of wine in hand, and she smiled at Robin who had joined Dave and Nemo at the grill.

Mary Margaret looked around and noticed Henry and Roland playing, but she didn’t see Emma or Killian. She was about to get up when Ruby came out the door of the clubhouse, and Emma and Killian came out behind her. She smiled and went back to her conversation.

"Killian had me wrap Emma's special gift specifically from him," Alice said quietly, and laughed telling her best friend. Mary Margaret beamed, "I can only imagine," she said and Alice nodded.

"$20 bucks they get married," Granny said and the women laughed nodding. Regina laughed with them nodding in agreement.

“If we should only be so lucky” Alice sighed. “And Liam, I think he has his sights set on Elsa, but won’t tell Nemo, says she is too young, but it is all over his face” she laughed.

"Dinner" Dave called out, and everyone lined up, Killian and Emma whispering conspiratorially.

"Tonight, outside your house?" He asked quietly, and Emma nodded.

"Come on Jones, are you afraid?" Emma teased him.

"Never," he said blushing to the tips of his pointed ears, he wondered what she had in store for him though, feeling a little nervous.

Emma giggled, and took the plate from her dad, going to join Ruby, Elsa, Anna, and Henry sitting on the lawn.

Killian made his way over, followed by Roland, Liam, and Graham. They all sat in a circle, Graham and Liam talking to Elsa, and Ruby was telling them about the track team Granny had made her join this summer.

Killian took a moment and whispered to Emma. “Why do you want me to come over tonight?” he asked.

“I want to show you something, but I can't right now Jones,” she said, rolling her eyes. Killian wondered what in the world she would possibly have to show him at night, making him sneak out.

Emma’s Aunt Regina brought out a beautiful Barbie cake, and everyone sang. Her little brother Henry helped her blow out the candles, and she ruffled his hair when he hugged her. Mary Margaret photographed everything, and everyone that day.

Emma sat opening her presents, and when she got to the mermaid Barbie from the Jones’s she ran to hug them all. “You have one more sweetie” Alice whispered in her ear and pushed the small square present in her hands. She looked at Killian, who was avoiding her eyes, and she smiled.

She tore the paper off and gasped, and he caught her gaze, his cheeks blushed scarlet and she ran towards him knocking him back on the grass in a bear hug.

“Thank you, Killy,” she said, and he nodded trying to act completely normal. Emma opened the card he drew, a comic strip of them, her like a princess, and him as a pirate, on a birthday adventure. She laughed, “this is amazing!” she said, and Alice smirked at Mary Margaret as they watched her son nearly burst into flames of embarrassment.

Killian was hoping she wouldn’t open the book right there in front of everyone, and mercifully she didn’t. She hugged and thanked everyone for her presents, and when the sky turned dark, people began heading back to their homes, and he stopped and looked back at Emma.

She held her hands up, “ten” she nodded.

Alice and Nemo led the boys home, Nemo demanding they both shower. Killian did so quickly, eyeing the clock. He had an hour, he could make it an hour. Liam was in their basement with Graham who was sleeping over, so he went down and watched them play the Nintendo for a while, and snuck upstairs, looking around.

His mom and dad’s door was shut, and he crept out the back door. He walked in the shadow of his driveway, crossing over to Emma’s house. Her house was dark but he could hear people in her backyard, as he smelled a bonfire.

“Psst” came a whisper and Emma was standing by the big Oak tree in her yard, the shadow covering her, but she was in her pink nightgown and bare feet.

“What do you want to show me?” He asked her in a whisper as Emma grabbed him by the hand and tugged him toward the tree under a cloak of darkness, the streetlamp the only illumination over them. He could see her long curls blowing lightly in the breeze, her green eyes sparkling mischievously.

Emma smiled at him, “I opened the book. I love you too Killy” she answered, and placed her hands on his shoulders. Emma leaned in, her soft lips pressed upon his.

Killian’s mind was going a hundred miles an hour, and before he could respond Emma was pulling away already.

“You wanted to show me a kiss?” he asked, stunned, and Emma nodded.

“That was my wish, I wanted to kiss you Killy” and he grinned at her, his stomach somersaulting.

He leaned in and kissed her one more time, a soft quick kiss, and she giggled quickly covering her lips with her fingers.

"You taste like bubblegum," he said grinning at her, shaking his head.

“Goodnight Jones” she whispered and ran back into her house, her pink nightgown floating behind her.

Killian felt the oddest sensation running through him, she was his best friend, his very best friend, and he couldn’t imagine kissing another girl for the rest of his life.

He was careful as he crawled into his bed, undetected, and laid there looking at the comics on his wall. He kind of felt like a superhero. He had gotten his first kiss. Would they kiss all the time like his parents? Or hers? Because that was a lot of kissing. He wondered if she would tell anyone, he hoped not, he wanted this to be their secret.

His last thoughts before going to sleep were blonde curls and soft lips that tasted like bubblegum.

Over the next few days, Killian didn’t see Emma much, they were all getting ready for the end of summer, and back to school shopping. His mom and Nemo dragged Liam and him to every clothing store in town, school supplies, and by the time he got home, he realized it had been three days since he saw Emma.

He walked over and knocked on their Red front door, and Mrs. Nolan opened the door smiling. “Hey Killian, she is upstairs with Ruby” and he nodded heading upstairs.

He knocked on the closed door, hearing giggling inside, and Emma saying come in.

“Hey guys,” he said and sat on the rug beside Emma.

Emma looked over at him and smiled, “Hey, we were just about to play again, you want to play?” she asked, and he nodded while Ruby dealt the cards out to him, and Henry walked by joining in too.

“Any three’s?” Ruby asked.

“Go fish,” Killian replied.

“Boom!” Henry exclaimed, and laid out his last pair, beating them all. They booed him playfully and he ran off hearing Roland downstairs.

Ruby looked at her watch, “I gotta go, Granny will be waiting for me. See you guys at school” she said and headed out.

“Did you tell her?” he asked Emma and she shook her head.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because you don’t tell people your birthday wishes, even if they come true Jones,” she said.

“Do we have to kiss all the time now?” he asked, and Emma shrugged, smirking at him.

Emma blushed a little, not expecting him to ask her questions. “Probably not. I just knew I wanted to give you a kiss like Wendy gives Peter Pan, but my Mom told me that’s not a real kiss, and I didn’t want to kiss anyone else. So I wished it would be my best friend” she said.

“Killian, your mom is calling you for dinner” Mrs. Nolan called from downstairs.

“I’m coming!” He called out and leaned forward brushing his lips against Emmas quickly, and paused for a moment, watching the smile that graced her face.

"One more," he said and leaned in again, catching her soft lips against his own, and took off running down the stairs.

“Bye!” he waved at Emma’s mom, running home.

Mary Margaret shook her head watching him run across the street, and waved at Alice nodding at her from her own doorway across the street.

“Oh boy,” she said to herself, laughing.

@holdingoutforapiratehero @sailtoafarawayland @omgmarvelous

#once upon a time #ouat au #first love #emma nolan #killian jones #ruby lucas #liam jones

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ineffablecolors · 5 years ago

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The Wife [18/?]

The Wife || Ch 18 ~ 5.1k || Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8 Ch9 Ch10Ch11 C12 Ch13 Ch14Ch15 Ch16 Ch17 || FF.NET&AO3

A/N: Bit of everyone in this one :)) Also - should this be E-rated now? Have I turned my slow burn period piece into feelsy porn?!

For all intents and purposes, Ruby grew up in the Jones household. She baked her first pie in this kitchen, she learnt to read along with lady Alice even though she was quite a bit older, she took the first book she ever read from cover to cover from Captain Jones’s library and apologized through tears when he found her reading it only to be told it was hers now, she became a woman in this house on a hot summer morning, she had her first kiss under one of the apple trees, she snuck out the first girl she ever made love to in the middle of the night only for her to get lost and wake up the whole household upon her return.

Granny made her do all the washing for a month for that last one but Captain Jones just send Peter to help Dorothy find her way back to town and never said anything about it.

