#cs baby ff

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: "Sky's Canvas"

This little future Swan-Jones-Mills family fic envisioning them during their happy beginning post-s6 would probably have been well suited to Father's Day last week, but I didn't think of it until too late. I hope it will still be enjoyable this week too. It's a part of my one shot collection on AO3 or ff.net (if you'd prefer to read it either of those places instead) I hope you have fun picturing this alternate idea of what might have happened - and I'd love to hear what you think!

Notes: I toyed with the idea for this one for quite some time. The prompt elements that I have used are: a museum, the phrase “it was just a joke”, and also some small art facts – mostly about the particular museum itself (which is real). I have also put in a CS daughter (my personal head canon imagined one, Morgan Ruth Jones, whom I have written about before), and a college aged Henry. So, this is set somewhere in an alternative post-season 6 reality, where Henry stays in the Land Without Magic to seek his story, and also to be close enough to visit his family often, and for them to return the favor…)

by: @snowbellewells

The bubbly, nonstop chatter of her four-year-old little girl, which has cheerfully been filling Emma Swan’s ears for the past hour and a half, suddenly stills, immediately grabbing her attention and setting off an interior maternal alarm. She turns to seek out Morgan Ruth Jones – her little pirate princess – wondering if her daughter has yet again managed to sneak away from them and find herself in some sort of trouble.

Luckily, Emma doesn’t have to look far before she hears a chortling trill of baby laughter and locates her toddler with the disheveled head of dark, ringlet curls and twinkling, mischievous eyes – an aquamarine mix of her own green gaze and her father’s ocean blue – standing before a huge oil painting of a Spanish galleon rocking precariously on the stormy main and looking up at her father with fixed adoration. “Really, Papa?” Emma hears Morgan chirp, practically bouncing on the balls of her little feet as she tugs anxiously at his hook in eagerness to hear his answer. “Was it a storm that big you sailed ‘Roger’ through when you went to save Henwy in Neverland?!”

Emma is just chuckling wryly at the changes which have transpired in her life to give her a little girl more interested in daring adventures, ancient naval ships, and sword fighting than frilly dresses or dolls and makeup, even as her husband raises his eyes just enough to smirk at her knowingly over Morgan’s head, when another voice, youthful, warm, and settling into its masculine, adult timbre, answers Morgan’s question from over her shoulder, announcing Henry’s arrival to join them. “It was bigger, Pipsqueak,” he confirms jovially, pausing briefly to wrap a wiry arm around his mom in a quick side-hug before continuing to the side of his younger half-sister, kneeling to her level and adding with a gleam in his eye, “A mermaid summoned it to drown them all.”

“Hen-wy!!” Morgan squeals with glee; the painting, and even her papa’s beloved ship, forgotten as she flings herself into her brother’s arms with enough force to nearly bowl him over, causing Henry to chuckle as he catches her close to his chest.

“Hey Munchkin,” he greets affectionately, standing to his full height again – now even with his stepdad’s – still holding Morgan, her arms wrapped around his neck so tightly that Emma has to wonder if she’s ever going to let go. Turning to include his mom and his surrogate father in his next statement, Henry adds. “It’s great to see you all. Things must be quiet in Storybrooke, if you’re still going to stay all weekend.”

Here he arcs an eyebrow in curious bemusement, a trait Emma realizes all too well that he has picked up from her dashing scoundrel of a husband and probably uses to equally charming effect on all the girls he meets in his freshman courses at Bowdoin College. It is clear he has settled easily into the small arts school in Brunswick, Maine, just under a two hours’ drive from them, and that the campus atmosphere and freeing anonymity and normalcy he has there must be agreeing with him. Emma wants to snort in disbelieving laughter at his jest, though well aware that he knows better than to ever think his hometown would go completely, boringly normal. Instead, she shakes her head resignedly, merely giving her grown son a playfully long-suffering sigh. “You know how it is,” she shrugs, “never a dull moment. But – if you don’t count the dwarves coming to blows at Granny’s the other morning because Tom Clark accidentally sat in Leroy’s spot at the counter and got his flu germs on Leroy’s plate of bacon and eggs…”

“Which I do count,” Killian interrupts smoothly, winking at his adopted son. “I am the one who risked infection from the virus in forestalling their skirmish.”

Emma rolls her eyes at her deputy husband’s interruption and mutters “drama queen” under her breath, which Henry and Morgan both clearly hear and snicker at before she continues, “Otherwise it’s been as quiet as it ever gets. No deathly dangerous villains or curses meant to tear us apart and wipe our memories blank.”

“Yet…” Killian adds on needlessly, an ominous tone in his voice acknowledging the fact that they all know it’s only a matter of time before some new threat is wreaking havoc again. Their sleepy little town might seem like a place lost in time and space, but it is still a veritable magnet for trouble, and none of them can deny it.

Killian, however, waggles his brows playfully after his foreboding aside, making Henry shake his own head at his stepfather. It had seemed a rather grim pronouncement for the reformed pirate – more like his mom, really.

Morgan grins widely back at her father, nodding in gleeful agreement, her gap-toothed smile showing where she has lost a fair few of her baby teeth recently. “Yeah…yet!” she exclaims, not fully understanding the concern behind the sentiment, but always ready – as is her entire extended family – for action and excitement.

Emma shakes her head in humored exasperation at her two “children” – wondering, as she often does, how someone who has seen and experienced as much as Killian, who has witnessed some of the worst humanity had to offer and suffered at their hands, who has lived so long and weathered such crushing heartbreak and hate, can still easily find such simple, child-like joy in the littlest things. “Really, guys?” she questions, looking to her college student son for more mature support. “Can’t we just enjoy things being normal for once?”

“Aye, of course, my Love,” Killian replies deftly. “ ‘Twas merely a joke,” he adds, leaning over to brush a quick kiss to her brow that makes Morgan giggle, hide her face in Henry’s shoulder, and cry out, “Eww, they’re kissing again!” in a frank, tickling whisper against her older sibling’s skin.

“Just a joke is right,” Henry declares, motioning them forward to venture on into the rest of the Bowdoin College Museum and toward the particular exhibit he wants them to see. The collection was an 1811 bequest from a wealthy benefactor to the school and was one of the earliest college art collections in the country, as Henry had enthusiastically told her over the phone some weeks ago when his project had commenced. His Maritime History class had done a cross-curriculum partnership with the arts department to put together a student exhibit of research and mixed media in the college’s museum, and Henry has been quite secretive about his entry, even if insistent that they needed to see it in person. “Like anyone could be around you lot for long and think you were normal!” he scoffs.

“Ha ha,” his mother laughs drolly, bumping into his side with her shoulder in playful retribution as they move ahead side-by-side, with Killian, who is now holding a wriggling Morgan once again, following closely behind. However, once the jostling ceases, Emma grasps her nearly-grown son’s hand in hers for a moment, stunned anew at how much he has changed from the little boy who had found her in Boston all those years ago, and led her into the very life she has now. Squeezing tightly with emotion welling up in her throat, she wishes he could truly understand how much she loves him.

“Missed you too, Mom,” Henry murmurs softly, pressing her fingers back with his own wrapped around them. It is more than enough and makes her heart flutter in gladness.

Once Henry leads them through a few different rooms and several intriguing displays, he slows when they reach a large, somewhat circular room with a high, arched ceiling, and then turns to them with a mysterious smile on his face and clear anticipation in his big, brown eyes, just as they have always held, even at ten years old.

At first glance, this particular exhibit, this room in itself, seems empty. Looking around with faces equally full of curiosity and confusion, Killian, Emma, and Morgan end up staring back at Henry expectantly until Killian finally speaks up, “Begging your pardon, Lad, but I’m afraid I am not quite certain what you wish for us to see.”

Henry gives a nod of acknowledgement, rather knowingly pleased, and making Emma smirk to herself with a mother’s satisfaction at seeing her son so confidently happy and in his element. ‘He’s definitely got something up his sleeve,’ she thinks affectionately, admittedly finding herself anxious to see what his surprise might be. She knows that Henry has been loving this course all term – not to mention how thrilled her husband had been at the news – and that the long term practicum research projects are being showcased here throughout the entire month of April. Emma can only conclude that her son’s hard work has paid off in a way he’s proud of, and he must believe wholeheartedly that they will be too.

All Henry says is, “I take it you’re ready then?” and at Killian’s nod and Morgan’s “Yes, yes, YES, Henwy!!” exclamation, while she hops up and down exuberantly, he switches off the lights and presses a previously unnoticed button next to the light switch.

Immediately, the light and airy sound of some sort of flute or piccolo trickles through the quiet air of the room, a gently evocative melody with a lingering, haunted quality to its tone, enhanced by the sound echoing beneath of waves washing gently against the hull of some easily floating ship or back and forth over the shore of some deserted bay. Even as the sounds which are familiar and comforting to his tiny family audience wrap around them, small pinpricks of light appear just like stars in the night sky out on the ocean, sparking to life on the walls around them and the high ceiling overhead. It is a constellation spread out just for them in breathtaking majesty. Then, the Author begins to narrate his newest story…

Listening to Henry’s words, Emma feels her breath catch just a bit in both awe and emotion, glancing quickly over at her husband and daughter, before either of them realizes they are being observed. Morgan’s green eyes are wide and sparkling with interest and excitement, her mouth an open “o” as she looks above her, dazzled at what would appear for all the world to be the stars and constellations in the night sky brought indoors and spread out for their entertainment. Killian is silent and still, so much so that Emma knows – as few others would – just how valiantly he is battling some strong emotion…how very touched he is. Emma was never as great a student of the star charts and navigational astronomy as her sailor would have loved to make her, but Henry ate it right up, and she would bet her battered and beloved old VW that Henry has recreated some particular display that holds an extra meaning for he and his stepdad alone.

Shaking herself slightly to bring her focus back to earth and her attention back to the words of Henry’s presentation once more, she hears her son’s voice – soothing, engaging, and reeling her into the adventurous stories behind the scattered specks of light arrayed above them and their meaning and guidance to generations of sailors making their ways on a wide and pathless sea.

“The Cygnus,” Killian mouths silently beside her, appearing genuinely awestruck as he takes his gaze just momentarily from Henry’s representative “sky” to look in the eyes of the young man he has for years now cared for and loved like a son; a sincere gaze of fond understanding passing between them that brings a film of unshed tears to Emma’s vision that she has to rapidly blink away. In fact, soundless though it may be, she catches Killian’s comment only because she is so focused on her husband and his emotional reaction to this gift Henry has given all of them – but her pirate in particular. Emma senses that Killian knows it in this moment and holds tightly to his fingers twined with hers while practically beaming at her son, wondering again how she ever got lucky enough that the two most important people in her world would love each other as much as they each love her.

Morgan reaches over from Killian’s arms to pat her mother’s cheeks as Henry concludes his tale and turns the lights back up. “Don’t cry, Mama,” Morgan coos sweetly. “Henwy’s story was happy in the end. The Swan leads the sailor to his home.”

Emma smiles shakily at her daughter, and then the rest of her family with their looks of understanding. “I know, Baby,” Emma murmurs softly, still brushing away the evidence, but with her smile growing broader all the while. “Don’t worry. These are happy tears.”

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @jennjenn615 @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jrob64 @apiratewhopines

@whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @stahlop @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @winterbaby89

@spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic

@xarandomdreamx @booksteaandtoomuchtv @anmylica @jonesfandomfanatic @motherkatereloyshipper @branlovestowrite

@linda8084 @lfh1226-linda @the-darkdragonfly @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @let-it-raines @ineffablecolors

[everything-person]

Kazoos Advent Calendar

@kazoosandfannypacks Day

Todays gift a fic inspired by a popular winter song.

The Jones Christmas party was a success. The night had been filled with laughter and the exchanging of gifts and pranks. Most everyone had left, most except.

"Swan you really don't have to clean up," Killian insisted for the tenth time.

"It's fine. I know you like your place a certain way," Emma replied picking up some bottles that had been left on the table.

It wasn't even that big of a mess. His friends thankfully cleaned up after themselves as the night went on, for the most part. Knowing he wouldn't be able to convince her otherwise he left her in the living room. He went to the kitchen to begin cleaning there.

The place was clean in no time. In fact the only evidence there was a party was the three garbage bags in the kitchen, which Killian intended to take out in the morning.

"Well," Emma announced shuffling on her feet, "I guess thats it."

At some point she had pulled her hair back in a messy pony tail, along with discarding her sweater. She stood before him in a simple tank top and fitted jeans, still she was the most beautiful woman hes ever had the pleasure of knowing.

"Allow me to show you my appreciation with a drink."

"I can't stay."

"Just one drink." Killian looked in her eyes imploring her to stay just a little longer.

The corner of Emma's mouth turned up slightly in a shy smile, "Alright. One drink."

Killian turned to the kitchen as Emma made herself comfortable on the couch. He warmed some water in a kettle and prepared to mugs. Not long after he disappeared he reemerged holding to mugs.

"Thank you," Emma took the mug and took a sip, "Cinnamon?"

Killian nodded, "Thats how you like it. Is it not?"

"Yeah. I'm just surprised you remembered." She smiled into her mug before taking another sip.

The tips of Killians ears redden as he reached for his remote putting on a virtual yule log with soft music playing in the background.

"There now that should warm us up," he joked.

Emma smiled. They passed the time with light conversation and hidden glances. Before long something caught Killians eye out the windows. He pulled back the curtain slightly to reveal a snow storm.

Emma turned her head to look as well, "Oh I better go." She set her mug down on the coffee table and rose to her feet.

"Swan," He stopped her rising to his own feet, "There must be 3 feet of snow out there."

"I really can't stay."

"It's freezing outside."

Emma stopped looking for her sweater and shoes, looking up at her host, "This evening has been-"

"I'm glad you drop by." Killian took a step closer to her.

"It was really nice."

Killian gently grabbed her hands feeling how cold they got, "Your hands are like ice."

Leaning forward a bit he brought her hands to him as he tried to warm them with his warm breath. Sending a shiver down her spine.

"My mother will start to worry."

Killian picked up his head at this. He was greeted to the sight of a mischievous smile gracing Emmas face.

"Whats your hurry?" he quirked an eyebrow.

Emma looked down at her feet shifting her weight before meeting his gaze again and saying, "My father will be pacing the floor."

Killian straightened more never letting go of her hands, "Listen to the fire place roar."

"Well maybe a half a drink more."

Killian pulled her a little further in before letting her go. Grabbing her mug, he scurried to the kitchen to refill it with her favorite drink. When he returned he handed it back to her and turned the volume up on the fire place.

Cradling the mug close to her she spoke up again, "The neighbors might think."

Killian hesitated only a moment, "It's bad out there."

Emma took a sip from her mug, never taking her eyes off him. Barely taking the mug from her mouth she said, "Whats in this drink?"

Killians eye widen. He opened his mouth to reassure there was nothing in there besides cinnamon and chocolate. But as she lowered her mug her eyes held jest and her smirk calmed him. This was part of her game.

Killian sighed, "Your eyes are like starlight."

"I wish I knew how," Emma put the mug break on the table swaying closer to Killian, "to break this spell."

"Your hair looks swell," Killian smiled down at her. He brought up his hand moving a strand of hair out of her face.

"Mind if I move in closer," Killian asked as he took a step forward, his hands coming to resting on her hips.

"The welcome has been," Emma brought her hands around his neck, "so nice and warm."

"Look out the window at the storm." They began to sway in the spot. The sound of the virtual fire crackling and the soft instrumental music playing guiding them.

"My sister will be suspicious. My brother will be at the door."

He had no doubt that Elsa and Mary Margret would be gossiping about her staying late. David would surely break down his door. But all Killian could focus on was the woman infront of him.

"Gosh your lips look delicious."

Finally the space between them was closed. Their lips danced as sparks flew bewteen them. This had been like nothing either of them had ever experienced before. They pulled each other closer unable to get enough of each other.

When them came up for air, Killian was the first to speak, "Since we've no place to go. Let it snow."

Emma giggled at that before leaning in for another kiss.

Without breaking apart Killian lifted Emma and carried her to his bedroom. It was cold outside but they were sweating by morning.

[exhaustedpirate]

WIP GAME

RULES: Post the names of the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous (please, don't judge me). Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Tag as many people as you have WIPs! (I am not doing that 'cause I don't want to die, thanks!)

I was tagged by @piraterefrigerator because they want to kill me!

(Also I have too many so I'm going to just add the most IP of WIPs)

CAPTAINSWAN FICS (main folder):

3B Canon Divergent

Friends + OUAT (eye roll title)

parent for hire

around the world and back

b99 cs ff (very original)

no death to do us part

MOVIE NIGHT folder (not very fun titles):

Aristocats + OUAT (again eye roll)

meet the joneses

street-wise hercules

TANGLED in you

four weddings and a funeral

three men and a baby

JUKEBOX? JUKEBOX folder:

at the copa (copacabana)

see you l8er, boy

teenage dirtbag

TIKTOK, CROCODILE folder:

a quest of your own

meow

lie detector

I tag @scripted-downfall, @iverna and @profdanglaisstuff because I am curious about your WIPs! No pressure, though!

[kuiinncedes]

big baby rant teehee :]]]]

am i just naive and dumb and delusional to have absolutely no plan for the future ,make dumb decisions like staying in my college city next yr w no job lined up, apply for jobs w the intention of staying in that city, not apply for jobs w all that much urgency or motivation, have this interview and tell them i cant relocate next yr which my mom thinks was the worst offense ever apparently, and fucked myself over and idk why she started yelling but i was like well i'm fucking myself over leave me alone basically

i don't even fucking care jfc whatever but when everything is telling me that this was a bad decision am i fucking dumb to still be like i think i can get a job for next year remote or in this city what the fuck i don't even fucking care rn whatever she can fucking deal with it i'm being a fuckup

i'm gonna still fucking apply for jobs ffs idk like do i fucking need to tell her everything abt my fucking job search why did i even tell her abt hte relocation thing i didn't even want to tell my parents i had a fucking interveiw today but i had to tell my dad since he was home today and ig he told her i shouldve just like said it was whatever when they asked and then said they rejected me like the other one

i'm gonna keep fucking applying idk what fucking choice i have but also like the one part of me that's like whats the fucking point idk why i was rejected the last time not that i htink i was perfect for the position but how am i supposed to do anything better and improve anything and actually get a job

it feels like i'm just submitting resumes to no response and writing cover letters for no reason and getting interviews and stressing and preparing for them and im just gonna get rejected so what's the point

ig i need to have a better mindset abt it like i'm not that like That hopeless abt it ig but now it feels like i'm being naive and overly not rly confident but like . indifferent abt it

idk fuck this whole thing i feel like my mom judges me for everything i'm doing w job search so when she asks me abt stuff i get super sensitive and annoyed and i don't want to tell her which idk if that's fair bc ig she wants to know what i'm doing but idk man like why do i need to tell her TT

this is why i don't wnat to stay here even tho she's like y dont u just stay at home no ones gonna bother u like bro UR gonna bother me when u come home from work u know who's gonna bother me at my apartment ACTUALLY no one or i can work at a nice campus building or cafe and be around my friends

i just don't have the fucking energy and motivation and skill to somehow be one of those ppl who applies for 2384963948732 jobs a day but i feel like i need to be doing that whatever i'm still like i think i can get a job but am i just dumb for being somewhat optimistic abt it still lmfao TT everyone saying the job market for like cs adjacent stuff is shit rn and it's not like i'm an incredible candidate and maybe i've just had stuff easy in the past where i've gotten into good college and shit and gotten good grades

what the fuck am i even talking abt anymore lmfao u know what im gonna shut up and send in some resumes to things that dont need cover letters and idk ugh i just want my parents to stop talking to me abt job search lowkey just let me figure it out and do it at my own pace but is that dumb also whatever i'm going back to campus tmrw and can i just stay for a long time :l and i HAVE AN INTERVIEW ON MONDAY WOWOWOWOW MOM R U PROUD R U LISTENING

what the fuck is the problem if i dont relocate ppl job search w the intention of not relocating right

i may be delusional thinking that i'll get a job but that's better than the alternative i think :DDDDD

[hookedonapirate]

Thank you so much for the beautiful graphic @itsfabianadocarmo! See this other beautiful, heartbreaking graphic by @wefoundloveunderthelight​ here. Thank you so much! Summary: The Jones brothers are polar opposites. Liam's the safe and honorable one, straight-laced and straight as an arrow. The good son. Killian's the dangerous one, the bad boy with tats, leather jackets, a motorcycle and a questionable past. The only things they have in common are panty-melting sea-blue eyes, the flat they share in Storybrooke and a rare blood type. Oh, and apparently their taste in women. Or rather, one woman. Feisty. Blonde. Gorgeous. Green-eyed Goddess. Killian saw her first, but she chose his brother—the nice guy over the playboy. And even though she’s dating his brother, it doesn't make him want her any less. If that's not bad enough, she moves in with them and he has to pretend he's not completely in love with her. His life could not get any worse… Until Liam dies in a tragic motorcycle accident. Leaving each of them with one half of a broken heart. Now Killian and Emma are left helping each other pick up the pieces. Just as they're beginning to learn how to live in their new reality, another riptide pulls them further into the deep end when she finds out she's pregnant with Liam's baby. Notes: This chapter...I don't really know what to say about this chapter, so I'll just leave it here and hope I don't get a bunch of hate for it lol. The ending was unplanned; Killian and Emma kind of took over, so I let them. But yeah, anyway, hope you enjoy! Thank you @ultraluckycatnd for looking it over! This story was inspired by Baby Mine by Kennedy Fox, and I loved the book so much and thought it was very much underrated. I’ve wanted to write a fic like this for a long time now because it’s one of my favorite tropes, but after I read that book, I just had to write my own take. The title comes from the lyrics of the song, Lay By Me by Ruben. The particular line goes like this: "I hope you know through the rising tide That I'll be here and you can lay by my side" If you've never heard it, I recommend giving it a listen. It's an amazing song and very fitting for this story. Video by Ruben - Lay By Me P.S. In case you're unable to read the shoulder tattoo in the picture above and are wondering what it says: "There is no happiness without tears No life without death And no true love without heartbreak" Rated: Explicit for smut (including sexual fantasies, masturbation, implied and detailed sex, etc.) and language (lots of F-bombs). Also available on: AO3 FF.N Catch up: Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7

Chapter 8

Emma’s a ball of emotion as she sits in the waiting room, fidgeting impatiently in her seat after filling out all the necessary paperwork.

