#cs werewolf au mc

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: @cssns19 MC "Face to Face in the Broad Daylight"

(This week in reruns celebrating previous @cssns works, we have a sequel to my werewolf, alternate season two and beyond fic from 2018’s @cssns offering. This one partially exists just because I wanted to revisit these couples and enjoy a bit more of their fluffy happily ever afters. However, they also get into some new surprises and challenges, and: is Rumplestiltskin still under control, or is he back to his usual scheming and plotting? If you weren't around back then, I hope you will give this a try and enjoy.  If you read it back then and choose to revisit it, I hope you'll enjoy the walk down memory lane!! Either way, I'd love to hear what you think!

Complete in 9 Parts

(Thanks once again to @branlovestowrite for the stunningly lovely cover art she did for this story as well. I still absolutely love it!!)

Also available on AO3 if that's your preference...

Summary: After finding one another and triumphing against the machinations of the Evil Queen and the Queen of Hearts, Killian and Emma, and their friends and family are ready to enjoy the happiness they've earned. However, a new threat is about to rise that may put those happy beginnings in grave jeopardy.

by: @snowbellewells

~~ prologue: altogether in one place

As a cooling breeze blew in off the water of the harbor to combat the bright heat of an early May afternoon, Killian Jones smiled easily, enjoying the trace of air over his neck and ruffling his dark hair as he headed back up the street from the docks toward the center of town. It was a perfect day for the celebration he was on his way to attend, planning to meet Emma and Henry at the pretty little two bedroom cottage not far from the harbor that they moved into some weeks past, before the three of them walked the rest of the way to Granny’s together. The rest of their family and several friends were doubtless already gathering at the diner’s outdoor tables for the planned picnic. It was Mother’s Day, and the first which Emma would be able to spend with her mother, and with her boy as well. Killian smiled fondly at the tentative joy mixed with nervous anticipation on his love’s face as they’d spoken of it laying side-by-side that very morning. His heart had warmed right along with dawn’s first rays peeking through the curtains, glad that Emma could have her loved ones surrounding her, as she always should have. Though his own mother had been gone so long that he only retained the barest memories of a gentle voice singing to him and the twinkle in kind, loving eyes, he still felt not a fiber of his being to be jealous or begrudging of the wealth of love and belonging his lady had found. Emma deserved it all, and more besides.

It helped, he admitted to himself as he neared the front walk, their yard surrounded by white picket fence that he could now see Emma leaning on casually with Henry at her side, that he too had been welcomed into the fold gladly. With the wolf born inside him, his horribly checkered and painful history, and how long he had wandered alone in the world, Killian could never have imagined being accepted as a part of something so good, nor feeling that he mattered to others again. Despite his stunned disbelief, however, he could only continue to be grateful.

As he drew nearer, Henry caught sight of him and waved enthusiastically, a wide grin stretching across his face. “Hey, Killian!” the youth called out. “Are you ready for this?”

“Aye, lad, of course,” he answered with a chuckle, smiling to Emma as well, his heart swelling still further at the blush which rose on her cheeks as he waggled his eyebrows playfully. He turned his attention back to Henry quickly, not wanting the young man to feel dismissed, but instead leaning forward to whisper secretively to Henry, “We wouldn’t want to miss your grandma’s famed cherry chess pie, now would we?”

Henry agreed emphatically with Killian’s winking query, then scampered on ahead of them as Killian pulled Emma into a quick embrace while she stretched up to press a chaste kiss to his lips before they joined hands and followed her son the rest of the way to Granny’s before they were late.

Not many minutes later they were turning into the front seating area of the diner, entering under the arch and being greeted from all sides by family and friends. Ruby bounded over to gleefully wrap Emma in an exuberant hug, whispering in his love’s ear that she wanted to hear what they’d been up to at the new house in a blatant enough way to have the blond blushing once again. Killian followed Henry’s urging over to his grandparents’ table, shaking David’s hand and easing into conversation with Emma’s father thankfully.