After her grandmother, there’s nothing and no one in this world Ruby loves more than Alice and Killian Jones.

Thus, she finds it hard to describe the feeling that passes through her when the captain brings his small staff together and tells them that they will need to make some small changes around the house – it is as if her stomach swoops down and rolls in on itself and Ruby feels herself wobble a little on her feet. Granny is impossibly still beside her. It is the first time she has seen the grin that she thought permanent drop from Peter’s face.

And it doesn’t matter that she is still young enough to marry and it doesn’t matter that she can certainly find work elsewhere. This isn’t work, this is her home. And in that moment, Ruby realizes that between her grandmother taking care of her after her mother ran away and Killian taking her in as soon as she could run around after Granny, she has never before been truly afraid.

“I hope you know that…” Captain Jones clears his throat and she feels every word like a nail being hammered into her heart. “I consider this your home as much as mine. So I have done everything necessary to ensure its safety.”

The air that leaves her lungs is so audible and so close to a stifled sob that Granny glares at her from the corner of her eyes but Ruby doesn’t care.

“That being said…”

Killian glances at his wife and Ruby almost feels guilty for having completely forgotten about Emma. Despite everything, despite how much she likes the new mistress, in that moment, Ruby realizes that she still doesn’t see her as an integral and irreplaceable part of the family, as someone who will stay no matter what.

It takes seconds – Killian’s look and Emma’s assuring nod and the way his shoulders straighten and the way she steps closer – for Ruby to realize that Captain Jones most certainly feels very differently.

She is glad for it.

“There is a number of things to be done and I will be coming and going frequently in the following weeks. Meanwhile, Emma is going to take care of the household expenses and I hope you will all assist her where you can.”

He gives Granny a look but the old woman just huffs and dusts off her hands as if she is done with the whole thing.

“Long as nobody messes with my cooking.”

*****

Emma does mess with her cooking. There is scarcely a thing that she doesn’t mess with and Mrs Lucas has always considered herself a prudent and productive woman but that was before she encountered the single-mindedness of Mrs Jones.

She would grumble about it more, if she wasn’t so damn impressed with the girl.

Granny never would’ve thought a woman could be so excited about cutting expenses and yet, here they are. She supposes it has more to do with actually getting to do something, to be helpful and in control. She doesn’t think Emma Jones has been made to feel like that often in her life. The fact that she obviously cares very little for the quality of table cloths, the oils for her hair or the salts for her baths probably makes the whole thing much easier as well and yet, Granny can’t help but appreciate Emma’s tenacity and dedication – the fact that, against all logic and circumstance, she seems happier than ever and Killian – more relaxed than Granny can remember him.

She appreciates how he lingers at the table at breakfast and doesn’t linger in his office late into the night, how Emma’s appetite has grown exponentially since she first dined at their table and her cheeks are a little more rounded and not quite so pale anymore.

Still, Granny acts sufficiently put upon when Emma does away with small costs that Killian would’ve probably never bothered with and sighs in genuine relief when the captain concludes his own affairs for the day and manages to redirect his wife’s attention with a speed that gives the cook whiplash.

It’s none of Mrs Lucas’s business what the masters do behind closed doors but it is her business to prepare their chambers and Emma’s hasn’t been used in weeks.

And still, despite all that, despite her growing admiration for the girl and her pleasure in seeing her happy and believing that she has a voice and a right to things, there is still a murmur at the back of Granny’s head. A little niggling whisper of worry that is both amazed and terrified by how much the captain obviously trusts his wife, how much power he has given her – over his home and over himself.

She sees it in the way he looks at Emma before deciding on his schedule for the day, the way he asks for her opinion when arranging for the dealers that come to look at pieces in the house, the way he lets her into his study – going through numerous pots of tea while he explains how shares and companies work, the way he tries to go to bed at a reasonable hour because she always stays up with him.

She sees the way he considers how everything he does and says might affect her, the way he seeks her approval, if not her permission. It is much more than the piqued interest of months ago, much more even than the obvious care and attraction of weeks before.

And – much as she has grown to trust and believe in Emma Jones – it worries her.

Mrs Lucas has been a widow a long while but not long enough to forget the bittersweetness of being married to a kind and loving man who still managed to almost bring them to ruin. She can remember loving and trusting before she learnt that the latter is not always so easy to earn as the former. You can love someone despite all their faults, you can even love their vices, but kissing someone under the dead of night and walking hand in hand with them through life is not quite the same.

So she worries.

She worries until the night she opens a door, a silver tray under her elbow, coming to collect the cups Emma took earlier, and sees them before the fire. Emma is leaning against the plush settee behind her, awake and alert, her eyes flying over the piece of paper in her hand that she is obviously trying to decipher, but it’s Killian that the old woman can’t take her eyes off of. A Killian Jones that she has never known. He is on his back, his head in his wife’s lap, her fingers in his hair, a paper still in his right hand even though it’s lying limply beside him, and his left arm resting across his chest, rising and falling with his every breath. Almost ten years and she has never seen him without the wooden hand at the end of his left arm, not since it was fashioned by his physician and brought to the house while he was still bed-ridden.

Granny shifts her weight, the glasses on her tray tinkle, and she sees Emma’s hand move on instinct, leaving his hair to settle protectively over his chest, as her eyes fly to the door.

“Oh,” she sighs and her shoulders relax again. “Is it quite late?”

It takes Granny a few seconds to swallow the lump in her throat.

“I’m about to turn in for the night, if you don’t need anything.”

“Yes, of course.”

She should still collect the cups on the floor beside them but it seems inconceivable to her to move further into the room, to break into the space that is almost simmering with their intimacy.

So instead she nods and turns on her heel. She probably shouldn’t look back, she has never felt more like an intruder in her life, but she is glad she does all the same – she is glad for the way Emma leans over, brushing his hair back and kissing his forehead, the way her whisper carries.

“The floor is not an appropriate place for sleeping, my heart.”

*****

Admiral and Mrs Jones return from their trip and Elsa asks Emma over for tea. She even invites Mrs Nolan – Mrs Nolan who she would truly love to meet before she is too far along in her pregnancy to leave her home. It is a good scheme but not quite so good that Emma doesn’t see right through it. Elsa is to draw her out of the house so Liam can ambush Killian and convince him to take his money.

Killian laughs long and hard when she uses the inkwells and paperweights on his desk to explain this battle strategy to him. He does not disagree but he is also absolutely adamant that she should go, see her friends and take some time for herself. Overall he acts like she has been toiling in the fields for the last few weeks. She rolls her eyes heavenward but the pressure from all sides is too much.

That’s how she finds herself watching with undisguised amusement as Elsa gushes over Mary Margaret’s rather pregnant state and Mary Margaret praises Elsa’s home and china enthusiastically and profusely. Knowing Elsa Jones, it probably shouldn’t but it still shocks Emma when she shoots straight for the heart of the matter as soon as the tea has been poured.

“Liam won’t have any success, would he?”

Emma just shakes her head.

“Success with what?” Mary looks between them in confusion as she takes a dainty sip from her cup.

“Oh, Killian has gotten himself into a bit of a bind and he won’t let Liam get him out of it.”

Emma purses her lips and tries to tempter down her annoyance at the regal and yet somewhat blasé way Elsa points things out and distributes information as if she is a flower girl in the last hour of daylight, rushing to rid herself of her merchandise.

“Oh, Emma. I’m so sorry,” Mary Margaret sets her cup down and her hands flutter in the air for a moment before one of them settles on Emma’s knee.

This time she can’t help but roll her eyes toward the ceiling.

“It’s quite alright. We have most of everything settled and no, I do not think Admiral Jones will be successful in his endeavour but,” she spreads her hands, indication her very presence. “As you can see, he was given a fair chance.”

Elsa’s lips twitch in amusement at Emma’s bluntness before she shakes her head.