Noticing her uneasiness, Killian extends his hand, and she smiles timidly, slipping her free palm into his. “Everything will be alright, love,” he says sweetly, rubbing her thumb with his.

He seems almost as nervous as she is. She’s nervous for obvious reasons and also because she’s not sure if she could take any more bad news if something went wrong with this pregnancy. In fact, she knows she can’t handle any more bad news.

So she’s hoping and praying she and her baby are healthy and that there are no complications.

This is her first OB appointment since she found out she was pregnant. She’s only told Killian, Mary Margaret and David so far. Her brother wasn’t too happy and was in fact disappointed at first, but only because he thought Killian had knocked her up since he was there with her to give them the news and was just as nervous as she was. It was pretty awkward, to say the least, but once Emma cleared things up, David was elated. He can’t wait to have a niece or nephew from his sister and best friend.

Emma slapped her brother upside the head for even thinking she’d be interested in being with anyone so soon after Liam’s death. But she supposes it wasn’t impossible, for other people at least. Everyone has their own way of dealing with grief and loss. For her, on the other hand, sex had been the last thing on her mind after Liam died. Hell, she couldn’t even convince herself to laugh the first few weeks or so.

She has been feeling horny lately, if she’s being honest, but she blames it on her pregnancy. That, topped with living in the same apartment as a gorgeous, muscular hunk who has Jesus’ abs, resembles Liam and has been nothing short of sweet, supportive and loving, is a dangerous combination. And when Emma made the huge mistake of telling her sister-in-law she walked in on Killian naked and then denied she had any feelings of attraction toward him whatsoever, the woman of course knew Emma was bluffing. And this is coming from the same woman who, over a year ago, warned her to not even look at said man because of his reputation.

But maybe Mary Margaret’s opinions of him have changed because she felt sorry for Killian after he lost his brother. Or maybe she has just seen how much Killian has changed over the past couple of months, how much he takes care of Emma and has helped her get through this time, despite how broken he is. In fact, Killian is even growing on David as well; Emma can tell. But she doesn’t know if their newfound fondness for Killian is a good thing or a bad one.

While shopping, Emma had to beg her sister-in-law to drop it when she wouldn’t stop teasing her about seeing Killian’s penis and asking how big it was. For one, Emma didn’t wish to have that discussion in a mall, and two...well, she didn’t want to talk about any man’s penis, period. Especially with her sister-in-law, who is married to her brother, for crying out loud.

Emma almost died of humiliation when they were in the checkout line at Macy’s and Mary Margaret suggested (rather loudly) that if Emma was that worried about jumping her brother-in-law’s bones then she should get a vibrator. Emma’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets, her cheeks flaming as other customers in line and even some of the register clerks gave her the stink eye.

“He’s not my brother-in-law,” she muttered to Mary Margaret, burying her face in her hands. “He’s my friend.”

“Uh-huh,” Mary Margaret commented, highly unconvinced. “That’s what I said about your brother before we started dating. In fact, we hated each other at first,” she smirked. “Just like you and Killian hated each other at first.”

Yeah, yeah, I know the story, Emma thought to herself bitterly, rolling her eyes.

Her sister-in-law and brother met at Granny’s Diner, back when Mary Margaret was a server there. Back before she became a teacher. David and Liam went there for dinner one night, and it was her first day, so she was extremely nervous. As she approached the table, a small bowl of cheesy green bean casserole slipped off the tray, flipped over and landed directly in David’s lap. His crotch being scalded, he wasn’t too happy and made some rude remarks.

He returned the very next day to apologize, giving her this sappy, long-winded speech in front of all the diner guests, saying how sorry he was and hoping she would forgive him and let him buy her dinner. But only if she promised not to spill the beans again. They had a good laugh and Mary Margaret accepted his offer and apology, but they went out to dinner as just friends. Ever since that day, though, Mary Margaret has called him her cheesy Prince Charming, and David calls her his spill the beans Queen. Emma had to give her brother props for that one; it’s the most accurate description of Mary Margaret she’s ever heard of.

Once Emma’s name is called, she and Killian stand up; he’s still holding her hand as he whispers in her ear, “We can do this.”

Emma’s heart flutters, her cheeks warming as she exchanges a small smile with Killian. She loves when he refers to the two of them as we, even though she’s the one carrying this baby around. He’s completely committed to this, doing whatever he can to help her out, and she’s so grateful for that. Since they’ve become so close, she can’t even imagine doing this without him. She lightly squeezes his hand as she gives the nurse the paperwork, and they follow her into the exam room.

Emma’s stomach is full of butterflies as the nurse takes her weight, height and vitals. She asks Emma several questions, like when was her last period. It’s not really the type of conversation to have in front of Liam’s brother, but maybe living with him for almost a year is the reason she feels comfortable answering awkward, personal questions in front of him. Besides, he knew her menstrual cycle not long after she met him, considering she kept tampons in the brothers’ bathroom even before she moved in with them.

She tried to be discreet as possible at first, but once she moved in with the Jones brothers, all bets were pretty much off. Because how else would one explain having to lie on the couch in pain with a heating pad every month? Her cramps were terrible and always made her feel incredibly miserable, so that was pretty difficult to hide from two grown men she shared an apartment with. Even if she hid in the room she and Liam shared, he would come in all concerned and loving and ask if she needed anything. And she’s sure he would always mention something to his brother, because Killian would suddenly be nicer to her during her time of the month. He even joined Liam on his tampon trips to the drugstore occasionally.

Nevertheless, Killian simply smiles encouragingly and doesn’t seem to be the least bit bothered by the awkward questions and answers.

“Dr. Carmen will be with you shortly,” the nurse says once she has everything she needs.

Fifteen minutes later, the doctor enters with a file in her hand.

“There’s the happy couple! Congratulations, Mommy and Daddy,” Dr. Carmen says with a big smile, glancing between them before taking her seat on the stool.

“Oh, um,” Killian starts to say, scratching behind his ear, his cheeks tinting with blush.

“He’s actually not the father,” Emma corrects, even though it kills her to think about what happened to the father. Her chin trembles, tears springing to her eyes.

Killian quickly reaches over and grabs her hand, squeezing it gently. His touch immediately soothes her.

“I’m so sorry for assuming,” Dr. Carmen immediately apologizes. “I know better than that.”

“It’s fine,” Emma says. “The father—my fiancé—died in a motorcycle accident a couple of months ago. This is Killian, his brother,” she pauses, her vision clouding with tears as she looks at him before adding, “and my best friend.”

~*~

Killian’s heart bursts at her declaration. Her words mean more to him than she’ll ever know. Hearing her say those things while she’s on the brink of tears makes him want to cry, too. Actually, everything about this situation makes him want to break down and cry. Emma’s having his dead brother’s baby. And no matter how many times he reminds himself of this, it still hurts like a bitch. Knowing this baby won’t get to grow up knowing their father. Having to eventually tell his niece or nephew what happened to Liam. The thought makes his stomach hurt.

But he can’t think about that now. He needs to be here for Emma. He needs to be strong for Emma. He wants to be strong for her.

The doctor’s eyes soften. “I’m so sorry for both your losses.”

They thank her, and she basically asks Emma everything the nurse asked her. Since the first day of her last period was over eight weeks ago, the doctor recommends getting an ultrasound so they can get the baby’s measurements and a better estimate of Emma’s due date.

Once she’s finished, Emma and Killian are sent to another floor for the ultrasound, where a tech brings them into a darkened room and explains the entire process.

As soon as the tech tells her to lift her shirt and undo her jeans, he glances away to give her some privacy, even though she says he doesn’t have to. But he feels like every time he looks at Emma adoringly, he’s betraying his brother. Every time he has a less than innocent thought about Emma, he feels like it’s a betrayal against Liam, even though he’s never acted on his feelings. Even though Liam’s gone.

When the ultrasound tech moves the wand over Emma’s belly and the sound of a heartbeat fills the room, he takes that as his cue to look again. They watch the movements on the screen as the tech describes what they’re seeing.

“Alright, so there’s Baby’s hand, you can see the fingers. And see that little flutter there?” she asks with a smile as she points at the movement. “That’s Baby’s heartbeat.”

When Killian manages to tear his eyes from the screen to catch the expression on Emma’s face, a smile crosses her lips, her eyes watering. He grins, just witnessing the look on her face.

“We’ll zoom in and do a heart tracing to get the beats per minute.”

When a bunch of squiggly lines appear at the bottom of the screen, the tech measures the bpm.

“The heart is beating at 149, and that’s normal. Baby’s pretty active in there.”

They watch for a few minutes as the tech points out different parts of the baby’s anatomy they can see on the screen. The baby’s face, the arms, the legs, the spine, the brain. Suddenly all of this becomes very real for him. It was real before, but now he’s seeing Emma’s living baby on the screen, and his eyes sting with tears, his heart melting into a pile of goo. This baby will be so loved and cherished when they’re born. Hell, they already are.

“There’s Baby stretching,” the tech singsongs.

Emma giggles as Killian watches the tiny, precious human in awe. He can’t believe he gets to experience this with her, but at the same time, he’s sad Liam can’t be here to experience this with her.

“Baby looks good. I’m not seeing any concerns.” She watches the baby for a few more minutes before concluding, “Baby looks happy.”

Emma looks at Killian, her expression full of relief and joy. His heart flutters at the sight of her. He’s so glad the baby is doing well.

“Little Duckling is just excited to have such a wonderful woman as their mother,” he says, winking at Emma.

She blushes, a big smile blossoming across her face.

“Alright, are you ready for some pictures?” the tech asks.

Emma’s face immediately lights up. “Yes, please.”

“Let’s see if we can get a good angle. Baby is moving and dancing around in there,” she laughs, making Emma and Killian laugh too. Once the tech gets a good angle, she freezes the screen and takes screenshots. “According to the measurements, you’re eleven weeks along, which makes your estimated due date August fifteenth.”

The tech finishes up, hands Emma a towel to clean up and gives her half a dozen photos.

Once Emma’s ready to go, they ride home in his truck as she holds the photos in her hands, still amazed as she stares at them. “I can’t believe this,” she finally says. “I’m having a baby. This is unreal.”

He looks at her, offering a soft smile. “Getting scared yet?”

“I’m terrified,” she laughs and places a hand on her baby bump. “But this baby is a piece of Liam. It’s like I got a second chance to have a family, you know?”

He can tell she immediately regrets her words when she looks at him, her face clouding over with regret.

“I mean, you’re my family too, and David and Mary Margaret...but this is the family Liam and I would’ve had together if he were still here.”

“I know, love. And he’d be so happy to have this baby with you.”

She smiles and nods. “It’s like he left a piece of himself behind, so I’ll never be alone.”

Killian takes her free hand in his. “You never will be. I promise you that.”

“As long as I have you, I won’t be.”

He almost gasps for air at her words as he tries to keep his eyes on the road. He knows she doesn’t mean it in the way it sounds, but the sentiment still tugs at his heart. “I’m not going anywhere, love,” he reassures her, stroking her thumb with his.

Silence falls over them—he doesn’t want to say anything that will upset her—and they stop to get some tacos and head home. He took the morning off of work so he could go with her to the doctor’s appointment, but he decides to take the rest of the day off and calls his boss to let him know. He has a feeling Emma has a lot weighing on her mind right now and he wants to be here for her.

“So, we should probably tell your dad now,” Emma suggests once they finish eating their tacos and discard their trash. “Otherwise, he might find out on social media or something after I give my sister-in-law the go-ahead to tell people.”

“Aye, you’re right,” Killian agrees. “We can Facetime him. He should be getting home from work right now.”

“Okay, yeah, we can do that.” Emma grabs one of the ultrasound photos, Killian grabs his computer and they both huddle close on the sofa as he calls his father.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” Brennan greets once he appears on the computer screen. “How have you two been doing?”

“We’re doing okay,” Killian answers. “As good as we can be, I suppose. Right, Emma?” he asks, looking over at her.

She offers a sad smile. “Yes. Actually, I’m doing much better than the last time we spoke. How are you doing, Brennan?”

“I’m just taking it one day at a time,” he replies softly.

Emma peers down at the photo in one of her hands as she keeps it at her side so it’s not showing on the screen. “So I have some news that might cheer you up,” she says, looking up at the screen again.

Killian gives her an encouraging smile when she glances at him.

She sucks in a breath and rips off the band-aid. “I’m pregnant...with Liam’s baby,” she adds to clear up any confusion, not wanting him to make the same assumption David did. “You’re going to be a grandpa.”

Brennan’s eyes go wide, his mouth parting, and he has no words at first. “I am?” he finally chokes out, his eyes brimming with tears.

Emma nods and holds up the photo. “Meet Baby Swan-Jones.”

Brennan’s face lights up like a Christmas tree as he leans in closer to get a better look at the baby, a tear sliding down his cheek. “Oh my Gods. Congratulations, Emma!”

“Thank you,” she says with a blushing smile. “I’m so excited...and also scared to death.”

He chuckles and waves a hand. “That’s completely normal.”

She nods. “It’s a little weird since Liam isn’t here to raise the baby with me. Well, it's a lot weird,” she corrects herself.

“I can imagine, love. It’s a shame he can’t be here to experience this with you and meet his son or daughter.” He looks at Killian sternly and points a finger at him. “You’ll look after them, won’t you, son? This lovely lass is like your sister-in-law, and that baby is going to be your niece or nephew. You’ll make sure they have everything they need, right?”

Killian’s jaw twitches. He hates when people call her his sister-in-law, but it’s not far from the truth. If Liam were still alive, she would’ve been.

“Brennan, I can assure you, Killian has been a godsend.” Emma’s eyes well up with tears as she takes his hand in her free one. “I don’t even know how I would have survived the last couple of months without him.”

Killian’s lips twitch into a small smile as he looks at her. “And I have no idea what I’d do without her. I’ve already promised Emma I’ll do anything to make sure she and the little one are taken care of.” Killian wraps his arm around Emma’s shoulders and leans in, kissing her temple. “You have nothing to worry about, Papa.”

When he reverts his eyes to his father, he swallows the hard lump in his throat. His father is narrowing his eyes at him, almost as if he’s on to him. Killian has never told his father about his feelings for Emma, obviously, but there were times when Killian wondered if his father could read his thoughts.

“Well, this is good news, Emma. I’m so happy for you, and I can’t wait to meet the little prince or princess.”

“Thank you, Brennan. I can’t wait, either.” She places her hand on her belly. “And don’t worry, your grandchild will be well taken care of, I promise.”

“I have no doubts, Emma.”

After they end the call, Killian still can’t shake the feeling that his father knows he’s in love with Emma. Is it written all over his face? If it were, wouldn’t Emma see it, too?

Later on, they make dinner together. Killian can’t help but notice how domesticated it feels to cook with Emma. All of this feels surreal. Having Emma as a roommate, eating meals at the kitchen table with her, taking her to OB appointments, going grocery shopping with her. It’s almost like they’re an actual couple, even though he knows they never can be. He knows Emma will never be his; she’s Liam’s and she’ll always be Liam’s. Maybe in another life, she’d be his, but not in this one.

After dinner, they watch Friends. He’s glad Emma’s able to laugh again at the episodes, and not just her normal laugh, but full belly laughs, where a smile overtakes her entire face. She seems much happier than she did when she first found out she was pregnant. She seems excited, and her excitement is contagious. It makes him excited too. There are still some sad moments, but overall, Emma’s done her best to remain positive.

When Emma’s ready to go to bed, she gets up and takes a shower. While she’s in the bathroom, his phone pings. He receives a message from his father asking him to call him when Emma’s not around. He doesn’t plan on calling him anytime soon, though. He’s not ready to have this conversation with his father. He’s not ready to tell him he’s in love with his brother’s fiancé. Nor does he think he’ll ever be ready. He hasn’t told a single soul, and he’s not about to start.

He also notices another missed call from Milah. He’s been getting them a lot lately from her, but he ignores them and deletes her voice messages and texts before he even reads or listens to them.

He doesn’t even want to be tempted to sleep with her again or give her the wrong impression. He’s not looking for a relationship, and he’s afraid that’s what Milah wants. She’s better off being with someone who wants to give her more than he can. Someone who’s not in love with someone else.

As soon as he hears the shower running, he also hears something he never thought he’d hear again—Emma singing.

And it’s not just any song. She’s singing the same lullaby his mum used to sing to him as a baby—Baby Mine by Alison Krauss. Liam must have told her about the song, since their mother sang it to both of them.

Killian’s heart swells as he listens to Emma’s voice. She sings the song just as beautifully and softly as his mother used to sing it. He gets up from the couch and goes over to the bathroom door, pressing his ear against it so he can hear the rest of it more clearly.

Never a tear, baby of mine

If they knew sweet little you

They’d end up loving you, too

All those same people who scold you

What they’d give just for the

Right to hold you

From your head down to your toes

You’re not much, goodness knows

But you’re so precious to me

Sweet as can be, baby of mine

All of those people who scold you

What they’d give just for the

Right to hold you

From your head down to your toes

You’re not much, goodness knows

But you’re so precious to me

Sweet as can be, baby of mine

Baby of mine

He’s in tears by the time Emma finishes the song and turns off the shower. He quickly wipes his eyes, but before he has time to move from his spot, the door is being pulled open and he’s falling onto the floor.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Emma apologizes profusely and extends her hand to help him up as she secures the towel around her body with the other hand.

He flashes a small smile as he looks up at this beautiful pregnant angel standing over him. “It’s okay, love. It’s my fault.” He takes her hand, pushing himself up with his other one so he doesn’t pull her on top of himself. Not that he’d mind in ordinary circumstances, but he doesn’t want to harm the baby. “I shouldn’t have been leaning against the door.” He tries to keep his eyes focused on her face, but he’s finding it extremely difficult not to let his gaze trail down her body while she’s in only a towel.

“Were you crying?” she asks, her brows wrinkled in concern.

His cheeks heat, and he scratches behind his ear, a smile making its way across his lips. “You were singing the lullaby my mum used to sing to me.”

Emma’s cheeks flush and she looks away shyly. “Uh, yeah, sorry. Liam told me once about that song and I just thought it was appropriate to sing our baby the same song your mother sang to him.”

“Why are you apologizing? You sang like an angel.”

Her eyes snap to his, the slits of her lids narrowing. “I thought you hated my singing.”

He shrugs and gives into a “you caught me,” smile. “That’s what I wanted you to believe. Do you think if I liked your singing, I would’ve told you before? And if I had, would you really have believed me?”

“No, I suppose not,” she admits, placing a hand on her hip.

Killian steps closer and caresses her cheek. “Well, see?” He wants to tell her how he really feels, how in love with her he is and how in love with her he was back then, too, but he knows it wouldn’t be appropriate. It’s just better to keep that to himself. “But now I’m serious. You have a lovely voice,” he murmurs sincerely.

“Thanks,” she says with a shy smile, her eyes flickering over his face.

They stand there for a moment, and he thinks Emma might kiss him, but he knows that’s all in his head. Nevertheless, he so desperately wants to pull her into his arms and kiss the bloody hell out of her, but he knows that would just end badly. Either she would push him away and hate him, or he would hate himself. Either outcome would be bad.

His heart skitters as she turns around and walks away. He can still smell her shampoo after she leaves the bathroom.

He follows Emma to her room to make sure she doesn’t need anything. Gods, he’s so whipped by her, and he doesn’t even care. “Do you need anything, love?”