He liked the people gathered around him very much, but so often in the past he had kept to the shadows, on the outskirts of society, either due to prejudice and ostracism or his own attempts to insure others’ safety from the beast within him. Having at last found his home in Storybrooke, and also a peace within himself that he had rarely known, Killian felt as stable as he had ever been in both parts of himself. His wolf had room and freedom to run, even a pack of sorts with Ruby and Graham nearby, and he rarely feared the howling need to break free he had sought to hide or contain in his youth and throughout his years of bitter, aimless wandering.  All that being true, he still sometimes preferred to ease into larger groups one person at a time. Once Emma’s slightly overprotective and traditional father had gotten to know him, Killian found the man quite easy to talk to and good company, so he naturally went to speak with him first.

Their friendship hadn’t taken long to develop once things had settled down around the holidays, some six months ago, after Regina, Cora, and Rumplestiltskin’s defeat. Both David and Killian served as reinforcements to the sheriff’s department when needed (though in sleepy, calm Storybrooke they rarely were) and so had spent many long afternoons when there were no calls sharing long chats, wadded up paper ball free throw contests in the desk trash cans, endless one-upping games of darts, and - if they grew truly desperate - filing of the somehow never ending stacks of paperwork. Their little town had been free of most trouble beyond cats in trees and neighboring fairy tale characters’ squabbles since Thanksgiving. None of them had forgotten that Gold was still simmering impotently in his shop (surely wanting revenge, but hands tied by the fact that his dagger forbade it, thanks to Emma’s brilliance).  In fact, the citizens were enjoying an everyday normality most of them had never been able to experience before - in either this realm or the Enchanted Forest.

So, though there was often hardly enough work to keep one person busy, Graham had remained Sheriff, and kept Emma on as his deputy. Killian’s eyes found his sandy-haired fellow wolf amidst the happy crowd of partygoers, attentively leaning to whisper something in Belle’s ear where she sat talking to Granny Lucas herself, along with Nova, Leroy, Bashful, and Doc. The Sheriff was clearly happy to watch over his girlfriend, glad just to see her in high spirits, having brought her a drink and standing behind her chair to listen and look on. Graham had always been a good and competent lawman, but now that he was completely free to act of his own will and as he saw fit, it became even more clear just how kind, compassionate, and worthy a man he was. He no longer had to glance over his shoulder at each turn, fearing retribution for his choices. The townspeople liked and trusted him even more than they had before, seeing how dedicated he was to their causes and thorough in handling problems immediately and lawfully for the good of all to the best of his ability.

Watching just a moment longer, Killian saw Belle pause in her conversation, looking up over her shoulder at Graham with an adoring expression in her eyes, resting her hand over his where he had placed it on her shoulder. Something passed between them wordlessly, so slight that it went unnoticed by most around them, but to Kilian’s honed and heightened senses, it sent almost a frisson of intense feeling all the way across the space to where he stood. He didn’t know what it meant, but he found himself more than a little curious, and happy for his friends whatever the cause of their joy.

His attention was drawn back to his own immediate circle when David threw his head back in a booming burst of laughter as Henry finished relating how Killian had recently taken he, his mom, and his friends Grace, Nicholas and Ava out fishing and swimming on the Jolly. It wasn’t the first time Killian had dropped anchor in the harbor where the preteens could dive off the bow and bob in the waves to cool off while he and Emma sat in the sun watching over them and talking, but what had gotten such a reaction from his grandpa was the mental image of Ava’s disastrous practice at casting and somehow catching her hook in Grace’s hair. The ensuing noisy melee had caused quite a commotion until they’d gotten Grace free from the painful tangle, reassured Ava that they all knew it was an accident and gotten back to catching fish rather than each other.