“It must be a first for Liam to read someone better than me,” she says, obviously not quite believing it herself and smiles at Emma’s questioning frown. “Oh, I told him he would do well to have you around – no one wants a man’s difficulties resolved faster than his own wife. But Liam claimed that he will have trouble enough with Killian and didn’t need you backing him up, which you undoubtedly would, no matter his decision.”

Emma feels her cheeks heat up but for the life of her she cannot tell if she is embarrassed or pleased by Admiral Jones’s assessment. The moment passes as she runs Elsa’s words through her mind again.

“You mean to say, you would urge Liam to do otherwise?”

“I mean to say that I have,” Elsa responds calmly. “Age and other pleasures have mostly tempered his desires for it but Liam used to speculate wildly. And not always successfully. Killian and Captain Nemo have gotten him out of more than one mess.”

She blinks in surprise, Admiral Jones has always seemed like such a stable and practical man to her. Then again, there is also a certain overconfidence about him that she can easily see leading to such pitfalls.

Still, Emma restrains herself from saying that, while she respects his desire to return the favour now, Killian’s troubles have a much different source and she is not in the least angry or ashamed that he should want to fix everything himself. They’ve decided that the less it is known about the whole situation, the better, and while Emma trusts Elsa’s love and commitment to the Jones name – even when they don’t see eye to eye on all things marital – she cannot say that she has full confidence in Mrs Nolan’s ability to keep much to herself. Speaking of—

“Mary, how is Mr Nolan?”

Mary Margaret is only too happy to talk about David’s excitement over their growing family and almost as happy to question Elsa on all things Italian – from food and architecture to how suitable she thinks the climate for young children. Emma thinks herself well and truly safe from being the center of attention when she starts noticing the sly glances Mary Margaret is throwing her way and the calculating look in her eyes as she looks between her and Elsa.

“Emma, dear, you haven’t written me in so long, I’m eager to hear about any new… developments in your married life. Other than that unfortunate business in recent days.”

Emma frowns hard in confusion before the direction of her friend’s inquiry suddenly becomes clear to her and her eyes grow painfully wide.

“Mary Margaret!”

She stares at the other woman in disbelief for a few seconds, consciously resisting the urge to put her hand over the lovebite on her shoulder that she knows is well-hidden by her sleeve. Then she glances at Elsa. The sparkle in the older Mrs Jones’s eye is one Emma has only seen when she looks at Liam and thinks nobody is looking at her.

“Oh, splendid! I wasn’t quite certain how open Emma might be to such a discussion—“

“I’m not—“

Mary Margaret’s eager nod cuts her right off.

“It’s just— you hear such stories from some women, I want to make sure—“

“But, of course! My friend Mrs Seaborne has just the lousiest luck in the bedroom.”

Emma looks between the two of them in bewilderment and just shakes her head mutely.

“You’re new to married life, Emma,” Elsa says in that same tone that makes her opinions sound like law. “I should have invited my sister. After she has done talking no one worries about divulging too much.”

“You mean to tell me you discuss what goes on… in your bedchambers over tea?”

Elsa and Mary Margaret share a look and, in that moment, she can swear they seem to have known each other for years. They look back at her and nod at the same time.

Emma slums back in her seat and blinks. Admittedly, she has never been invited to any tea parties but, despite her jesting with Killian, she never thought they included discussions of one’s marital happiness. Let alone, that particular kind of happiness.

“Why, I— I’m not sure I feel comfortable with this,” she admits honestly.

Mary Margaret waves her off.

“You needn’t share everything, Emma. I… well, I’ve never done this myself but I know many ladies who— that is, I want to know you are being treated well and—“

Elsa is nodding along and Emma shoots her an almost accusatory look.

“You doubt Killian treats me well?”

“Oh, I’m sure he is the perfect gentleman but I have no notion of anything beyond his table manners and reluctant ball dancing.”

“There is nothing wrong with wishing to be well-satisfied,” Mary adds with a properness that doesn’t match her words in the least.

Emma flounders for a minute, trying to make her decision. She is slightly mortified to find herself too proud of her newfound joy to refuse to acknowledge it.

“Well, then… if you must know, I’m quite— I’m very pleased with everything.”

Mary Margaret’s smile gradually dissolves into confusion.

“Whatever do you mean by “everything”?”

“You know there are a couple of different ways,” Elsa says with the authority of one who has had such discussions before and engaged in those “different ways”.

“Well, yes, there are different ways and different things,” Emma supplies before she can think better of it.

And now both women are looking at her with wide eyes.

“Oh, you know, it’s not all—” she helplessly waves her hand before her and feels her face burning.

“I think she means touching,” Elsa almost whispers to Mary Margaret without either taking their eyes off Emma – their look is very much the one you give a foreign object from a different continent. “Do you mean touching, dear?”

“Well, yes, but also…” Emma sputters and looks all around and finally drops her face in her hands and groans.

It is in that moment that one of Elsa’s maids knocks on the door and brings in some more refreshments and every part of Emma thinks she is going to use that as an excuse to get away from this conversation. So she has no clue where on earth the part that speaks when the door closes again comes from.

“You know you can be kissed… everywhere.”

“Of course, but— oh!”

For the first time Elsa’s face contorts obviously without her permission and the shock freezes her eyebrow high on her forehead. Emma blinks.

“Have you never—“

“Once or twice but—“

She is about to ask what Elsa means by that – once or twice every month or every week? She doubts it can mean every day – true, Admiral Jones seems much more at his leisure than Killian but still. It is the slightly glossy look that takes over Elsa’s eyes that brings the sudden realization of her meaning to Emma.

“Whatever do you—” Mary Margaret’s quiet voice draws Emma’s attention to her friend and she watches the process of understanding play out across her features. “Oh. I didn’t— I mean, we… Is it— Is it nice?”

Emma bites hard at her lip and nods vigorously.

*****

“But Alice is alright?”

“Aye, they are both perfectly fine. They haven’t seen any trouble or unwanted attention since.”

Liam sighs and shakes his head.

“She never did do things the conventional way.”

“Liam,” Killian narrows his eyes and the hint of a warning in his tone makes his brother raise his hands in supplication.

“Never said she should, just…” he shrugs and rubs his temples for a few seconds before deciding that another sip of rum would do him better. “But Emma has been fine with it all?”

His little brother’s face softens immediately and Liam makes a note of this magical way to mellow Killian down.

“She’s been wonderful.”

He feels something warm and serene spread over his shoulders at Killian’s smile. Then Liam puffs out his chest and spreads his arms wide.

“I’m ready to accept your thanks at any point.”

Killian sighs in what Liam hopes is faux annoyance as he takes his own glass in hand and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I thought we’d settled on—“

Liam waves him off.

“Not that.”

“Then what laurels do you wish to lay claim to, brother?”

“Why, introducing you to your wonderful wife, of course.”

Killian’s eyebrows go high in amusement as he leans back in his chair and takes a sip of his drink.

“In truth, you didn’t exactly introduce us.”

“I as good as brought her to your door,” he fires back half in jest and grins at Killian’s laughter.

“You spent every day between my proposal to her grandmother and our nuptials trying to convince me what a rotten idea the whole thing was!”

“Which I know is the surest way to make you do something, little brother” Liam finishes matter-of-factly, more than a little pleased with himself when Killian proceeds to open and shut his mouth in quick succession.

For a second Killian just watches him with narrowed eyes but Liam refuses to let the smug grin leave his face until his brother chuckles and shakes his head in defeat.

“Thank you for introducing me to my wonderful wife, Liam.”

Liam grins – knowing he can’t take any real credit for most of it does little to diminish his satisfaction with his brother’s happiness.

*****

It’s a cold but clear day and there are still a couple more serviceable hours of daylight when he hears Emma come home. Killian leans back in his leather chair and starts counting back from ten with a smile that is just on the right side of expectant and far beyond smitten.

She comes through the door at four – hat in one hand, the other still unwinding her shawl, cheeks flushed from the chilly air outside and a couple of pins sticking out of her slightly askew bun. She has shed her coat and her dress is lovely and her face is animated by whatever transpired at his brother’s home while the man himself was here and Killian is still amazed that a woman this beautiful shares his bed.