“No, you’ve already done enough for me.” She goes over to her dresser and pulls out a t-shirt.

He cocks a brow and comes up behind her when he sees what shirt it is. “Excuse me, love, but isn’t that mine?”

She turns around, a guilty smile playing along her lips. “Okay, yes it is. But I don’t like the way some of my night tops fit now, and I tried to wear one of Liam’s shirts…” her voice cracks, so she pauses for a second before continuing, “but once I smelled him on the fabric, I broke down crying. I just couldn’t do it. And I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before stealing one of your shirts, but—”

“It’s fine,” he says with a sad smile. “Anytime you want to borrow something of mine, you can.”

Her eyes light up. “Really?”

He doesn’t think it’s a big deal, but he’s noticed she seems to greatly appreciate even the smallest of gestures he offers her. “Aye.”

“Oh, thank you, Killian. You’re the best!” She throws her arms around him, surprising the bloody hell out of him.

He chuckles and winds his arms around her, appreciating her sweet, fruity scent and how incredible her body feels against his as he rubs her back. He holds her tight, not wanting to let her go. He wants to hold her forever like this, even if it kills him. “It’s not a problem.”

When they break the hug, he turns around and notices the pillow he got her is on the bed. “Do you like your pillow, love?”

“Yes, it’s very comfortable and helps me sleep at night. Thank you.”

He grins and kisses her forehead. “Good, I’m glad.” He pulls away, afraid if he doesn’t, he’ll end up kissing her lips as well. “I’ll let you get some rest, love.” He exhales a shaky breath and heads for the door.

“Killian?”

He immediately stops in his tracks and turns around to look at her. “Yes, love?”

“Would you mind staying here with me tonight?”

He mulls over her a question for a moment, remembering what happened the last time he slept in the same bed with her. “I’m not opposed to the idea, love, but aren’t you afraid of the same thing happening as last time?”

She furrows her brows, trying to remember what happened. He almost feels offended when he thinks she doesn’t. Then her eyes widen. “Oh, you mean when you woke up with a—”

“A good morning boner?” he finishes for her. “Precisely.”

She waves off his concern. “Oh, please, I know it’s a normal thing. Do you know how many times I woke up with Liam’s good morning boner pressed against my—” She stops herself, her cheeks flushed when she reads his expression. She must sense he doesn’t wish for her to finish that sentence. Which he doesn’t. But not for the reason she thinks. “I’m just going to stop myself right there.”

“I appreciate that. Thanks,” he says, forcing a tight smile. “I’ll stay here with you if we have the body pillow between us,” he suggests. He’s already in the deep end, but he’s afraid if he gets too comfortable being so close to her, he might cross a line he’s not supposed to.

“Okay, deal,” she agrees, a small smile tipping her lips. “I just hate sleeping alone now. Liam and I never went one night apart since we started dating. Well, ever since we started sleeping together, that is.”

Killian puts up his hand to keep her from adding anything to that. “I’m quite aware of that night,” he groans in complaint. “I heard everything.”

Her expression clouds over with apology. “Sorry.”

He smiles reassuringly. “Don’t be. Liam made you happy, and I know you made him extremely happy. You very much deserved each other. And I mean that in a good way.”

“Thank you, Killian.”

He chuckles. “Stop thanking me and get dressed.” He scrunches up his nose when he realizes what he said. “I never thought I’d be telling a woman to put clothes on.”

She laughs. “I never thought you’d be doing half the things you’ve done since we became friends.”

“Touché, love. I’ll let you get dressed.” He goes to his room, grabs a pair of pajama pants and changes into them before removing his shirt. He gets too hot at night, which is why he normally prefers to sleep naked. But he obviously can’t do that tonight. He goes to the bathroom, where Emma is wearing only his t-shirt as she brushes her teeth.

Bloody hell.

If she’s wearing shorts underneath, he can’t see them. The shirt is big enough to cover everything—she’s practically drowning in the damn thing—and it fits her like a nightgown, but damn, she looks good. She looks much better than he does in it; that’s for sure.

Emma moves over so he can brush his teeth, too.

Killian gives her a once over as he grabs his toothbrush from the holder and then gestures down her form with it. “Love, if we’re going to be sleeping together on a regular basis, we’re both going to have to wear more clothes than usual.”

She furrows her brows as he squeezes toothpaste onto the brush and starts scrubbing his teeth. In the mirror, he can see her eyes moving up and down his body, making his cheeks heat. “So, why can’t you?” she mumbles around her toothbrush.

“I am. I normally sleep naked.”

Her face reddens. “Oh.” She takes out her toothbrush and spits the toothpaste into the sink. “Well, I’m pregnant. You know the phrase, bun in the oven? It’s more accurate than you think. My belly feels like a fucking oven.”

“I believe you, love.” He chuckles and takes a few strands of his chest hair between his fingers. “This hair right here—it may look sexy but it’s like sleeping with a wool blanket.”

She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Guess we should stay as far away as possible in bed, so we don’t overheat each other.”

Her suggestion is rather ironic, considering his face is overheating, along with other parts of him.

She rinses off her toothbrush and replaces it in the holder. When she passes him, she places her hand on his abs and says, “See you in bed.” His stomach tightens under her touch. She turns around in the doorway. “I never thought I’d be saying that to you,” she quips with a laugh.

He’s glad he can’t reply to that, coherently at least, considering he has his toothbrush in his mouth. She’s gone before he can respond, anyway.

He’s still feeling the effects of her touch after she leaves the room. His heart is dancing, and his stomach is doing somersaults as he spits out his toothpaste and rinses off the toothbrush.

Fuck.

Sleeping with Emma again, as amazing as it was last time, is definitely not a good idea. Regardless, he’s entering her room and closing the door behind him before he slips into bed next to her. She hugs the body pillow around her as they both lie on their side, facing each other. He curses himself for getting her that pillow; he curses himself for suggesting it be in the middle.

They lie there, staring at each other in the darkness, the soft moonlight shining through the window, aiding their vision.

“Thank you for going with me today,” she says, breaking the thick silence between them. “It means a lot to me.”

“I was happy to, love,” he assures with a smile, his voice husky.

“I mean it. I don’t think I could’ve gotten through it without having a mental breakdown if you weren’t there to keep me sane.” Emma lifts her head from the pillow and leans in, kissing his cheek and whispering another thank you.

Bloody hell. This was definitely not a good idea.

“I told you to stop thanking me,” he teases with a smile, using all the self-control he has to not throw that damn pillow across the room so he can be closer to her.

They stare at each other for a few more beats.

Apparently, she’s thinking the same thing he is, because she’s pushing the pillow off the bed and scooting toward him. “To hell with the pillow. I can use it when I’m further along.” She wraps her arm around him, and he instinctively pulls her closer, allowing her to nestle her face in his chest hair.

He hopes she can’t hear his heart beating wildly, but who’s he kidding? He can feel it beating against her cheek as he strokes her hair.

“I don’t think your chest hair is too hot,” she murmurs against him, making his chest tingle.

He peers down at her. “You don't?”

She shakes her head and runs her fingers through his hair, stroking him.

His dick responds to her touch and grows hard in his pajama pants, even though her hand is nowhere near his manhood. And his willpower is being greatly tested. He's never had to restrain himself this much in his entire life.

He knows he should pull away and run back to his room, but her touch feels so damn good. Too good, in fact. All the more reason to run away.

“No. It’s comforting, actually. Liam had chest hair, and I loved using his chest as a pillow. So warm and soft.” She removes her hand and nuzzles her face closer against his chest, her breath fanning through his hair.

His heart fucking plummets. He knows she didn’t mean to, but her words just gutted him. He swallows hard, wondering if Emma thinks of him as Liam’s replacement.

Is she using him because he reminds her of Liam and the way he made her feel? Is she using him to lessen the pain clenched around her heart? Does she pretend Killian is his brother—the love of her life—when she's in his arms? Is that why she's allowing him to be this close to her?

The thoughts pain him, but on the other hand, he doesn’t give a fuck. Instead, he takes advantage of it. He wraps his arms around her, holding her impossibly close as he buries his face in her hair, soaking up her scent and appreciating how incredible she feels in his arms.

He wants her so goddamn much; it fucking hurts.

It feels like Emma wants him too, because she's moving her hand to his stomach, her fingers tracing his abs. But he knows this is only an illusion. Not her touch. No, her touch is real. But he knows her feelings aren't. She doesn't want him, she only wants her Liam back. She wants Killian to fill the empty void his brother left behind.

When she lifts her head from his chest, their eyes are locked in a heated gaze as her fingers glide up his arm and then down his chest to his stomach again. He responds by slipping his hand under her shirt—his shirt, rather—and running his hand up her body. Her hips, her swollen belly, her ribs, her plump breasts. She doesn't even attempt to stop him, only bites her bottom lip and arches her body slightly into his touch. He can hear her ragged breaths and feel her heart pound underneath his palm as he fondles and strokes her breasts.

There are no words exchanged or lips involved as they feel each other up and down, like two horny teenagers exploring someone else's body parts for the first time. There's only touching and caressing each other to their hearts' desire.

Well, not completely.

His heart desires so much more. He wants to kiss every inch of her, lick her pussy, then make love to her and be buried deep inside her all night long. His self-control almost snaps when his thumb flicks over her nipple, making the soft flesh harden in his hand. He has to ignore the voice in his head telling him how wrong this is. It feels right, though.

And so...damn...good.

He sucks in a deep breath, lets it out slowly and shakily as he allows his body to react to hers, lets her use him to her disposal, lets himself give in to the warmth and affection she offers, even if it's nowhere near enough. And when they're done, they just hold each other, catching their breaths, hearts slamming as they become entangled in each other.

As incredible as it was to feel Emma's soft, supple skin underneath his fingertips and make her feel good, he wants so much more. And not just physically. He wants her to look at him and see more than just the resemblance to his brother.

But if it makes Emma happy to imagine he’s Liam, then he’ll do it.

He’ll be her Liam.

Because he knows he can never be her Killian.

And he’d rather be her something than her nothing at all.

@itsfabianadocarmo​​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​​ @snowbellewells​​​ @onceuponaprincessworld​​​ @tiganasummertree​​@viajandosinalas​​ @teamhook​​​ @captainswan-shipper88​​​ @jamif​​​ @katielovesstarcrossedlovers​​​ @uhthreeyuh @lfh1226-linda​​​ @babyyouremyqueen​​​ @sthonour​​​ @julesep3026​​​ @fairytalewhispersinmyheart​​​ @andiirivera​​​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​​​ @wickedsw4n​​​ @eleveneitherway​​​ @eherron14 @ouatpost​​​ @transparentclodsludgeweasel​ @stahlop

If you would like to be tagged or untagged, please let me know!

[vanillatwilight17]

A New Beginning (Chapter 7)

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N: Thank you for all the awesome reviews I got on the last chapter. Special shout out to kmomof4 for her amazing reviews of the whole story! It's Christmas in July for this chapter! I hope you enjoy and please review to let me know what you think!

Chapter 7: The Most Magical Time of the Year

Christmastime was in the air in Storybrooke, Main and it seemed like everyone was floating around on clouds completely immersed in the holiday spirit. At seven months pregnant Emma was now fairly large in the stomach area and tired very easily and perhaps as much as Killian wanted her to she hadn't let it slow her down any. They had just this morning resolved the issue of when she was going to stop working.

"You said you were going to take some time during Henry's school break to spend with him before the baby comes right?" Killian had asked that morning after they had gotten into the station and were getting their day started.

"Yea…" Emma said wondering where this was going.

"Well I was thinking that maybe you should let that be the start of your maternity leave as well."

"Huh? Did you get into the rum last night while I was sleeping?" Emma asked him. David put down the file folder he was looking over and relaxed back in his chair.

"This is going to be good." He said.

"You stay out of this!" Emma said pointing her finger at him causing David to throw his hands up.

"Well you were going to need to stop work eventually right?"

"Yea but not with two months still to go before the baby is born! What am I supposed to do for two months? Sit home and knit?" Emma asked frustrated at her husband.

"You know how to knit?" Killian asked.

"Figure of speech!" David whispered to his son in law causing Emma to shoot him a death glare.

"Killian, I'm pregnant not sick or handicapped. I'm not going to break so stop treating me like a piece of glass."

"You are my one true love and you are carrying my child! Damn right I'm going to do everything to protect you both now and for always! I know you aren't going to break but you need to slow down a little! As the due date gets closer I think we just need to start planning a little for these things you know?" Killian said.

"Dad!" Emma said turning to David.

"I thought you wanted me to stay out of it?"

"Well now I want you in it. He's saying nice things and making me want to cave." Killian let out his famous pirates grin on that one.

"I think…you two should compromise." David said.

"What a copout answer you are supposed to take my side!" Emma said.

"I had this same argument with your mother around this time when she was pregnant with you and your brother. I agree with both of you. Emma you need to start slowing down a bit, I know you may feel like you can still go one hundred miles per hour but the more this pregnancy progresses your body is going to be more susceptible to stress. You were born a week early because of it. Killian, I understand you completely as I have been in your shoes, with every day you are going to worry abut them more and more but believe me when I say she's not going to break." David said.

"Fine, how about this? When I come back from time off with Henry I will be strictly on desk duty and then once February rolls around and we are in the home stretch I'll take it on a day to day basis." Emma said.

"Second week of February you go on maternity leave an take the time at home to prepare for the baby." Killian said. The two had a stare down and David found his eyes going back and forth like watching a tennis match.

"Fine." Emma said returning to her work and Killian got up and went over to her and gave her a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you love! I love you more than anything you know that?" Killian said.

"I wouldn't push it mister." Emma said.

"Right, then, back to work I go." He said walking back to his desk.

"Killian,"

"Yes?"

"I love you too." Emma said smiling at her husband who returned the gesture.

"Ok there are way too many of us, if we give presents to everybody we are all gonna be in the poorhouse." Regina said as she, Emma, Snow, Zelena, and Belle planned for their big holiday get together one evening at Snow's house.

"Agreed. So how do we want to handle this?" Snow said.

"We could do Secret Santa." Emma said.

"What is Secret Santa?" Zelena asked.

"So typically there is a hat or a bag and everyone who is going to be in the gift exchange puts their name in and you take turns drawing names and whosever name you get you buy a gift for that person. Everyone gets a gift but it saves a you a lot of money." Emma said.

"I love that idea!" Belle said.

"Agreed!" Snow said and the others nodded their heads.

"Ok there are basic rules to it, like you can't get your own name, you can't say who you have because then it's not a secret anymore and once one person says who they have it becomes this domino effect of process of elimination of who has who and the fun is gone."

"I say a fifty dollar limit on the gift. Anyone object?" Regina offered and everyone agreed.

"What about the kids?" Snow asked.

"I say the kids are fair game, I feel like Henry will want to participate though so we can put his name in and let him pick. In immediate family's what you choose to do for actual Christmas Day is up to you. I was planning on getting Killian and my parents something for instance and obviously "Santa" is coming to see Henry." Emma said.

"Aww Henry still believes in Santa?" Belle asked.

"If it's out there, Henry believes in it. I think he knows the truth but I enjoy that he still goes along with it." Emma said.

"Soon you will have another a little one at Christmas and that is the best!" Snow said rubbing her daughter's belly.

"Ok so when we pull names, you can't get yourself, you can't get anyone in your immediate family, and you can't say who you got." Zelena offered as official rules and everyone agreed. They met everyone at Granny's that evening and names were pulled to yield the following results. It was decided that since Red was off with Dorothy in Oz Granny would be invited to their family get together. After several times needing to redraw everyone ended up with a Secret Santa. Everyone also got a good laugh out of people's reactions to who they got.

Emma = Regina "Ok that's not so bad!"

Killian = Granny "Oh bloody hell!"

David = Zelena "This will be…interesting."

Snow = Belle "Oh that's easy!"

Henry = Gold "Probably good I got this one."

Regina = Snow "I would pull that one."

Zelena = Henry "Thank God!"

Belle = David "How exciting!"

Gold = Emma "Why me?"

Granny = Killian "Well this will be cheap and easy, got the perfect present in the back!"

"I give it two days until everyone knows who has who." Granny said.

"What's the fun in that? Everyone keep your secret! We will exchange gifts and have dinner Christmas Eve at my house!" Snow said.

"We're going to be spending the night afterwards as well." Emma said.

"Really?" David asked excitedly.

"Yea, we talked about it a few days ago. That way we can just be there for Christmas morning and stuff." Emma said.

"Do you want me to take you over there after you open your presents?" Regina asked Henry.

"Actually I was just going to stay there with them and then come to your house later, unless that's not ok." Henry asked. Emma silently kicked herself, she should have talked to Regina first before she made these plans.

"Oh…that's fine. Just let me know when you are headed over." Regina said smiling but obviously a bit crushed at not being with her son first thing Christmas morning.

Later that evening Emma sat down in front of Killian who was reading a pregnancy book on the couch.

"Ok so I got Regina." Emma said.

"I think you missed the point of Secret Santa love." Killian said putting down the book.

"No I'm telling you because I need to talk to you about what I want to give her because it involves you too." Emma said as Killian grabbed her feet and started giving her a foot massage.

"Now I'm frightened." He said.

"I wanted to ask her, if it's alright with you that is, to be the baby's godmother." Emma said.

"The irony of the Evil Queen being godmother to Snow White's grandchild is beyond anything imaginable." Killian said.

"I'm aware of that but besides you and my parents she is my best friend." Emma said.

"I feel like there is more to it then that. I saw the face you made when Henry announced his plans for Christmas morning earlier."

"Ever since I came back into his life and the first curse broke Henry has drifted more towards us and while he and Regina have a great relationship I can tell she misses him and the days she had him to herself terribly."

"Henry isn't a child anymore love, he makes his own decision about where he wants to spend his time. Albeit when he started calling me dad I could tell it bothered her a bit." Killian said.

"Now that there is a new baby coming, one that is going to be his sibling none the less I feel like he will gravitate this way more and more. So I want her to have a special role in the baby's life and feel included. She spent so much time shut out from the family…"

"Her own doing…"Killian reminded her.

"Agreed by her own doing but she's done the hardest thing anyone can do, you should know this, she changed. So what do you think?"

"I think…it is a great idea." Killian said smiling. "How do you plan to give it in a gift though?"

"I was thinking something similar to how I told you about little one here," Emma said placing her hand on her stomach.

"Regina doesn't strike me as the pocket watch type." He said laughing.

"I was thinking more like a locket or something." Emma said swatting at his leg.

"Sounds good to me love." Killian said leaning over to kiss his wife on the lips.

Soon enough presents were bought and wrapped and it was Christmas Eve. When Emma and Killian walked into Snow's house that afternoon they found her mother and Granny hard at work in the kitchen.

"Hey Mom! We're here! Need any help?" Emma said as they walked into the kitchen.

"Hi Sweetie!" Her mom yelled back. "No I think we got this covered you just relax. Where is Henry?" Snow asked as Emma walked over to hug her mother.

"He was with Regina last night so I could wrap all his presents so she's bringing him with them. Spoiled turd!" Emma said.

"That's what kids are for!" Granny said and David and Neal came in the kitchen.

"Emmy, Emmy!" Neal said running to his sister as Emma bent down to pick him up.

"Hey buddy!" Emma said giving her brother a hug.

"Is Santa coming tonight?" She asked him.

"Yes!" He said excited. "Baby come?" He asked pointing to her stomach.

"No, baby isn't coming yet, soon though. It's getting hard for me to hold you right now Bud," Emma said and Killian reached over to take him from her.

"Killy!" The little boy said.

"Were you a good little lad this year?" he asked him

"Yes!" Neal answered.

"Good, because Santa only brings toys to good lads!" Killian said.

"I good lad!" Neal announced causing everyone to laugh.

"That's good. David could you help me bring these presents in from the car. We need to stash some down in the basement so this guy and the one coming later don't see them until tomorrow." Killian said.

"Sure thing!" David said.

The evening progressed and people started to arrive and the tree became almost hidden behind all the presents. Dinner was incredible and after everyone had finished eating the kids declared it was time to open presents. They let the kids open their gifts first since they couldn't wait any longer. Soon Robin, Neal, and Gideon had so many new toys they didn't know what to do with themselves.

"And Santa hasn't even come yet!" Belle said looking at how loved all the children were. Henry got gifts from his grandfather and Granny as well but was told he would have to wait until tomorrow for his other gifts. Gold gave Henry an orb that would change color depending on the weather, his mood, moods of other's around him.

"That better be all that thing does Gold." Regina and Emma said not trusting the Dark One.

"I'd never hurt my grandson ladies, don't worry!" Gold said. After the kids opened their presents it was time for Secret Santa. Killian and Granny laughed that they had each other. Killian had gotten Granny a new set of pots and pans as hers were getting old and rusted and she had given him a bottle of rum and a monogramed flask.