As the afternoon wore on, Killian relaxed into the atmosphere of easy camaraderie around him, graciously complimenting his hostess on the lightness of her dinner rolls and the fine quality of her rum - to which he earned a sniff of begrudging thanks but also a sidelong smile. He exchanged a few words with Belle on the last book she had recommended to him and what he thought of it so far, and though she carried an obvious glow of satisfaction and practically radiated good humor, he was no closer to the reason that it seemed so especially prominent today, even after conversing with her. He exchanged pleasantries with Graham, and let Henry drag him into a ridiculous game of Pin the Tail on the Donkey that Snow had organized to hilarious results with the assorted dwarves’ poor aim and inebriated states by that hour of the waning day.

Despite what else he was doing however, his eyes were continually drawn back to Emma wherever she was. There was the simple fact that he couldn’t help but marvel at her beauty, for one thing. Her golden hair stood out like a beacon in any gathering, this one no exception, and the very sight of those flowing waves cascading down her back against the red leather of her favorite jacket made his hand itch to brush through its silky softness.  Her long, lean form, her throaty chuckle, and the sparkle in her jade green eyes all made hunger rise in him that had him aching to pull her out of the party and into the first empty room he could find. A long life of practice made him able to rein in his desires, but it certainly didn’t slake them in the least.

He remembered too that it was nearing the full moon, which made all his more canine traits closer to the surface. As intensely protective as he would have been anyway, because he loved her, the animal instinct within demanded he be aware of his mate and her safety at all times. Especially when they were out in the open and not alone, whether or not those with them were friends and the gathering innocent. There was possessiveness as well that he could contain, but not vanquish completely. Between those two impulses warring inside his average human faćade, Killian was rather proud of himself for managing to eventually retreat to a corner table with his drink, lean back in a chair and observe the goings on around him with at least the air of calm.

Still, needless to say, he was relieved when the festivities did begin to break up an hour or so later. Many called out a friendly goodbye to him, and he waved back jovially to them.  Some, like David, came over to say ‘good night’ and make plans for when they’d get together next. When Emma finally came up to him with an easy smile and an outstretched hand, asking him if he was ready to head home for the night with a teasing tilt of her head and playful “Captain?” he was on his feet in a moment. With Henry in tow, they headed back toward their house on the shore as the stars came out above.

A deep sense of satisfaction warmed Killian once again at the very idea that this could be his life, while Emma leaned into his side as they walked and Henry pointed out the various constellations that he had learned to recognize through Killian’s tutelage. It was more happiness than he once could have imagined having in his life on a regular basis. In a few days he would need to prepare for shifting about three nights in a row, as was his monthly due, but for tonight, he could sense it was still safely far enough off to take his time seeing the two most important people in his life home safely and enjoy that they saw him as one of their own.

Once they reached the front gate, Henry hurried on up the walk and into the house with a “See you tomorrow!” for his mom’s boyfriend. Alone at long last, Emma turned to him, her face tilted up to his with a devious glimmer in her expression. Only moments ago, he wouldn’t have imagined things could get much better, but when she ran her hands up his torso to rest on his chest and whispered invitingly, “Wanna come in for a nightcap, Sailor?” she blew his mind all over again. 

A couple of drinks, an entire bowl of popcorn and a movie later, they were cuddled together on the couch in Emma’s living room, making out like two teenagers.  Killian didn’t leave his love’s arms again until the next day dawned. Slipping out to his boat before Henry could walk up and begin scavenging through the cupboards for his breakfast cereal, Killian stooped to place a kiss on Emma’s groggy forehead as she mumbled a sleepy farewell. No one else in the house was stirring as the former pirate headed away down the walk, and he was too cheerful and relaxed to be on his guard, so the eyes watching his every move from the shadows as he moved toward the docks, went unnoticed…