“Why didn’t you tell me tea parties are so… bizarre?”

She tosses her things on the chair across his desk and plants her hands on her hips and there is some kind of joke lurking in her bright eyes. Killian raises an eyebrow.

“Do I look like I spend a lot of time drinking tea with respectable ladies?”

Her lips purse as if to respond but them her shoulders drop a little and she smiles sheepishly. Killian reaches out and, when he feels her cold fingers close around his own, he gives a little tug. Emma comes closer all too willingly, hitching her skirts up so she can settle in his lap. He sets her hand under his shirt where the top few buttons have been undone and brings the other one to his mouth, blowing hot air over her delicate skin. He takes extreme pleasure in how quickly she warms up and proceeds to kiss her nose and cheeks and release her hair from its ruined coiffure.

“I take it Mrs Nolan and my sister-in-law did a fine job of entertaining you, my queen?”

“I believe I was the one that entertained them,” she says drily

He does his best to ignore the fact that her hand has seized the opportunity to undo another couple of buttons of his shirt and looks up, studying her face for any sign that something has upset her. But Emma just shakes her head and mumbles something about the afternoon being “very interesting and enlightening” as she leans in and presses her lips to his temple before she starts sliding her way to his mouth.

“And yours, my heart?”

He huffs a little and tries to recall anything beyond the scent of her and how she skin feels below this outrageous corset.

“I will be visiting Captain Nemo for a couple of days to conduct some business in mine and Liam’s name. And collect a ridiculous commission from my imprudent brother for it.”

It was a concession on his part but Liam still found it necessary to point out that he can sometimes take things without working so damn hard for them. Killian made sure to point out how very piratical of him that sounded.

Emma pulls away and he is sure that she is not aware of the way her lower lip juts out slightly – pink and so very tempting.

“When?”

“At the end of the week.”

She looks like she is trying very hard not to show her displeasure and he goes for some levity.

“You know, most women don’t mind that much when their husbands make themselves scarce for a bit.”

Her look is very much not amused and her hands are definitely not where he placed them anymore.

“Most women aren’t married to you.”

Before he can respond, she is on her feet and half way to the door and Killian’s heart lurches after her. He knows his increased engagements and small trips are the thing she dislikes the most, even if she hasn’t said anything, but he hoped this will be the last one and perhaps—

“Emma. Love, I’m sorry, I—“ the sound of the key being turned in the lock echoes in the small study. “Emma?”

“As a man who will be going away at the end of the week,” she makes her way back to his desk, her hands fiddling behind her, obviously trying to loosen her corset a bit. “You are done for the day.”

She snaps the ledger on his desk closed and telling her that’s not the one he’d been working on is the furthest thing from his mind as she kisses him deeply. His chair screeches back a few inches and in the next moment Emma is on her knees between him and his desk.

Killian swallows and frowns, even as he feels his groin tighten at the very sight of her.

“What are you doing, love?”

“You’re smarter than to ask that, Captain.”

He opens his mouth and almost bites his tongue when he feels her small hand cup him through his pants.

“Bloody hell.”

Emma smiles – obviously surprised and delighted by his immediate reaction, and tugs at the laces of his pants. As she shuffles forward, his legs fall open of their own volition to let her settle comfortable. The picture she presents makes him hard as a rock and his hand squeezes the armrest so it doesn’t reach for her but part of him still feels strange having a lady – his wife – on her knees before him, between his legs.

“Queens are not supposed to kneel,” he says, a small part of him trying to dissuade her from her path of action while the rest of him growls and snaps at it.

Emma gives him a look from under her eyelashes even as she gives one last tug on his pants and shamelessly takes him in hand.

“Not even when they wish to?”

Whatever words he might have thrown together in response she swallows along with his cock and Killian is a fool but not fool enough to protest further – not when he can feel the flat of her tongue against him and her lips around him and her hair brushing his skin.

“Christ.”

Her hair is a sight indeed – his lap full of tangled blonde curls that rustle in time with the movements of her mouth. He bites hard on his lip and lets the inhuman groan building inside him through his nose. He doesn’t know how his body remembers to keep breathing when he knows every sensation in it is centered on her and only her.

He feels her nose brush against him, feels her throat muscles tighten as she chokes a little – once, twice, as she tries to take him all in. That’s when he finally allows his hand to touch her – combing lightly through her hair before it slips down to rub his thumb over her jaw, coaxing her to relax and not try anything that’s giving her difficulty.

Emma seems to get the message because her mouth retreads a little and she glances up at him through her hair, something self-conscious in her eyes that smooths out when she takes in his expression.

Killian is not sure what his face is capable of communicating in this moment – desire, gratification, incredulity, awe – certainly not everything he is feeling. He brushes the strands of gold that have fallen in her eyes and looking her in the eyes as she continues her ministrations almost makes him lose control and come right then and there.

“Love, you might wan— Fuck, I’m—“

He sees her frown in thought before he feels her hands slide over his thighs. Then he sees and feels her cheeks hollow around him and he is lost.

When his vision clears and sensation returns to his legs and arms, Killian can do little but moan at the feel of her tongue running leisurely over him before she lays her cheek on his thigh, her warm breaths washing over him in a marriage of deep bliss and light torture.

He curls a strand of her hair around his finger and when she looks up the almost innocent and bashful look on her face is the last thing he expects.

“Was that alright?”

He groans and instead of answering helps her up and back onto his lap, his hand cupping her head and bringing her closer. She stops a hair’s breadth from his lips – a doubt, a question, in her eyes that he answers by running his tongue over her lower lip until she opens up for him.

“I do not mean to disparage your vocabulary, love,” he says as his fingers work diligently on freeing her breasts from the confines of her dress. “But if you are going to be doing things like that to me, you’ll have to find something a bit stronger than “alright” in the dictionary.”

He palms one of her breasts and bites lightly at the other – his cock stirring again at the sound that seems to come from the very center of her and the newfound knowledge of how much Emma likes having her flesh between his teeth. He pulls back to admire the round red mark left behind before he glides his tongue and lips over it gently.

“Then again, sometimes I see and hear things that I can hardly put into words either.”

*****

She wakes up to the first snow, with Killian’s lips against her ribcage, asking her if she would like to meet a far more distinguished captain than himself.

The only reason she doesn’t start packing right away is that her legs have already locked around him.

*****

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ineffablecolors · 6 years ago

Text

The Wife [10/?]

The Wife || Ch 10 ~ 4.5 k || Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8 Ch9 || FF.NET&AO3

Mrs Nolan looks around the parlor as if she is considering buying the house or better yet, as if she expects some spirit or ghoul to jump at her from behind the curtains. This, of course, is highly unlikely, she could make a better case for sea serpents, what with the unconventional sapphire colour of the upholstery, the ship’s wheel mounted on one wall and the multiple paintings of the ocean at different stage of unrest. Emma manages to restrain her eyeroll and just shakes her head at her friend’s poised suspicion, and invites her to take a seat.

Ruby comes in with the tea and a three-tier tray carrying a plethora of small sandwiches and scones, decorated with fruit and flowers that Emma is not quite clear on whether are meant to be eaten or not.

Granny took one look at Mary Margaret’s perfectly stylish hair, marble-white face and reserved expression and returned to the kitchen with a huff, and Emma thinks it will be best for all involved if their eyes don’t lock again.

The second Ruby is done pouring the tea and has closed the door behind her, Mary Margaret places her small hand over Emma’s and gives her the most entreating and pitying look she has ever seen on her face.

“How are you, Emma?”

She blinks a couple of times and wills away another unbecoming movement of her eyes and reminds herself that Mary cares for her and, since finding out that she is to be a mother, has decided it is her job to protect everyone she knows and loves. She reminds herself that she appreciates Mary’s protective nature and nurturing instincts and that she is truly grateful for the distraction of her presence right now. For any distraction from how sad Killian’s eyes looked that morning, how much older he seemed from the night before when he sat on her bedroom floor and told her stories about sea creatures and far off beaches for hours, how absent he felt even as he kissed her forehead before walking out.