"You know me so well Granny." Killian said. David got Zelena tickets to go see Wicked on Broadway and he was surpised to find she loved the idea.

"I've been dying to see how those bastards depict me this time."

"You're actually a good guy, Mom took to me see that play a while back." Henry said and the gifts continued to be exchanged.

"It appears it's my turn." Gold said getting up to grab his gift.

"Mrs. Jones." He said handing the wrapped present to Emma.

"Oh God." Emma said not sure how to feel.

"Relax, it's nothing magical. It's more…sentimental. Something I found lying around my shop that I believe once belonged to you, that I thought you might want for your child." Gold said. Emma unwrapped the box and opened it to find a glass unicorn mobile inside causing Snow to instantly burst into tears.

"Oh Emma that's the mobile from your nursery!" She said. Emma looked down at the gift and felt speechless.

"Gold I don't know what to say…thank you." She said. Perhaps the man really did have a heart in there somewhere after all.

"It seemed only right you should have it." He said as Belle put her arm around him and smiled. The person to give her gift was Emma who reached over and grabbed a small box and handed it to Regina.

"Saved the best for last!" Emma said nervous at Regina's reaction to her gift as she opened the box to reveal a locket.

"Thank you Emma it's beautiful." Regina said.

"Open it." Emma urged. On one side of the locket was a picture of Regina and Henry and underneath inscribed the word 'mother.' On the other side was a picture of the baby from the 3D ultrasound they did with the word 'godmother' inscribed underneath.

"Emma…"Regina said looking from Emma to Killian.

"Regina, you have been a huge pain in the ass but you have also always been there for me when I needed you. You are my best friend and an incredible mother to Henry and it would be our honor if you would be our baby's godmother." Emma said. She barely got the words out before Regina was across the room with her arms wrapped around her.

"Of course! I would love to be the baby's godmother! You have no idea what this means to me. Thank you guys so much!" She said then turning to hug Killian.

At the end of the evening everyone had gone home except Emma, Killian, and Henry. Cookies were put out for Santa and everyone sat down so David could read The Night Before Christmas before everyone went to bed. The next morning there were even more presents than the night before surrounding the tree and Henry and Neal were anxious to get started unwrapping.

"Hold on guys, let me get the camera!" Snow said before they started. Killian had gotten Emma a beautiful necklace with a heart that had two stones in it, an aquamarine for March when Henry was born and an Amethyst for February when their baby would be born. She had gotten him a new ring with the same two stones in it and they laughed at how similar their minds worked. Henry was thrilled when he opened his new Nintendo Switch.

"Thank you guys!" He said running over to hug his parents.

"You're welcome kid!" Emma said hugging him back. "Ok guys hold on, I have a special gift for you!" She said to her parents and she went and grabbed a box. This is something I have been working on for awhile now and I finally got it done!" She said handing them the box.

"It's for both of us?" Snow asked and Emma nodded and Killian put his arm around his wife knowing what the gift was.

"How long before she cries?" He asked.

"Second page max," Emma said and her parents opened the box to find a scrapbook.

"So I don't have a lot of stuff but this is everything I held on to or was given by my foster parents or the system when I aged out." Emma said. It was a scrapbook detailing in pictures, art work, school work, etc. her childhood. Snow didn't even make it to the second page before she was absolutely in tears.

"Emma you have no idea what this means to your father and I to have this. We missed so much with you and now we have a glimpse into your childhood and a chance to have some of those memories back. I promise that we will be here for you from this moment until our last days. You are an incredible mother to Henry and this new baby is going to be so lucky to call you Mommy." Snow said hugging her daughter. Emma looked over to see her father also in tears looking at pictures of his baby girl.

"Come here Daddy," She said and he came over and kissed the top of her head holding her close to him.

"I love you Em," He said.

"I love you too Daddy." She said back.

After they had dropped Henry off at Regina's and carted all their stuff inside Emma and Killian sat down together for a few quiet moments.

"Merry Christmas love," He said to her, kissing her softly.

"Merry Christmas Killian."

"Merry Christmas baby." They both said to her stomach where their hands entwined.

"Next Christmas we will have an almost one year old." Emma said.

"That's hard to even wrap my head around at the moment." Killian said.

"I know I can't even grasp that soon the baby will be here let alone what our lives will look like in a year," Emma said. "I have one more present for you though." She pulled out a small box she had been stashing. Inside was a small ornament for the tree that showed a man, woman, and boy, the woman with a swollen belly and man with his arms around her, that said: Killian, Emma, and Henry on the top then Jones Family Christmas 2017.

"I figured every year we could get a special ornament like this and it could be like a milestone for the year." Emma said.

"I love it Emma. However, you have already given me the greatest gift of all in the form of you, Henry, and this little one right here." Killian said and he leaned in to kiss her one more time and they relaxed on the couch, watching the fire in the fireplace enjoying some of their last few moments together before the baby arrived.

"Merry Christmas to all." Emma said.

"And to all a good night." Killian said back.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed. The baby will be here in either the next chapter or the chapter after that at the latest I haven't totally decided yet. Any guess on boy or girl? Please review and let me know what you think!

[flslp87]

A Family Addition for Captain Swan 

Having a baby can bring every emotion from exhilaration to terror.  Come along on the journey with Emma and Killian as they experience all the emotions that creating a new life can elicit.  Chapter 1- Pregnant -Emma’s POV - here, Chapter 2 - Pregnant - Killian’s POV - here, Chapter 3 - First Doctor’s Visit - Emma’s POV - here, Chapter 4 -First Doctor’s Visit- Killian’s POV - here, Chapter 5 -Heartbeat - Emma’s POV - here, Chapter 6 - Heartbeat - Killian’s POV - here ; Chapter 7 - First Movement - here; Chapter 8 - Ultrasound - here;   Chapter 9 - Cravings - here; Chapter 10 - Delivery - here.      

It can also be found on FF as well as on AO3.  

Thanks to @duathadun for her excellent wall work and for @hellomommanerd correcting all my mistakes.  

Chapter 3 - First Doctor’s Visit - Emma’s POV          

Rated - K   Words - ~5K

Once the secret was out, Emma felt that her life became easier, yet more difficult at the same time. She couldn't go anywhere or do anything without feeling like at least a dozen pairs of eyes were watching her every move.  She had even accused Killian of asking the entire town to spy on her, to which he had responded, "Why love, would I ever do something like that?” with his oh so innocent face.  She was pretty sure he was guilty, she just couldn't prove it.  

And nowhere did she feel like it was more so than when she stepped into Granny's for her morning cup of hot chocolate.   Leaning against the counter, she waited for her order which seemed to be the weekly remedy to soothing her stomach and felt the eyes of everyone on her.  She wasn't sure what they were waiting for but wondered if possibly they were watching to see if her stomach suddenly grew like the last few pregnancies in Storybrooke.  Thankfully, a protection spell would keep that from happening.  Taking her "to-go" cup and unconsciously gently rubbing her stomach she exited Granny's under the watchful eyes of at least five of the dwarves.  

Running into Archie on her way to the station and being questioned on her choice of drink added to the aggravation of the day, so much so that by the time she got to work she was spoiling for an argument.  Her guilt for running out of the house this morning without saying goodbye, combined with her frustration from what felt like constant staring from the good citizens of Storybrooke and then mixed with her volatile emotions created a dam threatening to burst.  For the sake of everything she held dear, she really hoped this would be one morning her father decided to come in late, as time alone sounded heavenly. 

Of course, that couldn't happen either, for as she opened the door, she walked into the room just as she heard her dad say, "Thanks for the head's up, Killian.  I'll let you know when she arrives." When he saw her and realized he was caught a sheepish look crossed his face as he quickly hung up. 

"Good morning, honey." He came closer as if to embrace her, "How are you today?"

"Really, Dad," she answered him, an edge already making its way into her voice.  "I caught you on the phone with my husband, who apparently was tattling on me, and you ask how I am?" Continuing to walk on into her office she dropped her bag on the floor and set the hot cup on her desk, before turning back to her father. "Why don't you tell me how I am?" 

"Now Emma," he began, "don't be like that."

Knowing she was being just a little bit irrational but unable to stop the words from exploding out of her mouth, "Don't be like that?" she asked him, before shouting, "Don't be like that?  How am I supposed to be?  Tell me and then I'll know." She could feel the anger disappearing to be replaced by frustration, which more often than not brought tears, "You try feeling like you're going to throw up every time you see food but then the next minute you want to eat everything in sight.  Or how about that parts of your body no longer feel like your own." She stopped and clenched her hands together, before continuing, "or how you can go from so happy you want to shout it to the world to being so scared you're going to screw up that you want to scream and cry for hours." 

The tears, as if they had been waiting for permission, started to fall.  David took a step toward her as if to take her in his arms, but she held up a hand to stop him and, brushing past, ran into the bathroom and collapsed into a chair.  Leaning her head back on the cushion, she took a couple deep breaths hoping that she would be able to keep down her breakfast, but the roller coaster of emotions brought waves to her stomach, and falling in front of the commode, what had gone down so nicely all came back up.

After rinsing her mouth and cleaning her face, she sat sideways in the chair and curled up into as tight of a ball as possible and leaned her head against the back of the chair.  Letting her mind drift she thought back to her morning at home and how both Killian and Henry's behavior had served to set her off but now she would give anything for her husband to be here holding her and telling her that things were going to be alright. 

Emma came awake slowly and, not moving, waited to see what baby had in store for her today.   Feeling nothing but hunger, she stayed absolutely still laying her hands on her stomach.  “Good morning, baby,” she whispered to the empty room.  After everything that had happened in her life she couldn’t quite believe that the miracles just kept coming.  She had found Henry, her parents and a man who loved her completely, and now she had their baby growing inside of her. The tears, a common occurrence these days, filled her eyes, spilling over to run down her cheeks. But knowing that her husband would be up checking on her if she didn’t show up for breakfast soon, she threw off the blanket, showered and made her way downstairs where Killian and Henry were talking softly.  "Good morning, you two." 

"Morning, Mom," Henry said quietly before taking another bite of food. 

Killian was standing in front of the stove looking both adorable and ridiculous as he had a pink kitchen towel tucked into the waistband of his pants, was holding a metal spatula in his right hand and had his hook 'hooked' in the handle of a skillet frying bacon. "Good morning, love. Shall I make you two or three of these little strips of pig fat?"

The smell starting to get to her, Emma was tempted to leave the room but he looked so proud of his accomplishment she couldn't make herself leave, "No, you eat the bacon.  I bought an extra bearclaw yesterday that sounds really good right now.  I'm even going to add a little peanut butter to it."  She busied herself placing the bearclaw on a small plate and reached into the pantry for the peanut butter, however when she opened it, the jar was empty! Looking around at the other occupants of the room, by the look on Henry's face, she knew immediately who had put the empty container away, even knowing it was empty, "Seriously?!"  Slamming the empty jar down on the table she pointed her finger at him, "HOW MANY TIMES DO YOU HAVE TO BE TOLD TO TAKE CARE OF THE EMPTY CONTAINERS?" Her voice rising in decibel level with each word.  

Henry didn't say anything just looked at her as if she had sprouted three heads like Cerberus. 

Trying to be the peacemaker, Killian moved toward the table, a plate of steaming food in his hand, "Swan, now take it easy. It's not good for you to get worked up.  Here, have some eggs." He set the offering on the table. 

Emma looked at the pile of runny eggs on the plate, and then up into the concerned face of her husband, "I don't want eggs!  Didn't you hear what I said? I want my bearclaw and I wanted peanut butter, but NO!" Her voice sounded shrill even to her ears.

Deciding she needed to get out of a kitchen that smelled like greasy bacon, after picking up the bag that had held her bearclaw, she shoved said pastry back inside and without saying anything to either male, stormed out of the house. Nibbling on the pastry as she drove, she parked and after finishing eating walked into Granny's.  

------

Hearing the door to the bathroom open, Emma looked up, expecting to see her father walking in, and so was very surprised when in walked her mother and she was pushing a rolling office chair.  "Dad tattle on me," she wrinkled her nose at herself, "or is it that he is tired of dealing with me?"

Snow smiled that maternal smile that said she knew exactly where that question had come from. "He said he thought you needed your mother.” She paused to catch her breath, “How can I help, honey?"

Emma looked at her mom sitting there so calmly, "Oh, Mom, I feel as if an alien has taken over my body.  Is that normal?  With Henry things were so different -I was so different.  I must have blocked out the feelings to block out the pain. I find that I don't remember much about that pregnancy."

Moving her chair as closely as possible to the one Emma was sitting in, Snow pulled her daughter snug against her side, "Everything you are feeling is perfectly normal.  Creating a tiny human is hard work and for the next few weeks, your emotions will feel like they belong to someone else. "

Emma leaned her head against her mom's shoulder, "I hate feeling like this." 

"I know, I did too, but the outcome will be worth it." Snow took a deep breath before going into fragile territory. "What happened, or do you even know?" 

Emma laughed, "You're telling me that you have experience with snarling at dad and aren't really sure why?" 

Snow's laughter joined Emma's at the memories that their talk was uncovering. "Well, I'm sure I had a reason - at the time..." She rolled her eyes and her voice drifted off as if she were thinking back.

"I'm glad you're here, Mom." 

"Oh, Emma," Snow sighed, "I'm glad I'm here too. Now, why don't you tell me what happened." 

Twisting her fingers together, Emma told Snow about what had happened at home and how she had stormed out of the house. Telling the story helped her see the situation a bit clearer and realize that her hormones were causing her to take situations that normally would not be a big deal, and make them a big deal. "I feel bad for the way I left. I guess I should go call Killian and tell him I'm sorry." 

Snow hummed her approval. "Somehow I think he knows that your behavior was not the real you and will forgive you." She moved her chair so she was facing her. "And what else happened Emma?  Your father said you had a cup from Granny's." 

"I just feel that everywhere I go, I'm being watched.  I even accused Killian of setting it all into motion." 

Snow looked at Emma, a contemplative expression on her face, "Let me just say this," she lowered her voice conspiratorially, "Your father set it up so I thought I was pulling Excalibur out of a stone to boost my confidence.  Killian and your father have developed quite the relationship so I wouldn't put it past either one of them." 

Emma rolled her eyes, "So what you're saying is there's no escaping it?"  

Snow squeezed Emma's hand and stood up, "You're getting the idea.  Are you finally feeling better?  You're starting to get a little color back in your cheeks." 

"I am and should probably get something in my stomach since my bearclaw didn't stay down." 

"Just remember light on the sugar and grease until the nausea has lessened." She started pushing the chair she brought in toward the door and just as she reached for the handle stopped and turned back. "Emma, look inside yourself.  Don't let your past experiences get in the way of your future happiness.” 

Emma immediately felt her defenses rise, "What do you mean by that?" She asked her mother hesitantly, as if fearful of the answer.

"Don't you think I was scared when I was pregnant with Neal? Scared that someone would take away my happiness, again?”

Emma could see the understanding in her mother's eyes, even from across the room. "I know you were, Mom, I was there." 

"And Emma," she said to her in a gentle tone, "with the help of our family, everything worked out fine. Trust yours."

Knowing her mother could read her made her feel better, "I promise to try harder. I know I'm not being fair to anyone, especially Killian."

"That's all anyone can ask." She opened the door and pushed the chair out, "Take your time honey. I'll see you later." 

"Thanks, Mom."  She watched her mother leave the room before brushing her teeth and splashing cool water on her face.  As she was drying her face, she heard the door open again and without opening her eyes said, "I thought you were going to wait outside for me." 

"Well love, if I waited outside, I couldn't do this."

Before he had even started speaking she smelled his unique scent and had opened her eyes so that when he put his hand around her and forcefully pulled her to him, covering her lips with his, she was ready.  Wrapping both her arms around his waist she let him pull her closer and deepen the kiss, taking all her worry and frustration of the day away.  

When he released her lips, she groaned in protest, only quieting when he kissed her cheek and then buried his face in her neck, holding her even closer than before.

"Alright, Swan?"

Emma leaned her forehead against his chest, "Killian I'm sorry about this morning. I just...." 

He tugged on her blonde locks gently forcing her to meet his blue gaze, "Aren't used to being taken care of," he finished for her.  "I know that Swan, but," he allowed space between them and laid his hand over her still flat stomach, "it's not just you these days." 

Emma covered his hand with hers, "I realize that but it's all so new and this alien inside of me..." 

Frowning at her comment, "Alien?  Like the lad's Wookie?" The tone of his voice indicative of his confusion. 

At his look Emma grinned, "Sorry, baby inside of me. Better?" 

"Aye, but someday," he tapped her nose, "I am going to be a 21st-century father after all.” His pride at that fact showing on his face.  

"That you are.  And Killian?"

"What is it, love?"

"I just wanted to say that I know I've been more difficult than usual..." She hesitated to see if he was going to deny that, but when he just kept his concerned look steady, she gained more courage and continued, "But with this pregnancy, I find myself overwhelmed and unsure what to do with those feelings." 

Killian pulled her closer to his body, "Lean on me, Swan. That's all you need to do."

I promise I'll try.  Be patient?"

"I've all the time in the world.  Well, at least a few more months."

Well, Daddy, how's this for a start of my leaning?" She looped her arm through his, "Baby is hungry.  Have time to buy us eggs at Granny's?" 

"Lead the way." He opened the door and as she walked through she saw her parents in a clinch in the corner, "Hey, you two, we're going to Granny's." Linking hands with Killian, they left the station behind. 

cs~cs~cs

Walking into the house Emma was hoping to find Killian waiting for her. She had taken time during the day to do some serious soul searching and had decided it was time to take her own advice and punch back at her fear.   She was pregnant, which now after letting go of her fear, she kept getting little tingles of anticipation every time the thought crossed her mind.  Which, with this all-day sickness, happened to be quite often.   

Stopping in the kitchen to see if Killian was reading through the cookbooks he was so fond of, she appropriated a handful of crackers to nibble on and was surprised by the quiet.  In fact, she couldn't even hear Henry's music coming down the stairs as it usually was when he was doing whatever homework had been assigned.  A completely quiet house was very unusual was what really surprised her as she made her way toward the stairs.  

"Killian?"  Not expecting an answer, she tossed her keys and phone on a small table, "He's home," she muttered to herself noticing that his jacket was tossed over a chair.  Tossing hers alongside his, she toed off her boots and walked upstairs.   The light was on in their room, but low as if he were reading.  She peered around the corner and there he was.  

He'd taken off his boots, shed his vest and was laying on his side completely absorbed in whatever he was reading.  She loved seeing him like that, relaxed, engrossed and so delicious that she must have moaned because he jumped and looked over his shoulder, "Swan, you're home!  Come sit." He rolled over and patted the bed.  

Emma crawled up beside him, leaning in for a kiss, "What has you so enthralled there, Captain?" She reached across him to look at the title of the book.

Killian turned over the cover and Emma saw he was reading a very tattered copy of What to Expect When You Are Expecting. "This book is bloody brilliant," he proclaimed.  "Did you know that our little one started as a single cell?" 

Grinning at his exuberance, Emma snuggled down against his side, feeling the afternoon lethargy start to seep in, "I remember that from biology class.  What else did you learn Einstein?" 

Killian cocked his brow, "Swan, I’m much better looking.”  

"I should have known you had read Einstein." You have become quite the reader since Belle left town.  

"Shall I explain the Theory of Relativity?" He wagged his brows at her and leaned toward her as if to steal a kiss.  

His bravado didn’t match the reddish hue that had taken up residence on his face and leaning toward him she licked around the shell of his ear, "Must be a good book.  Where did you get it?" 

"Oh, I found it on the Jolly.  Must have been left by Belle."  He laid the book on his lap and turned toward her, placing his hand on her stomach, "By my calculations, our little lad or lass is eight weeks along, which means it's time to make an appointment with the doctor." 

Emma scrunched her nose up and shook her head at how happy he seemed to be that she had to go for a check-up, “I'm a step ahead of you this time." She laughed at the way he raised his brows in disbelief, "I have an appointment with Dr. Whale tomorrow." 

"That is good news." He glanced down before once again meeting her eyes, "Shall I accompany you?"  

Emma smiled at him relief in her voice, "You would really do that?"

"Aye, love, there is nothing I would like more." He frowned slightly, "But I have to ask, why you would even wonder?" 

Trying to decide exactly how to say what she was thinking, she asked again, "Are you sure you want to go? You might find the doctor's visits of this realm, especially for a pregnancy visit, well," she shrugged her shoulders, "rather odd, I guess you could say.  I would hate for you to be uncomfortable." 

He didn't say anything for a few moments and as if reaching a decision, he lifted her shirt and bent over and kissed her stomach, just under her belly button where their child lay.  

Emma ran her fingers through his hair and massaged his scalp eliciting a sigh of appreciation from him.  When he rested his scruffy cheek on her belly and gazed at her with such love in his eyes she couldn't help but get lost in the moment. She could see him holding their child.  See him loving their child. Feeding, singing and taking such joy in everyday activities with their family that she wasn't surprised when a tear leaked from the corner of her eye. 