~~***~~***~~

Far removed from the cheerfulness and revelry of the rest of the town and their holiday celebrations, Mr. Gold was holed up in the dim, shrouded back room of his shop, scowling silently at a clouded orb with its contents swirling inside. He hadn’t bothered to unlock or open his shop doors today, not wanting to see the idiotic smiles of the townsfolk, nor to waste effort pasting on a smile and haggling to make sales that mattered little to him, all things considered. No, all that mattered now was possessing the one item which could free him of the Savior’s binding order stoppering his Dark One powers to set things right. He would be loosed of her interfering magical hold; it was merely a matter of tracing the artifact to its hiding place and summoning an accomplice he knew was powerful enough to aid him in the ritual needed to slip the noose of his Dagger’s control, and therefore Miss Swan’s meddling command.

All the pieces were in place; once the crystal showed him where his former compatriot could be found, he would set the ball rolling.  He would make Belle see sense, return her to her place by his side, where she clearly belonged. That Sheriff who had dared to try taking his place in Belle’s affections would rue ever having his heart put back in his chest. And that wretched cur ...that wolf he had nearly finished off before - and the woman who had prevented it, who had the audacity to tangle with him and think she could defeat the Dark One - both of them would pay, once and for all.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi

@jrob64 @apiratewhopines @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @xarandomdreamx

@motherkatereloyshipper @booksteaandtoomuchtv @anmylica @stahlop @myfearless-love

@teamhook @revanmeetra87 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @darkcolinodonorgasm

@elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @bluewildcatfanatic @xsajx

@undercaffinatednightmare @caught-in-the-filter @drowned-dreamer @jonesfandomfanatic @kday426

@lfh1226-linda @linda8084 @resident-of-storybrooke @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree

@belovedcreation @eddisfargo @zaharadessert @laianely @goforlaunchcee

[everlastingcaptainswan]

A Pinch of Magic, A Twist of Fate, and A Full Moon (4/?) Witch/Werewolf AU

Summary:  It has long been told that Emma would be the Savior to save the witches from Rumplestiltskin, the infamous witch hunter. In an unsuspected attack Rumplestiltskin catches Emma off guard and an unknown ally saves her from a certain death and suddenly she feels obligated to do the same for the stranger.

Ao3        FF 

This is my contribution to the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer! @cssns @kmomof4

The lovely artwork is thanks to @shady-swan-jones

Chapter 4: Plans and Assets 

Supper is a loud, noisy meal simply because of the number of people at the dining room table. Elsa engages herself in a conversation with Ruby and Anna in an attempt to avoid Liam. Robin keeps shooting Regina longing looks when he thinks no one is watching him. Killian unabashedly keeps glancing at Emma whenever she isn’t glancing at him. Roland and Henry are getting along well, talking too loud then what is appropriate, but no one feels the need to quiet them. Snow and David are quietly talking amongst themselves.

The sun goes down and the children start to get sleepy with Roland almost falling asleep at the table. Emma shares a look with Robin, who scoops Roland into his arms. Emma gets Henry’s attention.

“Come on, kid. It’s past your bedtime,” Emma tells him.

“Five more minutes,” Henry attempts to say through a yawn.

“I don’t think so, you can barely keep your eyes open. Let’s go,” she orders him. Despite his grumbles he follows his mother out of the dining room. Emma helps him get ready for bed and seeing how well the boys get along, Robin and her decide they should share a room. Once the boys are tucked in they leave them to join the others in the meeting.

“With the prophecy and all do you guys have a plan?” Liam asks when all of them have a seat at the table.

“Not exact details, but we need to corner him and disable him. We haven’t made any moves because the first part of the prophecy only came to pass a month ago,” David tells them. The pack waits patiently for someone to explain.

“The prophecy stated I wouldn’t defeat the dark one until I was twenty-eight, which I turned a month ago. We’ve been planning for sometime now. We have squid ink to immobilize him and then I come in to end him. What we lack is ever knowing where he is or having a sufficient enough distraction,” Emma tells them.

“We could set a trap and lure him out,” Robin suggests, looking around the table.