She shakes her head and tries to smile at her guest.

“I believe I should be the one asking you that.”

“Oh.”

Mary places her hand on her slightly protruding belly and smiles coyly. She hasn’t grown that much in size since Emma last saw her but somehow she looks even softer and more content – a feat she didn’t think accomplishable.

“I’m well. I get tired early but I’m full of energy and good humour in the mornings.”

“Then you should have come earlier.”

“Emma,” another squeeze to her hand. “Truly, are you well?”

“I am very well.”

“You look… why, you do look well. You look healthier.”

*****

Mary can see that her slightly incredulous tone nettles Emma a little and she blushes at the obvious implication that her friend looked less than in perfect health before her wedding.

And yet, looking at the hair flowing down her shoulders and the clear skin around her eyes, she can’t help but note that she has never known Emma to look better. There was always some kind of nervous energy about her, a certain way she would sit even – at the very edge of her seat, as if always poised for flight – which is almost entirely absent in the way she holds herself now.

“Thank you.”

Emma has shaken off whatever annoyance Mary’s assessment of her person might have caused and is now looking at her with some amusement in her light eyes.

“Emma, I hope you know that you can tell me anything. Is— Have you settled in?”

“Oh, yes. You should’ve come sooner. It is even lovelier when it is warm and sunny. We could have had tea outside.”

“And perhaps I might have caught a glimpse of that mysterious husband of yours.”

She has taken Emma’s request to not judge Captain Jones prematurely to heart but she cannot help the slight archness of her tone. She knows she is Emma’s first friend to pay her a visit – in truth, she is Emma’s only friend – at least from her old life, she thinks cautiously – and she finds it a touch rude of the gentleman to not even grace her with an introduction.

The way Emma’s face falls immediately makes her regret the small jab but, before she can attempt to take it back, Mrs Jones composes herself and replies calmly.

“Alice – his daughter, is leaving in two days. They are spending the day together in town.”

“And you?”

“And I was invited along but declined. I’ve spent a fair amount of time with Alice, I thought she should have some time with her father, just the two of them.”

“That’s very considerate of you. Are you two… I hope she doesn’t see you as an intruder or—”

“Oh, no. Alice is lovely, I— well, I think we get along rather well, as a matter of fact.”

Mary can’t help but smile at the turn of Emma’s head and the pleased, almost proud, little smile on her face.

“I didn’t know she was still here.”

“Yes, well—“ Emma hesitates for a moment, clearly debating if she should express her thoughts or not and Mary gives her an encouraging nod. “I can assure you the notion of Killian not wanting his daughter around couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“Ah. That is good to know. Then why is she leaving, if I may ask?”

“She has her own life away from Storybrooke at this point but… I think— I hope she will be back soon.”

“Do you not wish to be alone with him?”

“What? No, why would you— Mary.”

Now Mary Margaret is truly taken aback by the anger in her friend’s eyes. In the four years she has known her, she has seen Emma treated unfairly, or downright cruelly, a number of times and yet, she has never seen her angered, has never seen her eyes flashing with warning like they are now.

“I told you he hasn’t been anything but kind to me.”

“You wrote so, yes. But I needed to hear it from you.”

Emma’s expression softens a little but her voice remains firm.

“And now you have. It is believing me that seems to give you trouble.”

“I’m sorry. I do not know him but I do know you. You have not been given the chances you deserve and you are still young and beautiful and you deserve…”

She trails off, unsure how to explain that she believes Emma deserved much better than being sold off to a reclusive old bachelor without further insulting her husband.

“A chance? Because, Mary, I— I feel like I’m finally being given one.”

“Here?”

“Here,” she affirms with a nod and a smile that Mary Margaret can’t find any falsehood in.

“So you… you are not unhappy?”

“You said I looked better than ever,” Emma teases, her smile turning sly.

She takes one of the thumb-sized sandwiches they have yet to touch and pops it in her mouth, in a manner that Mary Margaret would usually scold her for, and leans back on the plush settee with a relaxed air that is as unexpected as it is becoming.

Mary always worried that Emma was one blow away – not from crumbling completely but from detaching herself from life entirely, and she came to the Jones household with a fear in her heart that she should find her friend more rigid and unreachable than ever. She is almost afraid this Emma is some trick, some role she has been convinced to play by Regina or her new husband.

“I am. Happy, I mean,” Emma’s smile is timid, almost shy, and that’s how Mary knows this is no lie. “I think… I’m happy for the first time in a long while and I think it’s real for the first time ever.”

“Oh.”

Mary Margaret blinks at her friend helplessly for a few seconds, trying to readjust her perception of Emma’s situation. Then she reaches for both her hands and squeezes them tightly.

“Oh, Emma, I’m so glad to hear it.”

“Hush now. Don’t… don’t ruin it,” Emma looks down at their clasped hands. “I feel wretched saying it right now as it is. Killian is so torn up over Alice leaving and—“

“Of course. But at least she is not leaving you in a house of tension and resentment.”

“No, I mean – yes, you’re right. I just…” Emma sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose in a move that Mary has never seen before from her. “I should have known things were going too well.”

“Emma, no. You shouldn’t think like that. You deserve good things and, if you are made truly happy here, then I’d say so does your husband,” Mary eyes her carefully, considering if it is the right time to ask, but in the end her curiosity wins out. “Was he— I mean, is it… is it good?”

“Is what—“ one look at her face seems to tell Emma exactly what she is asking. “Oh.”

“I don’t want to pry. I just want to be sure that you are not being—“

“We… we haven’t… we haven’t.”

She blinks in confusion again and watches Emma stuff her mouth with two more sandwiches in quick succession. Another interesting change – if Emma ever had any appetite, Mary wasn’t there to see it. But right now that’s the least interesting thing to her.

“I’m not asking about anything specific just—“

“Mary. We— There hasn’t been anything specific. Anything at all.”

Mary Margaret leans back in her seat and looks askance at her friend, not ready to believe what she is hearing. Unless—

“Is he— I mean, can’t he—“

“No,” Emma replies quickly before she blushes and looks away. “I mean I don’t know but I don’t think so.”

“When he was injured in the war—“

“He wasn’t injured in the war. That is… his hand, that wasn’t— I do not know, alright? But it would not matter if—“

“Emma, of that I can assure you – it will matter.”

Emma’s spine seems to straighten and she gives her an almost challenging look.

“It will not. I’d still rather have him than...”

“Someone else?”

“Anyone else.”

Mary Margaret opens her mouth and snaps it shut in the next second. She expected to find her friend lonely, she feared she might find her mistreated, she was just overjoyed to find her content – happy, instead. Somehow the thought of finding Mrs Emma Jones in love never crossed her mind. And yet here she sits, looking better than ever, as stated.

The silence between them stretches for a cupful of moments, both heavy with meaning and light with relief and tentative hopes, before Emma takes a gulp of her tea.

“It is no matter, I have my own bed chamber and we haven’t— That is we’ve only—”

“Oh, Good Lord. Please tell me you have kissed your husband, Mrs Jones.”

“Of course, I have!” She has certainly never seen Emma with a blush that deep and bright. “Recently.”

“Why— Did you not wish to? I have not seen the man but…”

Mary smiles at Emma’s poor attempt to turn her face away and her assumptions grow stronger with every contortion of the other woman’s face.

“You know I accepted the fact that I should be married to someone I’ve never met but… given the chance, I was glad to come to know him before…”

“Oh, of course, dear. I just didn’t think— Well, usually men—“

“Of one thing I can assure you – Captain Jones does few things the “usual” way.”

Mary Margaret hums and finally takes a sip of her own teacup as she slowly begins to form a picture of Captain Killian Jones in her head. It is not a bad picture but, if the way Emma is toying with her fingers and her lips keep twitching up are any indication – it’s about to only get better.

*****

“Tell me to stay.”

His hand freezes where it was about to point out a clever detail in the painting they’ve been contemplating for a couple of minutes. He turns around and fixes his daughter with an almost stern look.