When he cupped her cheek and wiped the tear away, she leaned her head into his hand, “Thank you for being you and wanting to be a part of this baby's journey."

Killian lifted his head off her stomach and leaned closer, “Swan, you, Henry and now this new wee one are my world.  You know that, right?"

The tears now falling freely, Emma blinked, "I learn that more and more every single day."

Scooting down he aligned their lips, "Then I must be doing something right." 

"Oh, I think you are doing plenty of things right," she smirked at him.

"Let me try a few and you can let me know which ones you like best,” he whispered before he kissed her, taking advantage of her as only her pirate knew how to do. 

cs~cs~cs

Emma was waiting for Killian when he showed up at the station the next day to pick her up for the appointment.  After a lingering hello kiss, which earned them a throat clearing from her father, she slid her hand into his and they left the station. 

As they left Killian lifted her hand and kissed the back of it, "How is our little one treating you today, Swan?"

Emma groaned, "Not so bad now, but earlier was awful."

"I'm sorry love, I wish I could take some of your pain."

"Believe me, Killian, I would give anything to share some of this nausea with you," she giggled.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth soothingly along her hand, "On second thought, maybe I don't wish that." 

She stuck her tongue out at him, “I'm sure you know a thing or two about being sick, considering your friendship with rum."   

His calm demeanor and gentle teasing served to relax her as they meandered their way through the streets.  "Do you have any specific questions that you want to ask Dr. Whale?"

He gave her a surprised look, "I may ask questions today?"

"Sure, if you have one that you don't think I can answer." She glanced up at him before continuing, "What?"

They walked on in silence and Emma had just about given up getting an answer to her question, when a gentle squeeze brought her back from her musings, "I just wish to be here for you, love.  Together, remember?" 

Emma stopped walking and wrapped her arms around Killian's waist, hugging him tightly, "I remember.  Here we are.  Ready?"

"Aye, that I am.  Let's see what we can learn about little Jones today, shall we?"

Emma hugged him one more time before turning toward the hospital doors.  "We shall."

Once inside, they found a seat in the waiting room and when her name was called, Killian followed her through the examining area doors.  The nurse handed her a cup, "Good afternoon Emma, you know what to do." She pointed to a closed door just beyond her shoulder.  "Just put your name on it and leave it on the tray." 

Emma glanced over her shoulder at Killian, "I'll just be a bit."

"Are you sure, you don't need some help?" His tone said he might be serious but his smirk claimed otherwise.

Rolling her eyes at him, she opened the bathroom door, "No, I’m good."

"That you are." He winked at her.  

Once that was done, they followed the nurse into another room where her blood pressure and weight was checked.   After she was finished she handed her a gown saying "everything off," and left shutting the door behind her.  

She glanced out of the corner of her eye at Killian, who winked, "Need some help yet?" 

"No, I can handle it"

"Just offering my services." 

She could feel him watching her as she donned the gown and sat on the table.  To prevent the cool breeze from blowing under, she tucked it tightly around her legs and pulled the paper blanket over them.  "Out with it." She could see the wheels spinning in his head. "You can ask me anything."

"Is this," he waved his hand at her gown-clad body, "necessary?" 

Taking his hand and pulling him closer, she twisted her fingers in the collar of his jacket and drew him down for a kiss.  "He has to make sure I'm healthy.  It's routine. Remember we looked it up in the book?" 

"Aye, we did but..." and as he bent to kiss her one more time the door opened and Whale walked in.

"Emma, Hook, I understand congratulations are in order." 

Not letting go of Killian, she kept him close while she answered all the health screening questions as well as the questions about her cycle dates so they could determine when their baby would be due.  Emma could feel Killian relaxing as the visit went on and nothing more than simple questions were being asked.  She was instructed to move forward and when Whale adjusted the stirrups, Killian squeezed her hand so tightly she thought her fingers were going to crack.   Finally, he made eye contact and she whispered, "It's ok." The subtle tilt of his chin and loosening of his hand told her that was what he needed to hear.  

Whale had his back to them readying the instruments for the exam and when Emma heard the clink of metal, she glanced up into the startled face of her Pirate, whose mouth had dropped open, and she could tell that the questions were bubbling up. Squeezing his hand until he was able to tear his gaze away from what Whale was doing, "It's part of the process.  I'm fine." 

"But, Swan..." 

When Whale turned around, with instrument in hand, scooted closer to the table and lifted the blanket, a frown appeared on Killian's face and before she could stop him, he let go of her hand and grabbed Whale's wrist, "Just what the bloody hell do you plan to do with that?" 

Emma covered her eyes with her hand and groaned, "Killian, please.  Just let him finish."

"Sorry, Swan," he gave her a sheepish smile, "but that thing..." 

He let go of Whale's arm and took her hand again giving her an endearing look before turning back to keep an eye on the doctor.  

Emma watched him, noticing that his ears were turning red.  She couldn't believe her husband, a man of many hundreds of years, who had seen more things than she could ever imagine, was getting embarrassed during her exam, and he couldn't really see anything.  She loved this man, she really did.  

Whale scooted back from the table and stood up, "I'm all finished.  Why don't you get dressed and meet me in my office?"

After he left, Killian helped her sit and pulled her tightly against his chest, leaning his head down onto hers, "I'm sorry, Swan."

Emma frowned at his words of apology, "Sorry?  What are you sorry for?" 

She waited patiently wondering what he was going to say, "I'm sorry for all the unpleasantness you are being forced to endure.  The illness that plagues you, morning and night, those metal torture devices," she could feel him indicating the tool left on the cabinet. 

Pushing back, she looked up, "Killian, you know how babies are born, right?

"Why of course Swan, I’m not daft." The look on his face affronted. 

"Killian, I love that you're empathetic with what is happening to my body, and yes the sickness is unpleasant as is this part of pregnancy," she paused a moment and bit her bottom lip before continuing, "but when we hold our baby for the first time, all the unpleasantness will be but a memory."  She kissed him but realized that the heat that always simmered beneath the surface could be ignited with no problem, so kept it quick.   "Better now?"

His face relaxed before he answered her, “Aye, Swan. Ready to go?”

She smiled at his apparent anxiousness to leave, “I need my clothes first.”

He picked up and handed her the clothing, "Need some help." 

"I'm good, but maybe you can help me out of them later," she winked at him. 

"There’s nothing I would like better, love." He started walking toward the door, “I'll just wait right outside." 

Wondering what that was all about, Emma watched as he left the room before she hopped off the table and took her time getting dressed.  As she walked out of the room, he was leaning against the wall staring off into the distance.  "Killian?” She put her hand on his arm, "Are you ok?" 

"I'm fine, love." He wrapped his arm around her and turned them toward where he knew the offices were, "Shall we go see what the good doctor has learned about our little one?"

It wasn't far and by the time they arrived at Whale's office, he was waiting for them, "Emma, Hook, have a seat."

As soon as they sat down, he got right to the point, "By my calculations, you're 8 weeks pregnant.  You're healthy and have had a successful pregnancy so I don't anticipate any difficulties.  You said you are having morning sickness?" 

She nodded yes, but Killian answered, "It's more like all day sickness, is this normal?"

"Some women have that and at this point, I'm not concerned as it tells us your body is doing what it's meant to do.  Just sip on ginger ale and have crackers handy. By your next visit, you should be feeling better and we should be able to hear the baby's heartbeat.  Do you have any more questions?"

Emma shook her head no and after giving her a prescription for prenatal vitamins, they left his office to go back home.  

As they walked she noticed Killian was quieter, more subdued than he had been before the appointment.  Oh, he answered her when she asked him questions, but that was it.  She bumped his hip, "You alright?" 

He let go of her hand and wrapping his arm around her waist, pulled her close, "Aye love, I'm fine.  Why do you ask?"

"You're just quiet.  I thought you would have a million questions after the visit."

They walked in silence for a few steps more before he quipped, "All is well.  I was just thinking about that promise you made me earlier." 

Emma opened the front doors to their house and dropped her keys on the table, before turning toward him, "Promise?"

The look on his face instantly became predatory and as he stalked toward her, she backed up slowly, "I believe," he said just as he caught her, "you told me I could help you out of these." 

Wrapping her arms around his neck, and moving closer she nuzzled his chin, "I did, so what are you waiting for?" 

Before she had even finished the sentence, he covered her lips and moved them onto the sofa and no further words were spoken for quite some time.  

~fin 

. 

[blowmiakisscolin]

Pssst, guess what....

[snowbellewells]

Self-Promo Sunday Christmas Reblog: “Oh Night Divine”

This fic was originally my 2017 @cssecretsanta gift for the lovely @princesswan.  It’s a future one-shot, canon divergent, but one could easily imagine it having happened sometime not so long after where season six left off. The only thing truly AU about it is that Emma and Killian have had a little girl seemingly much sooner than they did in the show’s timeline, and I've given her my favorite AU name - Morgan Ruth - because back when I wrote this, we didn't even know little Hope would be a reality. 

Enjoy the Christmas fluff, and may it warm your heart and bring you a smile!

          The deep night’s watch was still and silent in the chill, frosty air of Maine as Killian Jones – mostly retired pirate captain, part-time deputy and harbormaster of Storybrooke – padded in sock feet and flannel pajama pants (an article of clothing he had gained quite an affinity for in the past handful of years) down the stairs of his family’s home.  Certainly the sleeping house, his Savior wife wheezing the teeniest of adorable snores upstairs in the bed they shared, and the now-soothed infant daughter once more dozing in his careful arms, were all peaceful, and the darkness broken just slightly by blue lights that wash over the living room from their Christmas tree placed proudly in the front window, guiding his steps enough to safely make his shuffling way toward the screened-in back porch, his favorite part of the house.

           Just as his long sailor’s instinct had surmised, Killian found the indigo sky above them dazzling with a vast array of bright stars.  Humming an oft-remembered shanty he had heard on his beloved older brother’s tongue many a similar dark night in the hold of a ship long ago when the dark wrapped around his child self in a much more sinister way, and Liam’s wiry arm had tucked his younger brother against his side and his calloused fingers sifted through Killian’s dark, wispy hair as he lightly breathed the words he barely remembered their mama, Alice, singing to put them to sleep at night. The whole refrain was lost to his memory ages ago, but strains of it sometimes came to him as he sought out his deepest memories – in echoes of the voices he loved most, all he’d had to love in the world until a green-eyed Savior, her son and family, crashed into his life like a tidal wave, taking him over with a power that couldn’t be held back. It had been a wild, challenging, unbelievable journey from that first glimpse of his lost princess wife’s mistrustful face glaring at him over the smoking wreckage of an Enchanted Forest refugee camp, to where he now stood barefoot on the wooden porch floor, holding their infant daughter, the product of their own True Love, in his arms. Yet, as Killian mused over it, slight up-curved tilt to his strong, full lips as he husked the last few notes of the lullaby against soft, downy wisps of dark hair at the crown of his daughter’s head and bounced slightly at the snuffled grunts she made against his shoulder, not sure if she wanted to fuss more or not, every inch he had fought for as he climbed over the walls around his Emma’s heart, had been worth it to bring him here.

           Deftly catching up an afghan made specifically for them as a first anniversary gift from Granny Lucas herself, Killian looped it over his stump and lifted it from the back of an old rocking chair to drape it over his other shoulder, arm, and the infant cradled within its grasp.  Unfazed, his sleepy daughter huffed slight gusts of warm baby breath against his bare chest, where she was snuggled, calming from the tears she had woken in when he’d gotten her from the nursery some minutes before.  Though she clearly enjoyed the warmth and security offered by the skin-to-skin contact with her sturdy, doting papa, Killian could not fathom that she gained more from these pure and priceless moments in the peaceful stillness on quiet nights than he did.

           Stroking a gentle brush of his blunted wrist over her shoulder as she nuzzled in a bit more comfortably, he watched her eyelids flutter sleepily and a soft yawn stretch her little mouth momentarily wide. Killian stepped quietly over to where they could both look out on the pristine white lawn running all the way to the iced-over, rocky shoreline where the back of their property met the bay, glowing under the moon in a perfect Maine winter’s night.  His Morgan Ruth blinked once again, her green eyes - every bit as beguiling as her mother’s – opened to stare amazedly at the scene stretched out before them.  Chuckling lightly in the back of his throat, Killian readjusted his grip as she sat forward curiously, gazing over all the blanketed white where usually there was grey and green, so that her back was now facing him, and she could really take in the nighttime landscape.  “That’s right, my bonny wee lass.  A Christmas Eve snow…many believe it lucky,” he murmured to her low and easy, a warm undercurrent to their quiet vigil, mere soothing sound to young Morgan Ruth Jones, but he was unable to stop the flow of words he had for her, and the overwhelming flood of pride and love he could never have imagined experiencing for himself – that of a father for a child of his own.

           As they stood before the large bank of windows, and he whispered lilting nonsense to her of the brightest stars on the midnight canvas of the sky and pointed out for her enjoyment the lighted angel on the top of Marco’s woodshop and the lights on the dock festooned to warn unfamiliar ships of the harbor’s edge, he couldn’t help marveling at the fact that he stood peacefully, the seething anger and revenge that had dogged him for centuries finally still, in the home he shared with his True Love and stepson, and the precious child in his arms. Bending his head once more to press a gentle kiss to Morgan’s head, it was easy to marvel at how far he had voyaged from the black-hearted villain he had let himself become to the man of honor he was once again, and the gift that the journey had given him.

           With Morgan in his arms, the blue glow of Christmas tree lights still shining from behind him as he looked out over the snow and the waves lapping gently against the rocky beach, even the thought of their entire extended clan of family and friends joining them tomorrow for Christmas dinner and the sharing of gifts, songs, stories, and laughter, could not top the stolen hour he had with his little girl, the one who had recaptured his heart already stolen by her mother.  There was no other holiday event to equal the poignant thrill of the one he was already in, and it was that moment when he heard Emma’s soft tread coming up behind him, followed by her cool, soft hand trailing over his side as she stopped right next to him.

           His breath trapped itself in his chest as he blinked rapidly, wondering if he had somehow drifted off into a dream standing still.  He had been wrong seconds ago, because only with his wife’s presence as well was the night’s magic fully complete.

^^^^^^^^^^***^^^^^^^^^^***^^^^^^^^^^^***

           Emma Swan - now Jones - had woken up alone, and after groggily feeling around in the cooling sheets and covers rumpled on her husband’s side of their bed, she had awakened more fully, and then admitted defeat, pulled on her robe, and gone in search of him.  It hadn’t really taken her long; there was a definite circuit her startlingly predictable and domestic rapscallion made when he was up late at night.  Starting at the room just down the hall from theirs, tucked into the northern corner of the house, Emma peeked in to see her now nearly adult son sleeping soundly, his feet kicked out from under the blankets and arm flung up over his face.  Though he was not Killian’s by birth, it had never stopped making Emma’s heart beat faster at how much Killian treasured her son, and always thought of him first. Henry’s room was still her captain’s first stop on his nightly check-in, whether Henry was almost eighteen or not.

           Moving back the way she had come on silent, slippered tiptoes Emma paused to smile in warm affection at the pictures scattered along the walls of their upstairs hallway.  They had – almost a year ago now, she mused – commissioned a large, spreading tree painted on the wall, its large branches filled with craggy twigs and green leaves reaching to cover the full length of the upstairs hall.  Hung at staggered intervals on the overspread branches were family photos they had taken and framed, gradually filling the wall with treasured memories.  Emma traced a finger over the picture just before her – one of herself in the delivery room with a mere minutes-old Morgan in her arms while her father stood at her bedside, hand cradling the back of her head as he often did, unabashed tears streaming down his strong face as he traced a finger over his granddaughter’s soft baby cheek and bent to place a kiss to Emma’s hair.  

           The whole thing, a “literal family tree” Killian had marveled enthusiastically when she had shared the idea with him, and again in awe when they stood back to look at it finished with pictures on its boughs, no longer brought the ache of pain in her chest that it once had.  She had often seen the family tree for pictures years ago, when she was about seven, at one of the first foster homes she’d been placed in long term. She had loved the thing, spent hours staring at all the pictures until she knew every single one and its spot of honor by heart.  As she stayed there one month, then two, and then three and her birthday neared, she had begun to hope that she might be adopted and added to the tree – a picture of her own saying that she finally belonged.  When she had instead been gifted a new lunch box and a fitting for the glasses she’d needed instead, and had then haltingly braved asking, only to be told offhandedly than that she was “a good kid” but she wasn’t family, wasn’t going to be staying forever, Emma had shattered somewhere inside, beyond repair, and the first level of that wall around her heart had been completed.

           Looking at the next picture, one of Henry, Anna, and Kristoff sprawled in a tangle of arms and legs on the ice rink Elsa had whipped up for them when their friends visited from Arendelle two Christmases ago, with Emma and Elsa laughingly trying to help them up instead of joining the giggling heap, Emma smiled gently despite the bittersweet scene that had bubbled back up momentarily. Seeing their happy memories preserved right in front of her, she was prouder and more contented than ever that she and her True Love had created this tree of their own, both of them now celebrating the holidays – and every day – with family neither of them had believed they would ever have…the family she had always wished for.

           Her smile small and knowing as it curved the soft contours of her face, the dimple pressing clearly into her cheek, Emma quickly checked Morgan’s nursery just across from she and Killian’s bedroom, but was not a bit surprised when she found both the cradle and the rocker, where she often discovered her husband sitting with their daughter, crooning to her until she went back to sleep, both empty.  She knew exactly where she would find them both, and suddenly she needed to see them, to wrap her arms around her husband and her daughter, to touch them both and remind herself that her once wistful dream had come true at last.

           When she stepped off the linoleum of their large kitchen – who would have ever imagined a pirate captain and a teenage boy would become adventurous cooking enthusiasts together? – and onto the hardwood of the enclosed porch, she knew Killian almost instantly sensed her presence.  Not much got by him after all.  Still, the sight of him in the glow of the moon through glass, cradling their child in his arms, near took her breath away, the dim light stealing none of his beauty, nor succeeding in hiding the handsome contours of his scruffy jawline or the twinkling blue of his mischievous gaze as she drew up alongside him, simply having to reach out and touch his warm skin as he turned to smile down at her.

           “What’re you two doing out here in the middle of the night again, hmm?” she murmured lowly, pressing a kiss to his bare bicep while happily burrowing into his side and then trailing lazy fingers over Morgan’s back before resting her hand at Killian’s waist, soothingly rubbing there as he hummed low in his throat, contented as a cat now that both his loves were with him.

           “Merely enjoying the few festive lights around the water,” he spoke lowly in response, his doting glance slipping down to Morgan, who had since turned back into his chest and resumed her sleep, belying his words about them both watching the lights and clearly gaining much more enjoyment from some cozy rest in her father’s arms.

           “Is that so?” Emma nodded playfully, as if humoring his ridiculous fancy. Beyond Marco’s décor and the dock lights, there wasn’t much Christmas lighting out so near the harbor.  She knew her husband still loved being close to the water, watching its perpetual ebb and flow ease his soul, and that he was probably hoping the same affinity would transfer to their daughter. Smirking, at the impish idea that entered her mind, Emma rubbed her hand up and down over his lower back, once more drawing his full attention.  Quirking an eyebrow as well, she added playfully, “Well, what if I really gave you something to look at, Sailor?”

           “Why,” he quirked his own rascally eyebrow with a curious tip of his head, “whatever might you mean, Love?” he returned, tip of his tongue sneaking out to run over his lower lip in a way Emma’s eyes couldn’t help but follow with her own hungry gaze. Years may have passed since their trip up the beanstalk, but he had never ceased being sizzlingly attractive to her – at a moment’s notice, with a single gesture.

           “Hmm…” she pursed her lips, looking at him deviously while merely pretending to think, “maybe something like this?” She didn’t even look away from him when she twisted her hand, and with a flick of her fingers, seemingly illuminated the night in front of them.

           Turning to look back out the windows, Killian couldn’t miss his own ship at the dock, as his dazzling wife had just lit it up like their living room tree.  White twinkle lights outlined the sails and the bow against the night sky, complete with a bright red star atop the main mast and running multicolored bulbs trailing down the mast from the star and over to circle the ship’s wheel.  “Bloody brilliant,” he mouthed in almost silent admiration, and Emma snorted lightly, shaking her head at this man who had seen and done so much, and yet still could be made so genuinely happy with the smallest sincere gesture.

           “So, that’ll do, will it, Captain?” she asked teasingly.

           “Aye,” he nodded, eyes coming back to hers and looking down on her and Morgan with such love that Emma again struggled to catch her breath.  “It will indeed.”

           She clasped his elbow, squeezing tightly and content to stay there with him the rest of the night, hating to move and have the moment of rare perfect contentment end.  “Merry Christmas, Killian,” she whispered lightly.