“We decided against that because we want to catch him unaware,” Regina says.

“If you set up a trap you can control the situation. He seems blood thirsty enough to be fooled into any trap you set,” Killian tells them.

“What did you have in mind exactly?” Snow asks him, pointedly.

“It would be helpful to know all of your abilities exactly. In order to know what kind of trap we can set,” Killian says looking at each of them.

“I’ll start, I’m an empath, I can sense someone’s emotions. I can’t imagine I’ll be much use to you,” Anna shrugs.

“Not so sure about that, can you control emotions of a person?” Liam asks.

“Well yes I can do that. Although it is frowned upon to do so,” she nods. Liam nods exchanging a look with Killian.

“It’s easier to show you what I can do,” Elsa says. She simply raises her hand and faces her palm toward the ceiling, snowflakes start falling from it. When the pack doesn’t look impressed Elsa creates a shard of ice and throws it just to the left of Liam’s head straight into the wall. Ruby laughs at Liam’s shocked expression.

“Oh yeah, we can use that,” Ruby chuckles. Regina creates a fireball and Robin’s eyes widen.

“I won’t throw this it will be a little too destructive,” Regina says with a smirk, “Emma and I can also transport ourselves from one location to the next.”

“Interesting and we can definitely use that,” Killian says. Snow sweeps her hand from left to right, brings forth a wine bottle and enough glasses for them.

“I have healing abilities as well. Should this turn ugly as we think it will,” Snow says, using her abilities to pour them all a glass of wine.

“I have a natural ability with animals, it’s how we’ve been so lucky with getting food even in the dead of winter. Other than that I’m rather good at hand to hand combat,” David tells the group. The pack nods. Emma emits some of her white light.

“Looks pretty, but it can hurt when I want it to,” Emma says, the light dissipating.

“You know what to do when you confront him?” Liam asks her.

“I know exactly what to do. Don’t worry about me,” she tells them. A somber tone falls over the room. Killian’s gaze is glued to Emma. He knows she’s holding something back, but doesn’t know what it is. Regina looks to Liam.

“You know what we can do now, so what’s your plan?” she asks him.  

“We’ll need to scout an ideal location, somewhere away from any unsuspecting people,” Liam answers her.

“We still need a good distraction, something to draw him out,” Ruby comments.

“I think that should be something to ponder on for tonight. It’s been a long day and we still have a lot of work to do. We all need a good night’s sleep,” Snow declares standing up, her husband grasps her hand. They all agree with the exhaustion weighing on them. Snow leaves and David follows behind her. Regina looks like she wants to say something, but she shakes her head, leaving as well. Emma finishes her glass of wine in one swift motion, wishing it was something stronger.

“Did we miss something?” Killian asks looking at the cousins remaining at the table.

“We have devoted so much of our lives to this fight and to have it be so close to the end well it’s difficult for everyone to process,” Elsa comments.

“Not to mention the moral implications,” Anna contributes.

“Good thing you won’t be killing him then,” Emma snaps, irritated by Anna’s innocence.

“Emma, you have light magic that’s meant for good. How is what we’re doing good?” Anna asks her, getting upset.

“You don’t think this is worth it? Don’t you want to go home? Aren’t you tired of living on the run? Aren’t you tired of him murdering us out of some misguided vengeance? We are getting rid of a great evil, what isn’t good about that?” Emma says getting angry, her hands starting to glow. The pack realizes what an important fight this is for everyone in this house, what they have all sacrificed to be here.

“Emma,” Elsa says looking at her cousin’s hands. Emma curses before shaking out her hands, the glowing stops.

“I make no apologies for what has to be done,” Emma says before leaving the room. Anna looks to Elsa.

“I’m going to bed, good night,” she tells the room before leaving. Elsa looks as if she doesn’t know what to do anymore.

“I’m sorry you all had to see that, tensions have been running high lately,” Elsa tells the room, cleaning up the glasses that everyone left behind.