“Darling?”

“Tell me to stay and I will.”

“You are already bored of Storybrooke.”

“I’m not bored of being home. Being with you.”

“But you miss her. You miss your other home.”

Alice looks down at the gloves she is crumpling in her hands and bites her bottom lip and, if there is anything Killian wants to see less than his daughter riding away from him, it is his daughter feeling guilty for doing so.

“Alice,” he moves forward and pries one of her hands away to cradle it in his larger one. “I understand.”

“But I— I will miss you so much.”

“And I you, darling. But you will be back soon enough. You’ll tire of all the dirty streets and gaudy opera houses.”

“I do hate opera.”

“That you do. What’s all the rage in the city now then?”

“Well… Robin said something about a new playwright who is making a name for himself. But you know she mostly wants someone to keep her company while she practices.”

“And you keep saying that you will show me what she has taught you to do with a bow and arrow. Perhaps you can teach Emma, seeing as I’m a hopeless case.”

He waves his wooden hand jokingly, his breath backing in his throat the way it always does – even with her, when Alice takes it in her free one.

“Are you happy?”

He blinks at her in honest confusion.

“You know I’m always happiest when you are here.”

“But what about while I’m not. When I leave now, do you… Do you think she can make you happy?”

“Alice. It is not— It is never another’s job to make you happy,” he steps closer and brings their hands up between them. “Even the people we love most cannot always be with us and when they are, we should not burden them with the responsibility of our own happiness.”

She looks down and he releases her hand, tipping her chin up so her eyes stay locked with his – blue on achingly familiar blue, and he taps his pointer finger on the heart pendant around her neck.

“The love they have for you, however – that is forever. That is what you lean on when you have to make up your mind and your heart. And then you build your happiness together.”

Her eyes swim with tears that he hopes are not entirely sorrowful as she nods resolutely.

“You will always, always be part of my happiness, my sweet girl. And I hope I will always be a part of yours.”

“Always.”

“Good.”

“I just… I always hated to leave you with… mother. But now I think— You like Emma, don’t you?”

Now it’s his turn to lower his head and he chuckles ruefully, his hand reaching to tug a little at his cravat.

“I’m happy you seem to like her, darling.”

“I like her all the more because she likes you.”

“Alice, you shouldn’t presume to know the minds—“

“I know, I know. One should never presume to know another person’s mind. Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t like her for being smart enough to like you.”

This time his chuckle has a bit more humour in it and he urges his daughter along the hall of the small gallery.

“Whether you like a person or not rarely has much to do with the mind and wisdom of it all.”

“Father—“

“But, if it will put your mind at ease,” he shoots her a sideways glance to let her know that he feels the information is being wheedled out of him. “Aye, I enjoy Emma’s company. And I believe she is not averse to mine. Whether that is smart or not of her remains to be seen.”

He sees Alice shake her head from the corner of his eye but her smile is fond and bright and he feels warmth bloom in his chest. Somehow, somewhere along the way, something must have gone right, for his daughter to be such a source of light.

“Come. We’ll be late. You know how I hate getting in after the play has begun.”

*****

“You will look after Jolly.”

“I will.”

“And you will write to me.”

“Of course, I will.”

“And you will tell me all the things papa won’t.”

“I shall not promise that.”

Even at this age, Alice’s pout is a force of nature and Emma shudders to think what power it might have held when she was a little blonde sprite that wanted to fly out of windows. But then the faux petulance clears and she has never seen eyes as clear and earnest as the ones she has inherited from her father. Alice shuffles closer where they sit on her bed, presumably gathering her luggage, and Emma feels like she is finally going to find their true purpose for being here without Ruby to help. The girl takes one of her hands and squeezes it hard – intimate and imploring, and Emma tries not to let her face fall at the thought of seeing her off in a few hours.

“And you will look after him.”

“Always.”

*****

“Pull yourself together, girl.”

Ruby looks up from her apron to glare at her grandmother’s back but she wipes away the moisture in the corner of her eye and takes up the rag she abandoned on the table.

“Instead of moping around, go ask the captain if he needs anything before he locks that door for the night. And, for all of our sakes, tell the missus to stay away for one night. Last thing we need is them two falling out now.”

“She wouldn’t like it.”

“I’d say she has disliked enough things in life to know she can’t always get her way.”

Ruby huffs and smacks down the wet rag next to Granny’s elbow, she wipes her hands and walks out, all with a scowl on her face that matches the sullen and irritated feeling in the house.

Some of it disperses when she sees Emma already outside Captain Jones’s study but her smile at the reassuring predictableness of them dies down in the face of Emma’s own scowl.

“Ma’am, I would advise you—“

“Yes, I have already been told not to disturb.”

Before Ruby can conceive of something reassuring or placating, Emma turns on her heel and – perhaps most worrying of all – makes her way toward the staircase, rather than the library. Ruby rushes after her despite her better judgement.

“I know it’s not my place but—“

Emma whirls around, her hands crossed in front of her and her jaw locked and Ruby feels her heart twinge painfully at the way she looks caught somewhere between hurt and frustration.

“It’s usually just the one night. Then he plunges back into his papers and—“

“’Usually’ I’m not here.”

Ruby smiles again though it’s small and still a little sad – she has always had a soft spot for stubborn ones.

“Yes and, pardon me for saying so, but you haven’t been here that long either.”

Emma deflates a little under her gaze, even as she keeps her protective stance.

“But I’m here to stay.”

“I hope so.”

And she does. She thinks Mrs Emma Jones is the best thing to happen to this home since Miss Alice was born and she truly hopes they all get to keep her.

*****

Emma groans and flips onto her other side yet again. She is not a silly young girl and she is not going to be kept awake by someone else’s obstinacy, be it even her husband’s. Still there is a needle of guilt that has slipped neatly between her ribs and pokes her on every breath as she thinks that she has already let herself be cowered from her promise to Alice and from her own determination to not let Killian only come to her when he chooses.

The moon is high in the dark sky and has been hovering there, mocking her, much longer than she is comfortable admitting. She flips again, the bed groaning mournfully under her as she tries to dislodge that blasted needle. That’s when she hears the stairs groan almost in the same rhythm.

The very fact that she actually hears Killian going to bed is telling. His steps are unusually heavy and somewhat uneven and Emma feels her ears straining after them as they recede down the hallway without pause. His door doesn’t creak but it slams back into its casing without consideration or finesse.

Emma squeezes her eyes shut resolutely, telling herself she should take his example and put this day to an end. She is trying to will herself to sleep when she hears a dull thud from down the hallway. It’s probably nothing but with a resigned sigh Emma realizes she doesn’t need it to be something, she just needs an excuse.

She pulls a blue woolen shawl over her nightgown and slips her bare feet into a pair of slippers quickly, before she can change her mind, and steps out of her chamber quiet as a shadow, even though she is about to intrude on the only other occupant on the floor. Her knock is just as quiet when she reaches his door and it’s no real surprise when it yields no reply. She clenches her fist tighter, her toes curling from the cold and the shiver that runs through her frame gives her the impulse to knock louder.

“Killian?”

She waits a second, two, three, to no avail. She should turn around and go seek some of the warmth left between her sheets but the knowledge that she won’t be comfortable again tonight unless she sees him has already taken root inside her.

She knocks again, twice.

“Killian.”

Nothing. That’s when she actually starts to worry and before she can consider the wisdom and propriety of it, her hand is pushing down on the handle and she has slipped inside his room, her eyes sweeping around with almost childish curiosity.

Unlike her own chambers, the moon seems to have almost no access to Killian’s bedroom and she can see little more than dark shapes and deep shadows. Ruby must have made the fire an hour ago and it is steadily dying down but there is enough light for her to make out the colours flickering on the mantle above it. She moves closer, the shapes and hues of stones and shells becoming clear, as well as the grand ship model watching over them.

She turns around slowly, her eyes widening at the frankly enormous canopy bed in the middle of it all. And the man slumped before it.