           “Merry Christmas to you too,” he replied, moving to the settee where they both could huddle with Morgan and enjoy their new festively lighted view to their hearts’ content.  “I love you, my Swan.” 

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @jrob64 @kmomof4​ @searchingwardrobes​ @apiratewhopines @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @jennjenn615​ @laschatzi​ @stahlop​ @teamhook​ @revanmeetra87​ @spartanguard​ @therooksshiningknight​ @gingerchangeling​ @gingerpolyglot​ @elizabeethan​ @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx​ @winterbaby89​ @let-it-raines​ @ineffablecolors​ @tiganasummertree​ @optomisticgirl​ @donteattheappleshook​ @drowned-dreamer​ @shireness-says​ @sotangledupinit @anmylica @xarandomdreamx @caught-in-the-filter @hollyethecurious @ilovemesomekillianjones @justanother-unluckysoul @kazoosandfannypacks @booksteaandtoomuchtv @bluewildcatfanatic @thislassishooked

[cluttermind]

CS Father’s Day OS - “Of Love and Fathers”

Rating: G

Summary: A very fluffy Father’s Day one shot featuring Killian’s first Father’s Day!

Read on ao3 here

//

As usual, Killian woke at the crack of dawn and was at Hope’s side the second she stirred awake. Emma was sure he spent hours watching Hope sleep, hopelessly wrapped around her finger. If it was up to Killian, he wouldn’t spend a second apart from his baby girl. He could watch her curious blue eyes take in the world around her for the rest of his life and never tire of it.

In her nightstand, Emma has Killian’s first Father’s Day card right under the gift-wrapped box containing her gift to him. She and Mary Margret had a few - okay a lot - of laughs while attempting to shop for both Killian and her dad. The thought of buying Captain Hook, the pirate captain from the enchanted forest who spent much of his life in Neverland, a set of power tools nearly killed them. Really, purchasing them for him might have resulted in Killian killing himself. David, on the other hand, had taken up a few too many DIY projects around the farm. And as cliche as it is, Emma thought she’d get him some kinda power tool set thing. Honestly, she got him exactly what he had asked for because really what did Emma and Mary Margret know about power tools other than that David used them and that sometimes (read: often) they were loud. All this to say that Killian’s gift took a much longer time to figure out. Emma’s lucky it was ready in time for today.

Once soft sounds of a fussy baby start seeping through the baby monitor, Emma hears Killian’s gentle coos. “Good morning my little love.”

Emma giggles right along with Hope. Hearing the fearsome pirate captain coo to a baby in the sweetest voice imaginable still made her laugh a little. Slipping out of bed, she grabs her robe from the closet and makes her way to her husband and their daughter. Killian is leaning over the crib, tickling Hope’s belly telling her over and over again how pretty she is while she laughs at the ridiculous faces he’s making.

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

Nearly a year ago Emma was feeling particularly miserable to the point that Killian, at times, wanted to stab himself with his own hook just to stop her from screaming at him for just about everything. If she wasn’t testing his patience, she was throwing up or crying which hurt him in an entirely different way.

After a particularly grueling morning, Emma took the day off from work. In the quiet solitude of an empty house, her mind was clear enough to recognize what might be going on which, of course, led to more crying. Because they hadn’t talked about this. Because she wasn’t sure they were ready. Because she wanted this so desperately. Because part of her knew that in their conversations about the future, the unspoken meaning of “we” was “us and our children.”

So she took a test. And it was positive. And it took every fiber of being to not run down to the station and shower Killian in a million and more kisses.

When Killian got home that night, Emma was waiting for him in the living room with a pale yellow gift bag which might have confused him if he wasn’t so happy to see her smiling at him.

“Are you feeling better, love?”

“Much better,” Emma said, handing him the bag. “I have a surprise for you.”

Killian kissed her cheek as he took the bag from her. He pulled out a small white onesie with a blue anchor on it and read the text out loud. “Daddy’s little sailor?” He asked. Then it hit him and his eyes met hers. “Swan are you pregnant?” Killian asked softly, his voice barely a whisper as tears pooled in his eyes.

Emma nodded. “We’re having a baby.”

Killian swept her up in his arms, careful not to hurt her with his hook, and spun her around. When her feet touched the floor again he kissed her. She could taste his tears against his lips. His hand was still clutching the small item of clothing. “We’re having a baby,” Killian repeated. “I’m going to be a Papa.”

----------

“A shilling for your thoughts, love?” Killian’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts. He was cradling Hope, who was clutching Killian’s hook with her tiny hands, in his arms.

“I was just thinking about how wonderful you are with her.”

Killian grins, dipping his head to press his lips against Hope’s temple. “I never thought it was possible to love someone this much.” Hope’s wide eyes watch the way the morning sunshine dances on the shiny silver of Killian’s hook that now dons a rubber pink protector to keep Hope from hurting herself on the end of it.

Emma wraps her arms around his waist from behind, resting her cheek against the back of his shoulder. “Happy Father’s Day, Killian.”

Killian is genuinely confused. “Happy what?”

“Father’s Day.”

“Are you making up holidays now, Swan?”

Emma released him from her arms and moved to step in front of him to figure out if he’s joking with her or not. He’s not. “Have you never heard of Father’s Day?”

“No.” Killian sighs. “I never had a father worth celebrating.”

Emma tries to remember celebrating in years past but the first few Father’s Days here she spent alone with Mary Margret and David and when Killian came into her life he’d cover for them at the station so they can spend the day together. This time, a new deputy was covering so that Killian could enjoy the day as well.

“Well,” Emma starts, “remember when we celebrated Mother’s Day? This day is yours, babe. You’re a wonderful father and we love you so much.” Emma turns to Hope, tickling her belly. “Isn’t that right Hope? We love Daddy very much.” Hope giggles in response, causing Killian to smile.

“Daddy loves you too my little starfish.”

Emma kisses him softly. “We’re heading to my parents for a barbecue around 3 but the whole morning is yours. We can do whatever you want.”

Killian raises an eyebrow at her. “Whatever I want?”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Aye, Captain.”

He looks at Hope. “Want to spend the morning on the Jolly, little starfish?”

They spend the morning on the Jolly, enjoying some brunch and the sea breeze while the ship remained docked. They walk Hope around the whole ship as Killian talks incessantly about the ship and his adventures and Emma listens, enraptured as always by the way Killian tells a story (even ones she’s heard multiple times). He’s a real-life storybook character albeit with a more indecent past with the women he’s seduced and the people he’s killed and stolen from. She finds it amusing how he skips over those parts when he’s talking to Hope.

Truthfully, Killian’s biggest fear is still what Hope will think of him when she finds out. It’s impossible to hide his past when it’s written in Henry’s storybook. As many times as Emma reassures him that Hope will love him not matter what because he’s her daddy and she’s his starfish and he is absolutely brilliant with her, Emma knows this fear will be something he lives with for a long time.

Time flies as Killian recounts his adventures and soon it’s time to head over to see her parents. Henry, Robin, Regina and Roland beat them there and Henry and Roland are already sparring with David by the time they park the car. Mary Margret fawns over Hope, complaining that she doesn’t get to spend enough time with her beautiful grandbaby and Killian nearly frowns when she’s no longer in his arms. Robin greets Killian with a clap on the back

“I think it’s time for presents!” Mary Margret squeals after they have dinner on the back deck. Henry leaves with her to grab everything. Somehow the two of them manage to carry everything to the table and both David and Killian blush furiously.

“Mine first!” Henry says, handing David a large wrapped box. Inside was a new saddle blanket for David’s horse in Northeastern University red and white. After a bear hug from his grandfather, Henry handed Hook a red gift bag. “Happy Father’s Day, Hook.”

It took Killian a second to process what was happening. He would’ve cried if he didn’t have a reputation to maintain. “Thank you, mate.” Inside was a dark grey t-shirt with white and gold lettering that read “Northeastern Dad.” Pulling the shirt out of the bag and reading what it said, pushed Killian over the edge, a single tear slipping from the corner of his eye. He quickly stood and pulled Henry into a tight embrace. “Thank you.”

“Mom got a Northeastern Mom one when we were moving in. I thought it was time you had a matching one. Now you can both look equally embarrassing when you’re moving me in in August.”

Killian chuckled. “Don’t give her any -”

“That’s a BRILLIANT idea!” Emma squealed.

“Ideas.” Killian sighed as he finished his sentence, still smiling brightly at the family he now had, the family he had always wanted but never believed he deserved.

“Okay okay. It’s my turn.” Emma said. David opened the set of power tool things and proceeded to explain what he would use each tool and feature for. Finally, it was time for Emma to give Killian his gift. It was a small wrapped box, only slightly larger than the size of Killian’s hand. In the box is a pocket sundial. Since Killian refuses to wear a watch, Emma thought this would suit him more. It’s solid brass and with his name engraved on the outside and a photo of him and Hope from the first time they took her to the Jolly on the inside. “Happy Father’s Day, babe.” Killian looked up from the sundial to see Emma holding their daughter. His heart was suddenly filled with more love than he ever believed was possible for one man to feel.

Robin rested his hand on Killian’s shoulder. “Happy Father’s Day, mate. Isn’t it the best feeling in the world?”

Killian grinned at his friend. “Aye. Happy Father’s Day.”

Roland gave Robin a handmade card, which was quite possibly the most adorable thing in the world, and a new set of arrows that were hand painted fun colors (which were clearly a joint effort between Regina and Roland).

Mary Margret, as a joke, had t-shirts that said “Hot Dads of Storybrooke Crew” on them made for  David, Robin, and Killian which elicited howls of laughter from all three of them when they opened them at the same time. Their last names were on the back, like a jersey, and their numbers reflected the order in which they became fathers - Nolan 01, Locksley 02, Jones 03. The rest of them roll their eyes at the men’s now even more inflated egos. Seconds after opening them, the “Hot Dads of Storybrooke Crew” plans to wear them together at Roland’s next soccer match. Town summer soccer matches turn into mini festivals with all different food being sold for fundraisers, music and dancing for the kids, and adult beverages for the parents.

Hope was fast asleep on the drive home and Emma was barely awake herself while Killian drove. He put Hope to sleep while Emma showered and got ready for bed. She read a bit of a book Killian had recommended to her while he did the same afterwards before climbing into bed.

“Emma?” Killian asks, rolling on his side to face her.

She knows by the look in his eyes that this is moving in a more serious direction. Killian clearly has something on his mind. Emma sets the book down and turns on her side to face him “What’s on your mind, Jones?”

Killian's hand rests on her hip. “I uhm -”

Not often does Killian get flustered, but now he was blushing furiously. “Talk to me, babe.” Emma cups his cheek, her thumb stroking soothingly.

“Have you thought about having another baby?” Killian whispers.

“Maybe.” Emma grins. “Have you?”

“Aye.” Killian returns her smile.

“And do you want another baby?”

Killian kisses her softly. “Aye, love.”

“Me too.” Emma rests her forehead against Killian’s. “Watching you with Hope has been the most incredible thing in the world, Killian. I love you with all my heart.”

“I love you, too. Always. To the end of the earth and time.”

[welllpthisishappening]

A Chance of Snow Showers

It was inevitable. 

After all, it was family skate, and Christmas, and there was something inherently competitive about this particular family so, eventually, there was going to be some kind of competition. 

Skating blue lines with a baby strapped to his chest made perfect sense to Killian. Especially if it kept getting Emma to make that face. 

-----

Rating: Teen. But only just. Because of the kissing.  Word Count: 3.3 K AN: I had to write some Blue Line Christmas fluff. I had to. And when both @peglegsjones​ and @eleveneitherway​ sent me pictures from the Blackhawks family skate, my mid was like...ok. Set two Christmases after Killian retires, which makes it December 2028. Everyone is stupid competitive. 

And that’ll do it for the Christmas stories this year. I did not fill nearly all of them, so they will all get written eventually, but may not be holiday themed. Thank you to everyone who sent me a prompt, I’m so sorry if I didn’t get to it pre-Disney and, as always, thank you times a million for ever looking at any of the words I shove at the internet. You’re all lovely. 

-----

“It’s really not fair.”

“What isn’t?”

“You.”

“Me?” Killian asked, digging the toe of his skate into the ice and Emma hummed so softly he barely heard over the din around them. 

There were kids everywhere. 

Some with helmets and others with sticks, blades scraping that same ice and laughter ringing in the air around them. Matt was very clearly shouting about racing, again and Peggy was desperately trying to get Leo to play goalie so she could shoot against him, but neither Killian nor Emma had moved that much and that probably had something to do with the kid strapped to his chest and she kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. Badly. 

It made his pulse sputter in his veins. 

Still. 

“Yeah, you,” Emma nodded. She stumbled slightly when she pushed away from the boards, Killian’s hand reaching out towards her on instinct and the same sentiment behind still and he wasn’t all that surprised by the overall and vaguely exasperated diameter of her eyes as soon as he did it.

“That’s chivalrous.”

She scrunched her nose. “Ridiculous. And just—god, it is really stupid how good looking you are with the skates—“

“—It’d be weird if I didn’t have skates on—“

“—And the face—“

“—My face?”

“Seriously, you cannot keep interrupting me.”

“Well, when you’re so articulate,” Killian chuckled, and he did manage to get his fingers through her belt loop that time, tugging Emma as close as he could. The baby was kind of in the way. 

In a way where that was actually good and great and decidedly familial. At the Rangers family skate. 

Four days before Christmas. 

“You know,” Killian drawled, “if I didn’t know any better, Swan, I’d think that my ability to skate while holding our kid was vaguely attractive to you.”

“Vaguely. You think you can skate with the kid? Does this count as skating?”

“That sounds a bit like a challenge.”

“Weird.”

He chuckled, nosing at Emma’s cheek, but that only lasted as long as it took for something else to crash behind the net and Killian’s fingers tightened. There was no way Emma was going to be able to keep her balance when she jumped towards the sound. 

Matt wasn’t standing anymore. 

And that wasn’t really unexpected, but they’d been working on figuring out how to stop, so Killian was almost hopeful that eventually something would stick. No such luck, apparently. 

“In my defense,” Will yelled, both his hands curled into the back of Matt’s jersey to keep him upright, “this was not my fault.”

Killian tilted his head. “That’s it? That’s your entire defense? How did he even get over there?”

“Well, he’s fast.”

“Genetics,” Emma mumbled, Will humming in agreement. 

There was a camera shutter snapping somewhere.”

“Uh—yeah,” Will added,  “I mean, look at the kid, Cap, with his flailing limbs and—mostly his flailing limbs, can you control yourself, Dr. J?”

Matt did not control himself. He laughed. And Killian hadn’t really stopped smiling, partially because his fingers were still crooked through Emma’s belt loop, which ensured that she was all but pressed against his side, and partially because all his kids kept exuding something dangerously close to Christmas joy and—

“He’s gunning for a competition,” Will said. “And I think that’s got to be a product of his upbringing, don’t you?”

“Was that supposed to be insulting?” Killian asked. 

“Eh, honest, maybe.”

“That’s scathing, Merry Christmas, Scarlet.”

Will practically cackled. 

“Dad, Dad, Dad,” Matt shouted. “Rol said we should all race! Like with a bracket and everything.”

“Did he just?”

Roland grit his teeth. “Skating in a circle gets kind of boring, don’t you think, Hook?”

“Also sounds like a challenge,” Emma mumbled. 

And it wasn’t really surprising — the lot of them far too competitive for their own good, even after the end of careers and years off the ice and Killian wasn’t entirely sure if they were all supposed to be there, technically, but Ruby had her phone out and there were several other PR minions with cameras and social media feeds to populate and—

Chris started squirming, the back of his feet colliding with Killian’s stomach when he kicked out and Emma’s lips all but disappeared behind her teeth while she did her best not to laugh. 

It did not work. 

“Lucas, are you getting this?” Robin asked, his own stick propped up on his shoulder and Regina standing next to him. Very close to Ariel. 

Regina had begrudgingly agreed to come onto the ice as well — only after both Roland and Henry pulled her out with them — but she hadn’t moved much in the last half an hour, and Ariel’s skates had a distinct toe pick them. 

That wouldn’t help her if they raced. 

They were absolutely all going to race. 

Over-competitive weirdos. 

“Don’t insult me like that,” Ruby said. One of the minions moved their cameras, Killian doing his best to calm Chris while also making sure Matt did eventually get back to his feet and, from the sounds of it, Leo had absolutely refused to get in goal. “No, no, no,” she snapped, a quick hand on the minion’s shoulder when, it appeared, they weren’t getting the right angle. “Cap—focus on Cap and the kid and—you know what, actually? This is a sign.”

“Of?” Ariel asked. 

“Cap is old.”

Will almost fell over. Matt practically growled. “Sorry, sorry, sorry, Dr. J,” he mumbled. “It’s just—I don’t think Ruby’s worker bee knew she was talking about your dad. Maybe we should come up with new nicknames, then?”

“Captain Emeritus,” Robin grinned.

“Nah, that’s too wordy.”

Emma had her hand over her mouth now. 

“What about CE, then?” Robin suggested, before almost immediately shaking his head. “Ah, that’s garbage too, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely.”

“And it suggests that there’s a new captain,” Mary Margaret pointed out. She grunted when she collided with the boards, both Regina and Ariel helping her brace herself. “Which, you know—that’s not a thing.”

“Thank you Mrs. Nolan,” Will said, “for the English language lesson. Hey, you going to race with us?”

Mary Margaret made a ridiculous noise in the back of her throat. “Are you kidding me?”

“It’s an idea.”

“Ruby would have to dedicate an entire special to me breaking both my legs.”

“Doesn’t exactly exude the festive notion of the season, does it? Honestly, do the new minions not know to refer to Cap as—oh, don’t look at me like that, Lucas.”

Ruby hissed. “Did you just call him a minion?”

“It’s a term of endearment. Like Cap.”

“God, you lack any tact, don’t you, Scarlet?” Regina asked, but she was also doing a fairly pitiful job of trying not to laugh and Killian wasn’t sure what the appropriate feeling to feel in a moment like this was. 

Pain, apparently. 

Peggy had slammed, rather unceremoniously, into his side. 

“So none of them know how to stop, huh?” Robin laughed. Peggy didn’t move. If anything, she dug her forehead further into Killian’s thigh, drawing a strangled sound out of him and a disgruntled sound out of the baby still strapped to his chest and—

“Dad,” Peggy whined. “I want to race.”

Killian narrowed his eyes at Roland. Who grinned in response. “I don’t know what to tell you, Hook. They’re your kids and—“

“—You want to race too,” Emma pointed out. 

He shrugged. “Well, yeah, I’ve got to beat Mattie.”

It took approximately half a second for Matt to get back to his skates — a fact Will was very quick to point out and for Killian to be slightly proud of because—“No, no, no, Rol, that’s not what’s gong to happen,” Matt argued. He pushed off, moving quickly enough to be impressive and redirect the camera again, right fist colliding with Roland’s side as soon as he was within reach. 

Henry pulled him away. 

“We need some rules, then, don’t you think?” Henry asked. “Because these old people—“ There was a general hum of disagreement, more than a few boo’s from David and Phillip threw a pile of ice-snow from the other side of the rink. Henry widened his eyes. “They’re all going to try and cheat. Gunning for past glories and whatnot.”

“To remind people of longstanding nicknames,” Emma added. “And three Stanley Cups!”

The minion turned very red. 

Like a Santa hat. 

They should apologize to the minion eventually. 

Henry quirked an eyebrow. “You going to race?”

“Seriously?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“The competitive gene runs real strong on the Jones side of this team,” Will announced, twisting on his skates like he was getting ready for puck drop. 

Emma beamed. 

And Killian hoped that wasn’t a distraction later. 

Competitive weirdo. 

“Rules, then?” Henry asked. “We probably shouldn’t let you guys pick who you skate against because—“

“—I want to race Scarlet,” Emma interrupted. “And only Scarlet.”

Will’s lips twitched, moving towards them with enough ease that for a moment Killian forgot they were, in fact, all old and it had been years and seasons, but three Stanley Cups too and that was another inherently good thing. Peggy tugging on the side Will’s sweater when he stopped. 

“You don’t want to race Cap?”

“Please,” Emma balked. “Mattie’s going to race Killian—“

“—Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Matt shouted, and it was difficult to tell if Will rolled his eyes when Killian did as well, but he figured. Because of those years. 

“That’s a good point,” Will admitted. 

“It’s because Emma thinks she can beat you,” David called, Emma nodding and humming and her laugh hadn’t changed much in the years. Any of them. Maybe a little louder now than it had been, particularly when Will lunged forward, tugging her with him and Killian hoped one of the cameras got him picking up Peggy. 

While still holding Chris. 

He was unreasonably proud of himself. 

“That’s rude, Em,” Will chided. It was difficult to hear the words over his laugh though and they did keep referring to Ruby’s PR people as minions so maybe they all were kind of rude. 