“No worries, these things happen. Especially within families,” Liam says, jumping to help Elsa collect the glasses and follows her out of the room.

“Anyone have the feeling what we jumped into is much larger than what we thought it was,” Ruby muses out loud.

“Definitely, but that’s what makes it interesting,” Robin says with a smirk. Killian nods and tells them goodnight. He wants to find Emma, he knows she’s upset. While searching the rooms on the ground floor of the house Killian spots Emma in the garden looking over forest. He makes his way outside to stand next to her.

“Are you alright, love?” he asks her, wanting to reach out to touch her, but he stops himself.

“Anna has morality issues with this and it’s hard for her to accept that,” Emma says, not looking at him.

“I gathered as much, but I asked about you,” he says pointedly.

“I’m fine. I’ve prepared myself for this for a long time,” she says finally looking at him, with something akin to sadness in her eyes.

“Well, if you ever need to talk about it. I’m here,” he tells her. He’s not entirely sure why, but that pull he feels when she’s around is undeniable.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says a smile on her face.

“Ah that’s much better,” he says and she raises an eyebrow.

“What is?” she asks, curious.

“Your smile, much better than the frown that was masking your face,” he tells her. He desperately wants to reach out, place a hand on her cheek, and pull her in for a kiss. He stops himself, now isn’t the time for that.

She can’t stop thinking about him and his stupid lips. How soft and supple they look. How she wants them on hers so desperately. She never felt like this with Neal, not even once. She’s fighting so hard to deny this attraction, but in this moment she wants him.

“You don’t know me all that well how can you say that?” she says shaking her head.

“I don’t have to know you well to see you look much more beautiful with a smile,” he tells her.

“You seem like quite the charmer, I bet you say that to all the women you meet,” she says with a smirk.

“Ah yes all the many women I meet as a wolf in the forest,” he teases her. The moonlight shining down on them, providing dim lighting in the garden.

“You never know who you’ll find in the forest,” she smiles at him.

“You never do. I feel quite lucky to have met you,” he tells her his hand brushing hers.

“It does feel quite fortunate, something about fate and all that,” she says, blushing. He can no longer help it and his hand brushes her cheek. She closes her eyes and leans into his touch. He brings her closer until his lips brush against hers. Once then twice. She surges forward and captures his lips with hers. Gods he’s never had a kiss like this. He imagined kissing her all day, but this is something else. Emma’s hands grasp the lapels of his jacket. One of his hands tangles in her hair.

My god Emma has never had a kiss like this. A kiss full of passion and longing. She never knew a kiss could feel this good. She knows she should distance herself away from him, but my god kissing him shouldn’t feel as good as this. She’s entirely selfish in this moment. She wants this and him, even though it’s not fair to him at all.

When they pull apart and come up for air and rest their foreheads on each other. Emma realizes what a huge mistake she has made. She can’t kiss him. She can’t lead him on like this. He should kiss women who aren’t fated to die at the hands of the great evil.

“That was…” he says trailing off. She pulls away from him, shaking her head.

“I can’t, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have..” she says backing away.

“Emma?” he says confused. He knows she felt what he did. If she didn’t she would’ve stopped the kiss. She would’ve said something or shouted at him. She’s running because she’s scared.

“I can’t. Please wait five minutes until you go back inside the house,” she says all the while continuing to back up.

“As you wish,” he says briskly, he can’t stop her from running. No matter how badly he wants to. Emma turns around and runs into the house. She definitely shouldn’t have kissed him. That was a huge mistake. How could she do that to someone who wasn’t born into this hellish mess? Emma barrels into a room she’s sharing with Elsa and Anna. Elsa looks up from her bed and Anna does too.

“Are you okay?” Elsa asks. Emma just shakes her head.

“Nope, I’m definitely not,” Emma says her hand shaking as she runs it through her hair.