“Killian?”

She rushes forward and drops down, her knees sounding loud in the quiet stillness of the room. One of her hands grasps his chin and tips it up, the other settles over his heart and she sighs in relief as his chest raises and falls under her palm. Still Killian remains asleep and she guesses he would remain so for the rest of the night, and wake up with a stiff back on his bedroom floor.

Emma gets up and feeds the fire with all the logs piled beside it, making no effort to be quiet about it, but when she comes back to him, Killian is still unconscious to the world. She kneels beside him again and looks him over, trying not to linger. She is thankful that he has already discarded his jacket and cravat. He has also undone a fair number of the buttons on his linen shirt throughout the night, so much so that she can see the black hair shot through with grey under it and it makes her curious. It makes her want to see more so she forces her eyes up and away, trailing over his Adam’s apple and the beard that’s wilder than usual. His mouth is slightly open, the rum on his breath escaping in little puffs, his eyebrows pulled together in obvious tension.

In the next moment, she feels her fingers unconsciously toying with the next button on his shirt and she snatches them away hastily.

“Come on.”

Judging by his reluctance to leave it, Killian seems to think the floor an adequate place to spend the night and even takes the effort to frown and grumble something unintelligible when she slips her arms around him and pulls him up to the foot of the bed. However, once there, the comfort tempts him enough to shuffle around and burrow into the blankets in a way that she finds hard not to smile at. It takes her a few tugs and pushes to get him properly under the covers and, when he buries his face half under one of the plush pillows, she just shakes her head and allows herself to laugh into the darkness.

Later Emma would blame that – the pink of his cheeks and the utter mess that is his hair and the way he seems to try to hide from the world into his huge bed – for the fact that she finds herself unable to turn around and just leave him alone. Surely it is unwise, he is obviously drunk and not completely aware of what he is doing.

The only part she is unclear on is what is more unwise – to leave him alone or to make the decision to stay.

She crawls onto the bed and runs her hand down his shoulder, frowning at the straps and buckles she can feel under the thin material of his shirt. She doubts he sleeps with all of that on but it feels like too much of an intrusion to take it off for him when she has already intruded on his room and is planning on intruding on his bed.

She lifts his head up and onto the pillow, brushing her fingers through his hair and working out the knots, when his eyes flutter open for a brief moment.

“Emma.”

His voice is rough and nasally and the word is a little slurred but it is certainly her name and it’s enough to make her slip between the covers, rubbing her cold feet against the soft sheets and inching her fingers over the space between them until she feels the edge of his sleeve under her fingertips.

She watches his profile – his face a little more relaxed now, and the regular movement of his chest, and she barely realizes when her lids close and her own breathing evens out.

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mystical-flute · 7 years ago

Text

Black Coffee & Pumpkin Pie Ch. 2

Aiden Gold let out a sigh as he sipped at the tea in front of him. He normally hated coming to Granny's, but Gideon had insisted on it upon bringing home the confirmation of his acceptance into Storybrooke's accelerated science program, which was led by Dr. Hyde… which frankly worried Aiden more than the freshness of Granny's lasagna, but if it made Gideon happy, well, he couldn't resist.

"So Gideon, are you excited to start your science program?" he asked weakly as the boy practically inhaled his dinner.

The boy nodded eagerly, licking a bit of beef from his lip. "Yeah, sure am! It'll be great. And I'm really glad Roderick got accepted too!"

"That worries me," Belle said with an amused shake of her head. "You'll actually pay attention to what Dr. Hyde is saying, right?"

Gideon's eyes nearly rolled, but stopped as Aiden shot him a look. "Yeah, I will," the boy grumbled, poking at his chili with a spoon.

Aiden smiled as he watched his wife and son, but there was still pain behind his smile. His elder son, Neal, should have been here with them, celebrating, but that horrible woman he'd first been married to had spirited his son out of Storybrooke in the dead of night with her bastard of a new husband, and Aiden hadn't seen him since, despite Aiden's exhaustive efforts. His fingers gripped the tea cup just a bit harder as he glanced up at an unfamiliar face who had just entered the diner.

"Who is that?" he asked with a small frown.

"Oh, that's the new firefighter. I overheard him talking to Emma last week when mom and I were here," Gideon explained with a shrug. "Don't know what his name is though."

Aiden frowned slightly, looking over at the firefighter, feeling some sort of odd connection to him. But why? He'd never seen the man before in his life.

"Aiden? Are you okay?" Belle asked with a tilt of her head.

He blinked, turning to his wife and smiling. "Yes darling, I'm just fine. Sorry. My head was in the clouds for a moment."

Belle smiled and turned back to her sandwich. Aiden returned the smile, but he still felt a strange pull toward the stranger that was dashing out the door with greasy bags in his hand… and whenever Aiden Gold set his mind on something, he always got his answers.

When he parted ways with his wife and son after lunch, Aiden made his way back to the pawn shop, flipping the sign back to open and making his way into the back room as he pulled out his cell phone, dialing the familiar number.

"Hello, Zelena? It's Aiden. I would like you to start looking into some files for me again," he said when the woman picked up on the other line.

"The ones about your son?" Zelena replied with a sigh. "Aiden, we've been over this with so many people. Lawyers, private investigators… you even harassed Mother Superior about it!"

"Because that blue-dressed woman knows more than what she's admitting to," Aiden thought bitterly, before speaking into the phone. "Zelena, please. I need you to look into the files again It's my son's disappearance. I just want an answer."

Zelena exhaled on the other end, and Aiden could see her leaning back against her high-back leather chair, pinching her forehead in annoyance. "Okay. Fine. I'll have the investigators open the case again. I'll call you if anything new comes up."

"That's all I ask, dearie. That's all I ask…" he said, ending the call and smirking, sitting back in his chair. Whoever that man was, Aiden Gold would get his answers.

-----

Though the only photograph Neal had seen of his father had been from a decade ago, he recognized the man anywhere, even without the help of seeing his step-mother and half-brother. He'd felt a cold chill go down his spine at the quick look he'd gotten of the man, even though he knew this was exactly why he had wanted to come to Storybrooke. So many things had whirled through his mind: did his father recognize him? What would the man's reaction even be to seeing his long-missing son again? Hell, even how he would react to seeing his father again wasn't something Neal was sure of.

He forced himself not to shiver as he made his way back to the firehouse, clutching the bags of takeout in his hands. Being the delivery boy for lunch wasn't something he'd thought he'd be doing as a firefighter, but he supposed that, being the low man on the totem pole meant running around doing these errands when there was downtime.

"Cassidy! Well done! And you got back in the time allotted," Chief Hood said with a wide smile as he took the bags out of Neal's hands.

"Thank you sir," Neal replied with a smile.

Being hired in as a firefighter had been one thing, but it was another thing entirely once he'd actually gotten started at work. Then the real test began – impressing the boss in person, and quite frankly, that was more terrifying than finding out information he didn't want to know about his father, because Chief Hood could fire him if he wasn't careful.

"Now go on and enjoy the rest of your lunch," Robin told him with a squeeze of his shoulder.

Neal nodded and made his way over to one of the free seats in the dining room, taking a bite of the club sandwich he'd ordered.

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

He almost choked, looking at the source of the voice. "Did you just quote Alice in Wonderland to me?"

"On the contrary, I quoted The Mad Hatter to you," the man replied with a smug look on his face. "So, rookie, do you have any guesses as to why a raven is like a writing desk?"

Neal blinked in disbelief. Was this guy serious?

"Jefferson, are you torturing the new guy with your stupid riddles again?" another voice cut in, the man taking a seat next to Neal. "You don't have to answer him. He just does this to try to freak out the rookies."

The first man – Jefferson – rolled his eyes. "Do you have to ruin my fun every time there's a new person? It's not like we get them very often! So what do you think, new guy?"

"Uh… I don't know. Raven wings could be used to make a quill that someone uses to write with at their desk?" he suggested weakly.