Collectively. 

But in a passably festive way. 

And it only took a few minutes to write out the bracket — the lot of them lining up at the far blue line and Ruby announcing, “I am in charge, obviously.”

Both Robin and Phillip saluted. 

“Ok,” Ruby instructed, “Em and Scarlet are going to go first. One blue line to the other. Fastest wins…we don’t have a stopwatch, do we?”

“We have phones,” Ariel suggested. “And, you know—eyes.”

“Ha ha ha.”

“You’re taking this way too seriously, Lucas,” Will mumbled, swatting at Emma’s hands every few seconds. “Just shout ready, set go and—“

“Go,” Emma yelled. She’d used him to push off. 

Killian’s whole body shook with the force of his reaction to that, chin coming close to Chris’ head in the process and Emma didn’t really know how to stop either. She grunted when her shoulder hit the glass, a gasp when she tried to twist and her skate got caught and Matt was yelling instructions. 

“No, no, Mom, you’ve got to push off! With your toes!”

Emma hummed, more color rising in her cheeks. “Thanks, kid. That’s—oh my God, Scarlet, you cheat!”

He flashed her a grin when he doused her ankles with snow-ice, more than a few gasps of indignation from the peanut gallery. And for a moment, they weren’t much more than a mess of limbs and seasonally appropriate activewear, trying to keep the other from moving too quickly, but Emma found her edge quicker and it was probably the return trip back down the ice that was going to do them all in. 

Will was out of breath by the time he got there. 

Emma’s eyes were very green. 

When she all but flung herself towards Killian. 

And there was still a baby in the way, Killian’s neck twisting in a direction he was sure he wouldn’t appreciate all that much later, but he was admittedly rather one tracked at the moment. So he kissed his wife. 

Who was also in desperate need of oxygen. 

“Please tell me how impressed you are by my athletic prowess,” Emma mumbled into his mouth. He nipped at her lip. 

“Decidedly impressed.”

“Who do I skate against later?”

Ruby sighed. “Do you not know how brackets work? We have to go though the rest of the round. Alright, Rook, c’mere, you’ve got to stand on the line.”

It went like that for another two races — Phillip barely moving before Roland was at center ice and Henry had absolutely let Peggy win. 

And then. 

Matt grinned at Killian when they lined up on the blue line and part of him was a little disappointed that it was a first-round matchup. Eventually they’d come up with better brackets. 

Presumably when they played air hockey. 

That was more serious, anyway. 

“Alright, kid,” Killian said, “you ready?”

Matt nodded enthusiastically, brushing the longer-than-usual strands of hair away from his eyes in a move that was so alarmingly familiar Killian was genuinely surprised his knees didn’t give out right there. 

It didn’t matter. Emma’s might of. She made a noise at least — tugging her phone out of her back pocket with her other arm curled around Peggy’s shoulders and Mary Margaret nearby. “It’s patently stupid,” Emma muttered. “Also, is that happening?”

She nodded towards Chris, his own head tilted up slightly, like he was passably interested in whatever was about to happen. 

Killian shrugged. “I’m not planning on falling over. Or, you know—crashing into the boards.”

“Are you trash talking our kid?”

“It’s entirely possible. Plus, you know, he’ll enjoy it.”

“Which kid?”

“This one,” Killian answered, pointing down at a gurgling Chris. He made a face at him. “Right, Chris? We’re going to go fast. You’ll love it.”

“Maybe we don’t get this part on camera,” Ariel suggested. 

“Mini-Jones, you hearing this?” Ruby asked. Matt’s eyes narrowed. More tells. All the tells. A never-ending stream of similarities and genetics and the kid actually had the gall to crouch like he was starting a speed-skating race in the Olympics. 

Killian’s jaw dropped. 

“Oh, he’s not taking your garbage, Cap,” Robin chuckled. “Try and balance on your side when you turn ok, Matt? Make sure you twist your hips when you do it, otherwise you’ll absolutely fall over.”

Matt blinked. “What?”

“Your hips, it’s—seriously, did your dad not teach you anything?”

“I’m standing right here,” Killian said. 

“And the kid still doesn’t know how to stop,” Roland mumbled, one side of his mouth curling up. Emma buried her head in Mary Margaret’s shoulder. 

“I can stop,” Matt objected. He was already drifting forward a bit though, not all that pleased when Killian tugged him back, but Ruby was counting down and Killian was not prepared for the overall strength of his ten-year-old’s collective lower body. 

Because Matt pushed off and Killian wasn’t ready and—

“Oh shit,” he hissed, Emma’s laugh ringing in his ears when he raced after Matt. And he couldn’t remember the last time he’d skated blue lines, even if he did get on the ice regularly, a distinct sting in the general area of his lungs when he did his best to pick up speed. 

Killian tried to move his arms, crouching on instinct, but there was also another kid there and that kid did not appreciate going fast as much as he might have liked. Or being bent awkwardly. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Killian chanted, like Chris would remember any of this particularly scarring moment. Matt laughed when his hand hit the boards, a quick snap of his neck that made it all too obvious just how wide his smile was. 

Triumphant, that was the word for it. 

“You’ve got go faster, Dad!”

It was impossible to know who was laughing louder at the other end of the rink. 

Killian exhaled, every muscle in his thighs objecting to the movement when he pressed down, lowering his head like that would also lower his center of gravity, but it was a breakaway and a two-on-one and he’d never been very good at turning anyway.

No chance. 

Matt didn’t quite slam into the second round of boards, but he wobbled as he slid over the blue line, palms flat against Will’s chest when he caught him, another twist and flail of limbs and Killian couldn’t really stand up. 

“Wow,” Emma mused, another smile that practically hung from all three letters, “that’s kind of embarrassing, isn’t it?”

Killian shook his head. “The kid is good at skating. Even if he cheated too.”

“I did not,” Matt objected. 

“Eh…like mother, like son, huh?”

“No, no, no, you were just slow. I didn’t push off like Mom did! And Rubes was counting, so—“

“—The kid’s got a point,” Ruby said, a distinct rhythm to her voice. “Long live the legend of Captain Killian Jones. Bested by his own son at a game they are both questionably good at.”

“A compliment, Lucas?” Killian asked. 

“You still skate good.”

“Well,” Mary Margaret amended. 

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Em, you’re going to race Rol in the next round. Let’s go.”

Roland beat Emma. 

Peggy beat Matt. 

That did not end well — shouts and sneers, Emma holding onto Peggy and Will holding onto Matt and Ruby told the minions to leave that alone. So she could take her own video. 

There were accusations of more cheating, tongues sticking out and noises that were not at all festive, several adults trying to look responsible because—

“I’m going to win the whole thing now,” Peggy announced. 

Which was exactly what she did. 

No push off. No false start. Just speed and Roland’s wide-eyed expression when she held her edge on the turn, every single adult on the ice breaking out into cheers as soon as she crossed the blue line. 

And Killian wasn’t really surprised by that either — more about genetics, he was sure, but there was something close to joy and distinctly like pride surging through every inch of him and he nearly fell back when Peggy jumped towards him. Her hair hit his mouth. 

“Dad, did you see? Did you watch?! That was so—“

“—You were great, little love.”

She threw her arms around his shoulders. 

Chris wasn’t pleased by that either. 

They stayed on the ice for another hour — photo-ops and interviews and a social media presence that would probably be Ruby’s greatest NHL legacy, but Killian didn’t ever actually take Chris off and Emma kept shooting him furtive glances, a warmth curling at the base of his spine and erasing any memories of loss, recent or otherwise and he glanced down before he spoke. 

Like he was double checking with his skating partner. 

“You won’t remember this, right?” Killian asked. Chris gurgled. “Yeah, that’s what I figured. Alright, let’s go.”

Emma didn’t flinch when Killian moved into her space, twisting her towards him and he felt her smile when he caught her mouth with his, enough happiness to power several cities, which was a very cyclical thought and an even better life and he might have shivered when her tongue dragged across his lower lip. 

“Gotcha,” she muttered. 

“Was it a race?”

“I’ve lost track of the metaphor, honestly.”

“I wasn’t even sure we were making metaphors,” Killian admitted, Emma laughing and canting her hips and that was a dangerous thing on ice, but he’d always been very good on ice and his hand found the small of her back. 

“Watching you skate with a baby strapped to you was the single most attractive thing I’ve ever seen. Just you know, for the record.”

He leaned back—all too aware of the heat in his cheeks and the state of his pulse, but Emma’s eyes were almost distractingly green and she didn’t blink. Just looked up and held his gaze, toying with Chris’ fingers like that wasn’t the most attractive thing anyone had ever done. 

Over-competitive weirdos, honestly. 

“I love you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Killian echoed. “I look forward to beating you at air hockey.”

“Sounds like a plan, Cap.”

[everything-person]

CS January Joy Day 21

A/N: This is my contribution for @csjanuaryjoy. Not what I was planning to write but I hope it’s good enough.

Summary: Nothing but domestic fluff ficlet.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Killian came home and saw his wife in the kitchen, her back turned to him. He quietly approached her moving to wrap his arms around her waste. When he was close enough he captured her in his grasp and nuzzles his face in the crook of her neck.

Emma let out a gasp her body stiffening before she relaxed against her husband. “Killian,” she sighed.

“Hello love.” He heard a splash and felt water land on his arms. Lifting up his head he saw their beautiful daughter sitting in the sink receiving a bath. “And hello little love.”

Hope picks her head up once her eyes land on her father she shrieks in excitement, throwing her hands up to reach for him, sending water everywhere.

Killian leans around Emma placing soft kisses on top of Hopes head, her hands grasping at his graying beard.

“Alright we have finish getting this one clean and dry then you two can play and cuddle all you want.”

Killian straightened up planting a wet sloppy kiss on his wife’s cheek before moving away so they may finish Hopes bath.

Ten minutes later Emma walks into the living room carrying Hope wrapped up in a fluffy hooded towel.

“I brought you a present,” she teases laying Hope on his chest.

“Thank you,” Killian says as he secures Hope to body.

“I’ll be right back,” Emma heads upstairs leaving Killian sitting comfortably on the couch cradling his little princess as she snuggles closer to him.

Emma comes back down stairs, now wearing a dry tank top and pajama bottoms, holding footy pjs and a diaper for their daughter.

Killian places Hope on the couch next to him unwrapping the towel from around her and begins dressing her after Emma hands over the diaper and pjs. Once she dressed Killian picks her up and lays her back down on his chest. Emma throws the wet towel to the side curling up next to her husband and child.

Grabbing the remote she asks, “what do you want to watch?”

“How about the cow movie Hope seems to like?”

Emma smiles as she opens Disney+ and turning on Home on the Range. Laying her head against her husbands shoulder. Half way through the movie they almost fall asleep like that but Killian has the good sense to nudge his wife telling her to go to bed. He joins her after he put his sleeping daughter to bed. Though Emma loves to tell him how much Hope is like him she sleeps like her mother. Once she’s out nothing will wake her until she wants to wake up.

Killian climbs into bed behind his wife. He molds to her sleeping form pulling her back against his chest. Once he’s comfortable sleep quickly takes him. He doesn’t dream though since he’s found Emma and they had Hope he’s had no reason to.

[distant-rose]

Notes: Life has been hectic, I’ve been gone for awhile but goddamn people, I’m not dead. At least not yet. I owe @effulgentcolors a story and hopefully that will be up this week, but roughly two weeks ago @justanotherwannabeclassic and @shireness-says challenged me to a “babies with hats” fit battle and I couldn’t resist the call. This is two weeks late, but life is stressful so be kind to me. Anyway, I owe @shireness-says and @optomisticgirl my life for helping me find my muse and getting back. I really have missed the LP verse a lot. Here’s some baby!Harrison cuteness and some surprise Mama!Jones feels. Summary: He’s known he was going to be a dad for roughly seven months, one week, five hours, twenty-one minutes and thirty-six seconds, but it’s one thing to know you’re having a child and another thing entirely for your child to be born. Word Count: 2,400+ Rating: T

--

Killian Jones is a mess.

His body is on the verge of collapse, and in any other situation, he would have gone home to his bed by now, but not today. Instead, he’s staying where he is and basking in the dawning of this very new, very real and very scary era.

Six hours, twenty minutes and twenty-seconds.

That’s how long it’s been, not that he’s counting or anything, but in six hours, twenty minutes and now twenty-eight seconds, Killian’s life has completely and irrevocably changed.

He’s a dad.

He’s known he was going to be a dad for roughly seven months, one week, five hours, twenty-one minutes and roughly thirty-six seconds, but it’s one thing to know you’re having a child and another thing entirely for your child to be born. 

His son has been on this earth for six hours, twenty-one minutes and six seconds and Killian’s internal organs have been a complete mess ever since. His heart has become too big to be contained in his chest, slamming a resentful rhythm against his ribcage while his stomach twists itself in intricate knots over the fact he’s out getting coffee while Emma and their child are on an entirely different floor. 

Killian Jones is an entire two floors and six rooms away from his family and he hates it.

He resents the fact he needs caffeine to stay awake and that he can’t just run on the overwhelming amount of emotion that his body seems to be vibrating with.

He’s overacting. 

He knows this.

Knowing doesn’t stop the anxiousness that crawls underneath his skin and the impatient tap of his fingers against the metal counter as he waits for the barista to finish his order. The older woman behind the counter keeps giving him dirty looks, but Killian couldn’t manage to give a damn, even if he tried. Her terrible work ethic is keeping him from his kid.

He takes his coffee the second it touches the counter, muttering a half-hearted thanks under his breath as he starts a pace somewhere between a walk and run back to the en-suite upstairs. The coffee is absolute shit and tastes more like charcoal than something remotely palatable, but he can’t bring himself to complain.

Six minutes and thirty-four seconds.

That’s how it takes him to make it back to Emma’s hospital room. It’s a six minutes and thirty-four seconds too long.

The anxiousness in his body calms the moment he opens the door.

Emma is blessedly asleep, her hair splayed across her pillow like a golden halo. It’s almost shocking to see her laying on her back when he knows she prefers to be on her side, but considering the day’s events, he supposes exhaustion has outweighed her usual quest for comfort.

Without his conscious thought, his feet move towards the hospital and before he knows it, he’s standing above his slumbering wife. He bends down and gives her a brief kiss to her forehead. Her brow crinkles under the scratch of his whiskered chin and, for a moment, all the blood in his veins freezes at the fear of waking her but Emma merely mutters something in her sleep before turning on her side away from him.

He sighs in relief.

No one deserves sleep more than her right now. She spent more than twenty hours in a difficult labor and somehow managed to push a nearly five-kilogram child out of her body. She’s the Savior, but she was never more superhuman to him than she was giving birth to their son. 

Where Emma doesn’t wake, the other occupant stirs; whimpering sounds from the other side of the room. 

Harrison is awake.

He leaves his wife’s side to tend to his son. 

His son.

Killian Jones has a son.

He can’t seem to get over that fact.

Harrison Liam Jones is six hours, twenty-nine minutes and fifty seconds old and he looks more like a little burrito than a baby, practically engulfed by the pastel duckling patterned blanket he’s wrapped him. When he was born, he was a screaming red creature covered in vernix and blood, paradoxically tiny and gigantic at the time. He’s still a little red, but now Killian can actually make out Emma’s nose on his son’s face and the beginnings of what looks a bit like David’s chin. The thought makes threatens to bring tears to his eyes.

He gently scoops his newborn son up into his arms in a move that he’s practiced more times than he could count with weighted pillows. Despite his constant training, his arms still tremble as he settles his son against his chest; afraid he’ll slip through his grasp and disappear.

The child lets out another round of whimpers that threaten to turn into full blown cries. Killian nearly panics at the noise, afraid that it will wake Emma. He rocks the boy gently, making low shushing sounds in hopes of placating him. His son seems appeased for the moment, drifting back to sleep and burrowing his face in his new blanket.

He cannot help but grin as Harrison settles. He’s six hours, thirty-two minutes and twenty-five seconds into his role as a father and he’s already managed to get his boy to stop crying. It’s very promising start to the most important job Killian has ever had.

He remembers quite vividly his wedding and how when he married his wife, he thought he couldn’t love anyone as much as he loved her. Now, he knows that it’s not entirely true. The love he feels for Emma is True with a capital T, but she’s not his only True Love anymore. She has to share that spot with someone new. This impossibly small creature has stolen his heart and he just might get sick from the amount of love he’s feeling at the moment.

He runs a finger down Harrison’s cheek, marveling at the softness of his skin. Baby skin is delicate, so unlike his own. His hands are rough, thick with callous and covered with scars while his son is untouched and smooth.

He doesn’t know how anything so pure could come from him.

“You wouldn’t know this, my boy, but your good ole father is more than three hundred years old,” he murmurs quietly, continuing to trace his son’s cheek. “And in three hundred years, I’ve done a lot of things, but nothing…nothing compares…you are the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Harrison doesn’t respond nor does Killian expect him to. His mere existence is enough to make his heart swell with more emotion. 

“I know you can’t understand me yet…but you’re new and I’m going to tell you some things you ought to know…in case, you missed it…I’m your father…and that angel sleeping over there…that’s your mother…she’s pretty tired, you gave her a tough time, but we forgive you for it and we both love you very much and that’s never going to change…”

Harrison moved his arm as he shifts himself closer to Killian’s chest. He can’t tell if the boy is actually listening to him or he’s just shifting to sleep on his side; just like his mother. Either way, Killian continues on.

“And it’s not just us…you have a brother…his name is Henry and he’s been waiting a long time to meet you…he’s not here right now, but he will be soon and he’s going to teach you all sorts of things…just like my brother did…and you have grandparents too…you got David and Snow…they’re your mom’s parents…mine are gone…I think my mother would have loved you…”

It’s been a long time since Killian has thought about his mother and now that he is, he finds the memory is unfocused and fuzzy like an undeveloped photograph. He can’t remember her face, not entirely, but he remembers wild red curls, a soft smile and bits of a lullaby she used to sing to him before she got sick. He remembers seashells lining the windowsills and dozens of homespun yard balls that used to litter the floor around her bed.

His fingers brush against the blue hat resting on top of Harrison’s riot of hair. It looked so much like the hats his mother used to pull over his head during the wintertime, ensuring that they covered his ears before sending him to school. Even when she was sick, she make him bend over the bed so she could do it, despite the shakiness in her hands.

An unexpected bubble of emotion rises at the thought.

“She would have made you a bunch of hats…just like this one…” he chuckles wetly. The pain is sharp as he uses his thumb to tug knit down gently over his son’s ears. “Though, where did you get this? I don’t remember you getting anything like this. I’ve washed your clothes twice yesterday in preparation for your arrival and I don’t recall seeing it in the wash.”

“Don’t you know? Babies come with hats.”

Killian swears softly under his breath as he turns to see his wife awake. She’s pulled herself into a sitting position, her fingers playing with the knit of her hospital blankets as she looks at him with amused smile.

“Babies come with hats?” he repeats, though it comes out like a question.

“They do,” she tells him with laughing eyes. “It’s a kind of special magic they have.”

“You’re having me on.”

“I would never.”

“You would,” he says with a soft laugh. “You love teasing me.”

“Only because you make it so easy.”

 “Well, now, I feel abused,” he pouts playfully. He’s exhausted but Zeus will strike him dead before he misses an opportunity to flirt with his wife.

Emma snorts in response. “Push a ten-pound human out of your body and then you can talk to me about abuse.”

“Can’t argue with you there.”

“Good,” she says. “Now bring me that ten-pound human and his magical hat over here. He’s gonna wanna eat soon.”

“As you wish.” He attempts to give her a wink as he crosses the room with their son in his arms. If he’s a little slower than he would normally be, well, he’s just being cautious. He has precious cargo after all.

“You think you’re being cute.”

“I prefer to think I’m dashing.”

He places Harrison in his wife’s arms, feeling slightly bereft at the loss of his weight. It’s only a brief moment, however. It’s replaced with an overwhelming feeling of love at the sight of his wife and his son together. 

“He’s still asleep. How is he still asleep? Isn’t he supposed to be all weepy and crying and poopy?”

“He’s only six hours, thirty-seven minutes and…ten seconds old, Swan. Give him some time and he’ll be the crying weepy pooping mess you’re looking for.”

“Are you seriously counting the seconds he’s been alive?” she asks with a laugh, bracing Harrison against his chest so she can hit him lightly against the chest. “You’re a freak!”

“Give me a break, love, it’s been quite a momentous occasion.”

“I know,” she responds with a roll of her eyes. “I’m the one who pushed him out of my vagina.”

“So, you keep reminding me.”

“He’s huge, Killian. Look at him.”

“So you say…but he looks impossibly small…little…we made a little person, Emma.”

“I know.” Her smile is tired but blinding and she looks like the sun. “And he’s perfect.”

He leans forward and brushes his hand against the duck-print blanket where his son’s toes are bundled up. He just can’t stand the idea of not touching him anymore. Harrison’s leg shifts a bit under his touch and his heart skips a little.