“I can feel the guilt and regret rolling off you. You want to talk about it?” Anna asks her. Emma shakes her head.

“Not yet,” she mumbles. The sisters nod, they’re used to waiting for Emma to open up to them. They’ve learned not to push her.

“We’re here when you’re ready,” Elsa tells her as Emma gets ready for bed. Emma just nods not knowing what to say. How to explain her terrible actions. She wouldn’t drag a good man down with her. It took awhile, but Emma eventually faded into sleep.

In the morning thankfully Henry is quite attached to her and requires a lot of her attention. She’s so distracted she misses how Killian is still gazing longing at Emma. How he’s not mad, just confused as to what went wrong. Liam and Elsa keep looking at each other then hurriedly looking away when they catch each other’s gaze. Robin gazing at Regina when he knows she’s not looking. Regina who is making a show of not looking at Robin.

“Is it me or do we have a bunch of love sick fools in here?” Snow says to David, who looks shocked by this.

“Who are you talking about?” he asks looking around the room.

“Oh you can be so dense sometimes,” Snow sighs, “When you see it you’ll know.” David looks confused, but glances around the table.

After breakfast Anna volunteers to distract the kids for the day, saying she’ll support any plan they come up with. That’s when things get hard for Emma because then she notices how Killian is looking at her and it breaks her heart. He’s not mad or angry, he’s still gazing at her like he always has with maybe a tinge of sadness.

“I’ve been thinking about the distraction and I think it should be me,” Regina tells the room.

“Why you?” Robin asks, curious.

“The Dark One and I have a little history. He knew my mother, he killed her. He would be able to trace my magic if we left a convincing trail,” Regina says.

“He can trace magic?” Ruby asks looking around.

“Why do you think we walked here? We could transport from place to place, but that’s how he tracked us at first. He came so close getting us a few times,” Snow tells them.

“When do we want to set this trap?” Emma asks the room, changing the subject.

“It should be the day of the full moon. We will be at our strongest and the most helpful to you then,” Killian answers her question forcing her to look at him finally. He’s more hurt then he cares to admit. Most of all curious as to what happened last night. What caused the change in Emma. It’s not hard to see she’s an strong, powerful, and beautiful women, but he doubts she sees that in herself. He wants to talk, but she’s avoiding his gaze.

“When is the full moon?” Emma asks him, trying to not let his gaze get to her. She knows there are things unsaid between them. There are questions he’s dying to ask her and she doesn’t want to give him the answers. He’s better off without her in his life. He’s better off with her at a distance.

“Two weeks,” he tells her. She finally breaks his gaze to look at Regina.

“Will that be enough time to set up a convincing trail?” she asks Regina.

“Yes, I’ll leave the week before. The trail will be small and hard to follow. He’ll need to believe that he was the only one who could pick up on it,” Regina says.

“So we have a week to scout out a good location to have this fight,” Liam says and David nods.

“We’ll start today then,” Killian says and Liam agrees. The meeting breaks up, the wolves shifting in the yard before they set off. Killian walks out the room without as much as a goodbye. Maybe he’s finally upset with Emma, but that’s good it’s how it should be.

Regina heads to their library to do some more research. Emma glares out of the window in the parlor. Elsa strides up next to her.

“I know you’re not ready to talk about whatever happened, but I need to talk to you,” Elsa says quietly. Emma turns to her concerned.

“What’s wrong?” Emma asks, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I think you’re right. I think he’s my true love,” is all she says at first. Emma smirks.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Emma comments.

“Witches, we’re more intune with ourselves, with our bodies. We know when a change occurs, we can sense it. What if he doesn’t feel what I feel or he doesn’t know what it means?” Elsa asks quickly her panic causing snow to fall. Emma takes her hand and the snow stops.

“He may have not accepted it yet or he doesn’t know what it is. I doubt either one of those things changes how he feels about you. What caused this panic in you?” Emma asks skeptical.