Jefferson's eyes widened, seemingly impressed. "Wow. That's actually a good one. The going theory has something to do with Edgar Alan Poe, but I like your guess better. I'm Jefferson. Welcome to the department."

"Ali," the second man said, holding out his hand. "We heard about you. You're Neal, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I just started today."

"It's nice to have a new face around here. Just stick by us and you'll be perfectly fine," Ali said with a grin that suggested Neal was instead in for a wild ride with those two. "So if there's anything you wanna know about our charming little town, just let us know."

He had no idea what he got himself into, but he smiled anyway. He should probably make friends in this town, right? He was far from New Orleans and the friends he had there after all… and he was here for answers. Maybe these guys could help him out with those answers.

"Hey, do you guys know anything about Mr. Gold?"

The two men's faces changed in an instant, dropping in surprise and… was that a bit of fear Neal noted on Jefferson's?

"Why do you want to know about Mr. Gold?" Jefferson asked.

Neal paused, taking the time to chew and swallow a bite of his sandwich before answering. "I saw him staring at me when I was picking up the lunch orders today. Does he… do that a lot to people?"

Jefferson and Ali exchanged another look, but it was Ali who finally spoke up. "Well… he is a bit of a suspicious guy. He always has been as far as I know. Apparently his kid went missing years ago, so every time someone comes to town he's immediately on alert. At least, that's what they say around town. I was only a baby when it happened. But there's probably some information on it in the library."

"Which just so happens to be run by his wife," Jefferson added. "But Mr. Gold's been suspicious way before his kid was taken. It's just sort of his thing, you know? Gold is the big bad brooding shopkeeper, Mrs. Nolan is the principal who can go from either giving you a unicorn sticker to kicking your ass in the parking lot after school. You know, normal small town things, right?"

"Uh… I guess? I came from New Orleans though so I'm not sure. This is the smallest town I've ever been in. But from what I've seen in movies I guess that sounds right?" He'd never heard of the ass-kicking principal before, but he knew he should probably try to avoid her if he could.

"The Big Easy? And you came to a little dump town like this?" Ali asked, staring at Neal as if he'd grown a second head.

He shrugged. "Peace and quiet. And after a while the humidity in New Orleans got to be a bit much."

"You went from one extreme to the other. The winters here are awful," Ali said, shivering a little at the thought. "And it's already late summer. Ugh, I can feel the cold already!"

Jefferson rolled his eyes. "And I'm the dramatic one? God Ali. Ignore him, Neal. He just wasn't made for the cold. It can get bad here, but you'll grow to love it."

Ali let out a snort before the alarm began to screech over their heads, causing them to jump from their seats and run for the truck as they pulled on their equipment. Neal had to admit, he didn't think that his first fire in a small town like Storybrooke would happen on his first day on the job.

"There's been a cave-in at the old mines. Some teenagers were down there and the roof caved in around them," the dispatcher said over the radio as Jefferson and Ali both swore loudly as Jefferson silently climbed in the back. Whatever this was, it was obvious that it had happened before and seemed to be a major thorn in the sides of his superiors.

The bright red truck streaked down the road, causing the few pedestrians to turn their heads in alarm. A few of them had their eyes widening when they realized what direction the truck was heading in.

"Alright men, you know what we have to do," Chief Hood said with a small sigh as they stood in front of the mine, the sheriff and a few other officers already trying to block people from getting too close.

"Who goes down this time, Chief?" Jefferson asked. "I went last time."

Chief Hood looked conflicted as he glanced at the men surrounding him, before finally sighing. "Ali. This time it's on you."

Neal noted irritation on the man's face as he silently nodded as walked off to get ready. Biting his lip, Neal carefully made his way over to the chief, who was already looking as done with the day as someone could possibly be.

"Is this common? Teenagers going into those mines?" he asked.

The older man pressed his lips together, thinking. "It happens more often than I'd like it to, I'll say that. But I wouldn't say it's extraordinarily common. But every time we go down to rescue them, I think this will be the last time and it never is. Teenagers never learn."

He nodded slowly. "Well, I just hope that with this cave-in, it won't be possible for them to get down there anymore," Neal said.

"Start hoping that everyone down there is alive instead," the older man snapped before walking off to Neal's confusion.

"Don't worry. That wasn't personal. Last time we were called to go into the mines, his son, Roland, was part of the group we pulled out of there. He's worried that Roland will be down there again," Jefferson said from behind him.

Neal winced. "I'm sorry I asked about people going down there then."

The other man waved him off, leading him in the direction of the opening of the mine. "Don't apologize. It's not like you know this town like the rest of us do. I bet Chief Hood's already forgotten about it. Besides, all that we need to focus on is saving the kids and not dropping Ali down there with them and running the other way. Now come on. Let's go see if we can make contact with them."

Neal and Jefferson managed to clear a free spot to lower Ali down, Neal shining a light down to one of the frantic teens below. They seemed to be standing on some sort of elevator. How did they even get down there?

"Oi! How many of you are down there?" he yelled to a blonde boy who was shielding his eyes from the light from the sun and the camera Neal was slowly lowering down into the dungeon.

"T-there's only two of us! Please hurry!" the boy replied, coughing as dust rose into the air from some unstable rocks around them.

Two was way too many in Neal's opinion, but he nodded. "Okay, just hold on. We're going to get you guys out of there!" he called down to them before looking at Chief Hood. "There's two of them sir!"

Chief Hood approached them. "Sir, we're all ready," Ali said, tugging anxiously at the harness around his waist and looking uneasily at the hole.

"Good. Let's start then."

Neal watched on a video screen as Ali was lowered down into the mines, repressing a shiver. How could people be so stupid to go down into an abandoned mine? And not just once, but repeatedly? He had a feeling that this was going to be what the majority of his calls were going to be for.

"Okay Ali, we're right on target. You're about ten feet out," he said into the walkie-talkie on his shoulder. He could hear the anxious whispers of the gathered public, chancing a glance at them and spotting his father almost instantly. He tore his eyes away, looking at the camera screen again.

"I've got one of the kids, pull us up!" Ali's voice said. "And make sure there's a paramedic nearby. He's going to need some help."

He stood, waving over the paramedics as a woman dressed in a black business suit walked up to the sheriff, her lips pulled down into a frown.

Ali emerged with one of the teenagers a few moments later and the paramedics wasted no time in lifting the boy onto the stretcher and running back to the ambulance, hiding themselves from the prying eyes of the crowd as Ali went back down into the mine to get the other teenager, Neal continuing to monitor the cameras.

Something inside the mine suddenly creaked, the sound of the metal groaning sending a collective chill down everyone's spines. Neal saw Chief Hood's eyes widen as his hand reached for the walkie-talkie on his shoulder.

"Ali, get the kid as quick as you can. That elevator is going to go at any minute!" Chief Hood shouted.

"Chief, you're not going to like this. It's Bobby," Ali said on the other end of the line. "And he doesn't look like he's doing so good. I've got him hooked up, so bring us up."

Neal knew that the kid being named by Ali wasn't a good thing, and he was worried as the rest of the squad seemed to freeze for a moment before working frantically to get the duo up and out of the mine.

There was another crash, this one much louder, and caused the ground to rumble beneath their feet before Ali and Bobby were pulled up, and Neal's eyes widened in fear, but the machine kept pulling. Something was coming up, but what?

"Someone grab him, now!" Ali's voice shouted from the cavern before his black hair and the blonde hair of the teenager peeked through the smaller opening of the mine. The paramedics wasted no time in snatching the teenager up and running to the second ambulance they had on the scene. The first ambulance's doors opened and the teenager stepped out, having gotten a clearance from the paramedics inside, while the second ambulance sped away.

"Who was the other kid we rescued?" Neal asked Ali as he watched Chief Hood's somber form go over to the sheriff and the woman in the black pantsuit.

"Robert Nolan," Ali explained as the sheriff's car went speeding down the street, "he's the sheriff's son."

#swanfire #neal cassidy #rumplestiltskin #belle french #gideon gold #jefferson #aladdin #robin hood #black coffee and pumpkin pie #fanfiction

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