“I heard you talking to him by the way…” she starts, trailing off as she gives him an uncertain look.

“Oh?”

“You were talking about your mom…”

“I was,” he responds lightly, trying not to tense up.

“You never talk about her…”

“It’s hard to talk about someone you barely remember…she died when I was young…”

“How old were you?”

“Roughly six-years old.”

“That is young…” Emma murmurs, shifting her hold on Harrison so her hand brushes against his. He can’t help but close his eyes at feel of her thumb brushing gently against her knuckles. “What exactly do you remember about her?”

“Not much.”

“Try,” she says softly, squeezing his hand. “Tell your son about his grandmother.”

“He’s six hours, forty-five minutes and nineteen seconds old, Swan. He’s not going to remember this.”

“It’s a little creepy that you keep counting like that, but just try.”

“I don’t know where to begin…”

“What was her name?”

“Alice…Her name was Alice.”

“Alice is a pretty name.”

“It is and she was a pretty woman…She…I don’t remember much but her smile…She had a nice smile and red hair…”

“Red hair…like your beard…”

“Not entirely, but yeah…she had red hair…she used to tie it back in a ribbon…she preferred the blue ones…the ones that match her eyes…”

“So she’s the one we have to thank for your baby blues, huh?”

“Yeah…She is…”

“I like her more already,” Emma smiled, looking down at their son. Harrison was starting to wake up, already rooting and whimpering. She shifts her scrub top in preparation of nursing him. “What else?”

“She…she liked to collect sea glass, shells and the like…she made a path once with beach pebbles and she loved the sea…she taught Liam how to swim…and I think she would have taught me too if she wasn’t so sick…”

“I’m sorry that you lost that.”

“It’s fine, it wasn’t her fault and it wasn’t like she wasn’t there…she found other ways to be with us…she used to make us things…hats, blankets, sweaters, pillows…she once made me a dog out of rags.”

“She sounds amazing…”

“She was amazing, and she would have loved him…and she would have made him a better hat. A green one to match his mother’s eyes.”

“Cute, but don’t tell Granny that. She makes them for the hospital.”

“Granny made his hat?”

“Yes, but not specifically for him. She makes them for the hospital so they can give them to all the newborns because babies come with hats.”

“Six hours, fifty-one minutes and twenty-one seconds old and he already has a hat.”

She laughs, leaning over to kiss his cheek before adding, “Like I said babies come with hats.”

[shireness-says]

A Reflection on Hats

Summary: There are some things you don't understand understand until you become a parent. ~1K. Rated G. Also on AO3.

~~~~~

A/N: A few days ago, @justanotherwannabeclassic was talking about how much she wanted a thousand fics with the “babies come with hats” bit from The West Wing. I’m only too happy to oblige. Your move, @distant-rose. 

Set in my 5B divergence ‘verse, though it’s not particularly necessary to have read that. Tagging @snidgetsafan and @thisonesatellite because they wanted it. 

Enjoy!

~~~~~

Killian doesn’t have a lot of experience with babies - or any, really. He’s a pirate, after all, not a nursemaid; it’s not that surprising.

There seems to be some expectation, however, that after the role Killian played in rescuing the littlest Nolan from Zelena’s clutches, he’ll want hold the baby and coo at the baby and whatever else one does with babies. He doesn’t know. Again, not his area of expertise. All he knows is that Dave seems insistent on showing off his infant, and Killian is running out of appreciative noises.

“You look a little overwhelmed,” the prince comments after his third offer for Killian to take a turn holding the little lad. 

“That’s one word for it,” Killian mutters not nearly far enough under his breath, still staring nervously at the blue-hatted bundle in the other man’s arms.

“Well, what’s so overwhelming about it then?” David asks. He’s being shockingly patient about the whole thing, but Killian still rather wishes he’d just shut up. 

But put on the spot with that calm, understanding voice, Killian can’t just not answer. It’d be ruder than anything he has to say. Frantically, his mind whirs through all the different things he could offer without causing too much offense. 

Not that it works. Instead of saying something normal, Killian instead blurts out, “The hats!”

He absolutely deserves the confused look David offers him. “You’re overwhelmed because of… the hats?”

“Not overwhelmed,” Killian backtracks, “they’re just… bizarre. What’s the point of them?” He’d originally assumed on their quest to retrieve the baby from the Wicked Witch that she’d put the hat on him herself in an unusually kind gesture against the cold. Now that they’re safely back at the hospital, however, Killian has seen in the nursery that all the infants have these ridiculous knit hats on. Just another pointless convention in the Land Without Magic, he supposes.

“To keep his ears warm,” David replies in a tone that suggests it’s obvious. Honestly, it might be, now that someone has said it out loud.

Never let it be said, though, that Killian Jones doesn’t buckle down under pressure. It might be said that sheer bullheadedness is one of his strongest traits - or at least one of his most obvious. “Was that such an issue back in the Enchanted Forest?” he asks stubbornly. “I don’t remember these at all before - it certainly seemed like just a blanket was enough - but here… what, do babies come with hats?”

David laughs. “I mean, it’s not like a free gift with purchase or they’re born already wearing one, but yeah, it’s kind of a thing in hospitals in this world. Baby’s born, put them in a pink or blue hat. It’s cute. I think you’re kind of overthinking it.”

“I still don’t see the point,” Killian says, just to get the last word in. “Regardless, he’s a handsome lad. You and the lady Snow must be very proud.”

“Thank you. We are,” David beams. The sheer love is so obvious on his face as he gazes down at his son, gently bouncing the as-yet-unnamed boy as he starts to wake and fuss. “And it’ll all make sense one day. You’ll understand.”

Killian doubts that. Currently, his prospects of future children seem bleak. Emma has made it very obvious that she intends to return to New York now that the latest crisis is resolved, taking any chance he might have had at romance along with her. It took him hundreds of years to get over his first love; the chance of him finding someone else after Emma leaves is slim to none, especially since he knows in some concrete way, right down to his very bones and soul, that Emma Swan is It for him. Capital letters and proclamations she doesn’t want to hear and all.

No, the chances of him magically understanding what David is talking about some day are slim to none.

———

He should have counted on David’s ability to multitask: meeting his new granddaughter and gloating to Killian, all at once. Not that Killian particularly notices; he’s too busy trying to make sure that the ridiculous hat is pulled down securely over her little pointed ears and soft tufts of hair. She’s alternately a flailing mess of limbs and an utterly limp and squishy bundle, and Killian has never been more smitten.

“Congratulations!” David enthuses, leaning over to see Charlotte’s little face more clearly as Snow moves to fuss over Emma. “Welcome to the club, Dad.”

“Thanks,” Killian grins back. Gods above, he can’t stop smiling. “It feels great to be here.”

“I’ll bet.” 

There’s a beat of silence as his wee lass shakes with a little sneeze and both men move to secure the blankets more securely around her body. Killian can’t help but smooth his hand along the hat again, making sure everything is covered. 

David laughs a little when he sees it. “So, you get it now?”

Killian furrows his brows in confusion at first; in a moment like this, it’s a little hard to remember years-old debates. When he does remember, though, he huffs his own laugh through his nose. “Aye. Well, maybe not entirely. I still think the hats are a little ridiculous and not altogether necessary.”

“But…?”

“But… well, it’s like a promise, isn’t it?” Killian asks, looking at the prince for confirmation. “As a parent, you promise to keep your child safe and loved and warm. And it starts with a hat.”

“Honestly, I just meant how cute they look in the hat,” David admits, “but… wow. Yeah. Deep. That too, I guess.”

“If I’m not careful, people will think I’ve gone soft,” Killian winks. He’s not serious, of course, not in the least; if he has gone soft (and he seriously doubts that that’s the case, now that he has something so precious to protect), he couldn’t care less about what other people think about it.

“Kids will do that,” David nods sagely. “But if that’s the price to pay… it’s still worth it. Every day.”

With his newborn daughter safely cradled in his arms, Killian doesn’t doubt that for a second. 

[hookedonapirate]

Okay, now I need to see this as a cs fic 😆

[vanillatwilight17]

A New Beginning

Summary: A year after their happy beginning started, Emma and Killian discover they have a baby on the way and face a brand new beginning together as parents.

Disclaimer: I do not own OUAT, CS, or any of the characters this is all for fun!

Link to FF.net (chapter 2 is up on FF!) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12513116/1/A-New-Beginning

Chapter 1: 2-1 =3

A year of a quiet, normal life. That is what had been granted to Emma and Killian Jones since they said their vows on the rooftops of Granny's. Well, after that whole final battle, black fairy, curse bullshit. They had gone on an amazing honeymoon together once they were sure, or as sure as you could be in Storybrooke that nothing bad, evil, wicked, or dark was going to happen. They had set sail on the Jolly Roger all the way down the coast of the United States and around the Caribbean and back. The trip had taken about a month and Emma was pretty sure it was the best thirty days of her life. Aside from missing her son terribly (nothing a nightly facetime couldn't fix though), the entire trip was perfect. She had been reluctant to leave for such a long period of time. What if the town needed saving? But her parents, Regina, Zelena, and Gold all assured her they could handle anything that came their way and truth be told she was long overdue for a vacation. So off the newlyweds set sail and for the first time since Henry had brought her to Storybrooke there was nothing threating her or her family, no curse causing everyone to forget things or separate them into separate realms. It was just husband and wife, enjoying the prospect of a new future together.

Now as Emma sat on the counter in the bathroom, eyes going back and forth between the timer on her phone and the pregnancy test next to her, she was coming to terms with the idea that this new routine of calm, peaceful, day to day life she and Killian had molded so easily into could be quickly coming to a close. They had talked about this once, drunk off rum and each other while floating off the coast of Barbados during their honeymoon. They were lying together on a hammock strung up on deck. She had her head resting on his chest, with his arm around her as they sipped straight out of a bottle of local island spirits they had picked up that day. They were going back and forth talking about their new future together and where they saw themselves going in the years to come. It was Killian that brought it up. It came after he had mentioned trading her "yellow metal death trap on wheels" for a nice family car. She playfully swatted at his chest.

"First of all don't talk about my baby like that! Second of all, in what realm would we trade in the bug for a family car?" Emma joked, throwing back a swig of rum.

"For the safety of an actual baby." He replied to her. She spit out the rum she had just drunk and turned to face him.

"Excuse me? Do you know something I don't know?" Emma asked.

"I'm sorry love, I shouldn't have brought it up. You've got Henry and I'm sure at this point in your life another child is the farthest thing from your mind, it's just ever since the prophecy of the final battle and thinking about our future, I always see this little girl, spitting image of her gorgeous mother running around the house. I know I should have talked to you about it first, just forget I said anything." Killian got up and started to walk away looking like a kid who just found out Santa wasn't real. She certainly was taken back but not in the way he thought. Truth was, he wasn't the only one who had these thoughts.

"Why can't it be a little boy who looks just like you? More importantly why can't we just get another car instead of getting rid of mine?" She said sitting up in the hammock.

"Wait, you would want to have another child?" He asked turning back to her.

"It has been a thought in my mind ever since I saw you with Alexandra that day at Granny's. You were so natural with her and you are an incredible with Henry and my brother and whenever I see you with them I just always picture you with our child. I never thought about having more kids until you came into my life and this new beginning we have became a reality. I just always assumed something would get in the way and prevent it from happening but I would definitely say that's something we can put on the to do list." Killian ran over and kissed her passionately.

"Whenever you want to love just say the word." He said through kisses.

"One day there shall be a little pirate running around this deck, right now, I just want you all to myself." Emma returned his kisses and as clothes were shed so was the idea of their little pirate.

That was until last night when Emma finally put two and two together. For the past three weeks she had been nauseas, throwing up, exhausted, things smelled weird, the smallest things made her emotional. It wasn't until she had been in the grocery store shopping for the week telling Henry to go and grab some popcorn and meet her in the front and she walked by the feminine needs aisle that it dawned on her. She had never gotten her period that month. She flipped through her calendar on her phone and sure enough, two weeks ago her period was supposed to start and it never did. And just like that, it hit her like a ton of bricks.

"Oh…shit." She had said out loud. She immediately turned her cart down the aisle and grabbed three pregnancy tests. She buried them underneath the broccoli and went to meet her son at the cash register. Luckily, Henry was so engrossed in whatever was on his phone that he didn't pay much attention to anything that was being purchased. As soon as she got home Emma hid the tests under the sink and tried to come up with any other excuse for what was going on with her. She had managed to make herself believe that she had some sort of bug that was messing with her body's natural cycle until 4AM when a wave of nausea hit her like a truck and she barely made it to the bathroom before her dinner was making its way back up. Killian was with her in a second, holding her hair back with his hook and rubbing her back with his good hand.

"I really think you should call the doctor tomorrow love, you've been going on like this for three weeks, something is clearly wrong." Emma wanted to tell him right then and there but she didn't want to go down that road before she took a test. She simply nodded in return taking the washcloth he offered her to wipe off her face. Killian helped her to her feet and pulled her in close to him

"I got puke in my hair you probably really don't want to be doing that."

"There is nothing you could do to yourself that would make me not want to be there to comfort you in a time of need." He said kissing her forehead.

Yea…wait a few months from now when I'm screaming at you and a watermelon is flying out of me. Emma thought to herself. "Head back to bed, I'm just gonna brush my teeth and I'll be there in a minute." As she stood there brushing her teeth she couldn't help but think about that moment of their child entering the world again and knowing that despite whatever she said to him or how unpleasant the situation got, he would be there. He would never leave her, he would be there to support her one hundred percent of the way. It was in that moment that she thought about the pregnancy tests hiding under the sink and that whatever results they showed her it didn't matter. She could do this because she had him. They could do this.

"Seriously love, call the doctor tomorrow. Your father and I can handle everything down at the station, take the day off and rest." Killian said, opening his arms to her as she got back in bed.

"Alright." She replied snuggling into him.

"Alright? That's it? No fighting? You really must be ill. My Emma would never go to the doctor willingly." He said playfully, putting his hand on her forehead to mock take her temperature.

"You're right, three weeks is a long time and this way I can get you and my parents off my back and prove to you its just a bug and it will pass." Truth be told she was going to take the time alone while he was at work and Henry at school to take those tests and get an answer once and for all.

BUZZ BUZZZ BUZZ the ringing of the timer on her phone brought Emma back to reality. She hadn't dared to look at it yet, she took a deep breath and held up the test. PREGNANT. The results were clear as day and were consistent with the next two tests she took.

"Ok. Oh shit. Ok." She said out loud to herself. "Breathe." She told herself trying to calm her racing heart. She was pregnant, with her second unplanned pregnancy. Maybe she was one of those people who was just never supposed to have a planned baby. The next forty-five minutes went by as kind of a blur to Emma. It wasn't until Killian called her and asked if she had managed to get into the doctor yet or not that she snapped back to reality. She picked up the phone and found herself dialing Dr. Whale's office.

"Dr. Whale's office, how may I help you today?" said a receptionists voice over the phone.

"I need to set up an appointment please." Emma said

"What brings you in for the appointment ma'am?"

"Ummm…I think I might be pre…pregnant." Emma stumbled over the word. Saying it out loud made it seem so much more real.

"Ok. Are you a new patient? Can I have your name please?"

"Oh I'm not a new patient, I've been treated by Dr. Whale before, my name is Emma Jones."

"Oh Mrs. Jones, congratulations! Would you prefer morning or afternoon?" This was the problem with living in a small town. Everyone knew you and keeping secrets was even harder.

"Morning would be better."

"I have a 7:30?"

"Sounds good to me. See you then."

Got an appointment 7:30 tomorrow morning. Emma texted Killian as she collapsed on the couch, her hands unconsciously coming to rest on her stomach. She was pregnant. She was going to be a mother again. This time from the beginning, she was going to be there for every late night feeding, every smile, every milestone, everything. She started rubbing her stomach and noticed she was smiling. As frightened as she was about becoming a mother again she was even more excited. The best part was that this time she wasn't going to be alone. She was going to have her incredible, loving, and supportive husband there for her and this baby from day one. He would refuse to miss a minute of any it with them and Emma knew if he wasn't at that appointment tomorrow when they found out for sure he would be beyond upset. Which means she was going to have to tell him, tonight.

A glance at the clock told Emma she had five hours to get everything set up before Killian got home from work. First thing she did was text Regina and ask if she could pick up Henry from school and keep him at her place tonight. She played it off as she was planning a last minute date night for her and Killian. She wanted Henry to have his own special surprise reveal. She went to the store and got necessary items and barely finished setting up at home before Killian made it home.

"Emma?" Killian called out as he entered the house.

"In the living room." She answered back from the couch. He appeared in the room wearing a smile and carrying a bag with the grease seeping through.

"Grilled cheese and onion rings to help aid in the healing process." He said setting the bag down on the table and leaning down to kiss her head.

"You know me too well. I got you a surprise today as well." She said as they started to eat their dinner.

"Oh really? Why did you go off and do a thing like that for love?"

"Because I love you, and I wanted to get you a present."

"Well I love you too and I can think of nothing you could give me that I don't already have."

"Really? There is nothing that could make your life any better?"

"I've got everything I could ever want right here." He said rubbing noses with her and places a gentle kiss on her lips. Old habits and fears kicked in and Emma started to worry that maybe what he had said that night on the honeymoon was just drunken rambling. He had no desires to expand their family and have children with her. What if he rejected her and the baby and left? No, Killian would never do that. She shut down the fears and refocused herself. She pulled a box with a ribbon tied around it out from behind her and handed it to him before she totally lost her nerve.

"Well thank you love, but again you really didn't have to. Shall I open it now?" Emma nodded, her heart racing in her chest as be started to pull the ribbon off. Inside the box was a beautiful pocket watch. The front of it had a ship's steering wheel on it and was engraved:

5/7/2017

1+1=2

E+K

"It's beautiful love, that was the happiest day of my life, the day I married you." Killian said looking up from the watch.

"Mine too, open it!" Emma said, the moment of truth drawing near as she watched his fingers slide the latch to open the watch. Inside on the right was a beautiful watch, with a ship as the center piece on the left was a second inscription.

February 2018

2+1 = 3

E+K + Baby Jones

Emma kept her eyes focused on Killian's face. His face unmoving and his eyes focused on the engraving, reading it three, four, five times before finally looking up to meet her gaze.

"Emma….are you…?" he was unable to finish the sentence, tears coming into his eyes and a smile starting to form in the corners of his mouth, too afraid.

"I'm pregnant. Killian, we're going to have a baby!" She said smile so big it hurt, unable to stop the tears from flowing. He immediately jumped up, pulling her with him and spinning her around before pulling her close to him.

"We're really going to have a baby love?" He asked her again, smiling so wide she was worried it might get stuck that way.

"We are! Are you ok with this?"

"Am I ok with it? Are you crazy I'm over the moon about it! I've wanted this for a long time and now it's finally happening." He said kissing all over her face.

"Then why haven't you said anything?"

"I told you that night on our honeymoon that I wanted to have a child with you but I was going to wait for you to say the word. Your happiness is everything to me Emma, and I never wanted to push you into something you weren't ready for. Much like when I wanted desperately to move in with you and progress our relationship I knew that in time things would work itself out and sure enough you asked me on your own when you were ready. How did this even happen?" "Well you see when two people love each other very much…"

"I know how it happens in that sense, I meant I thought you said that pill you take prevents this from happening?"

"It's not 100% effective and certain things can interfere with it? Remember just before our anniversary when I got that ear infection and had to take antibiotics? Well a side effect of them is they can make birth control pills less effective. I should have been more diligent about using extra protection I'm sorry." She said.

"Don't be sorry love, I'm glad you weren't. Unless….you aren't happy about this?" He asked, looking slightly worried.

"Of course I'm happy about it! I'm scared to death but I'm beyond happy about it."

"You don't have anything to be scared of love." He said stroking her face

"How not? There is going to be this little person in the world who is half you and half me and will be dependent on us for literally everything. I didn't start raising Henry until he was ten. This is going to be a first for me and I'm scared I'm going to mess up, I'm not going to be everything this baby needs me to be, deserves me to be, and I'm scared that you're going to get spooked and leave and…." Killian stopped her right there with a kiss and pulled back with hand still on her face.

"Never, for one second do I want you doubt your abilities as a mother. You are amazing with Henry and he absolutely adores you. You are in a totally different place in your life now and you are ready for this. This baby is going to be the luckiest child I know to have you as its mother. I also never want you to think I would ever leave you. I know you were alone the last time this happened but not this time. I am going to be there with you through every step of this." At this point Emma was crying again and she wrapped her arms around him.

"Good, I have a doctor's appointment in the morning with Dr. Whale would you like to come?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world love." Killian said, bringing her in for a kiss and resting his hand on her stomach protectively. They both sat down to finish their dinner, excited for the days ahead.

A/N: Please review and let me know what you think!