“Nothing really. He helped me clean up last night and we were talking then at some point we started holding hands as he walked me to my room. He said he wanted to get to know me and kissed my hand before walking away. All rather tame I’m afraid,” she shrugs.

“It can’t be that tame if you’re panicking, what else happened?” Emma asked again, knowing her cousin was holding back. Elsa takes her time before answering.

“Something snapped into place or perhaps the pull between us was so strong, but all I know he’s the only one for me,” she tells Emma, who smiles.

“When you know you know. Men are usually the last to know when a woman wants them, so give him time to catch up,” She comforts Elsa. They look over the view that the house provides for a few minutes pondering everything happening in their lives.

“I’ve made a mistake,” Emma almost whispers.

“What?” Elsa asks, wondering if she heard her cousin correctly.

“I’ve made a mistake,” Emma repeats herself.

“What happened?” Elsa asks, calmly.

“I kissed Killian,” she says quietly.

“I knew I wasn’t the only one who was interested in a Jones brother. Why would-” Elsa’s train of thought stops and catches up to Emma’s, “Oh no, Emma. I’m so sorry.”

“It was impulsive and in the moment. I just got swept away. I feel like he sees me and understands me. It’s never been like that with anyone outside the coven. He does it with such ease. Elsa, the kiss… there is nothing that can compare,” Emma tells her tears in her eyes.

“They don’t know about your fate,” Elsa says, unsure. Emma shakes her head.

“I shouldn’t have kissed him. It was reckless. I can’t lead him on knowing that I’ll die. It wouldn’t be fair to him,” she whispers.

“Maybe he should get to decide. Maybe to him loving you would be worth it. They should know the truth anyway with this plan of ours,” she tells her cousin. Her words may not be what Emma wants to hear, but they are what she needs to hear. Emma wipes away the single tear the has fallen down her face.

“Thank you. I’ll have to think about it,” Emma nods. She makes sure she is presentable before going in to see Henry and Roland. She helps Anna out with their lesson for the day. Spending time with Henry is her greatest joy. She wants to create good moments with him because soon she’ll be gone and he will only have those moments to remember her by.

Thanks for reading!

[cssns]

We’re here!!! *SOBBING UNCONTROLLABLY* It’s time for the CSSNS20 Roundup!!!!

It has been quite a ride y’all... 

I just want to take a moment here at the beginning of the post to thank everyone who has ever been a part of this event from 2018 to now. Y’all are the ones who made this event what it is and I cannot be more grateful to have had the privilege of manning the helm for the past three years. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart!!! There’s been too many participants over the years to name everyone, but I have to give a shoutout to my personal support team and the mods from all three years. Each one of them has contributed in innumerable ways and this event never would have happened without each of them and their contribution. @hollyethecurious​ @winterbaby89​ @katie-dub​, @thisonesatellite​ and @profdanglaisstuff​. Thank you so much ladies!!! I never could have done this without you all!!!

Now that the event is over, I want to let everyone know that I will be inviting other supernatural fic to the collection over on ao3. When I first started reading fan fiction, I stumbled across the Black Swan and Red Hooks Collection, a collection for smutty fics, that continues to grow today. I want to do the same thing with the Supernatural Summer Collection. As more supernatural fics are written, I will invite them to the collection.

We are now at the close, and it’s time to round up all the wonderful fics and art that we’ve been blessed with in this year’s event. At the end of the post, I’ll highlight all the fic from previous years that have also updated this summer.  Active MC’s will continue updating until they are finished. And without further ado, HERE WE GOOOOOOO!!!!

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

On June 1st, @itsfabianadocarmo dropped a vampire aesthetic inspired by the Countess from American Horror Story: Hotel. SOOO incredible! It gave me chills! You can find it here.

On June 3rd, I ( @kmomof4​ ) dropped Of Darkness, Vampires, and Soulmates. I figured that since this was our last year, I should write for it for once. Breathtaking art by @spartanguard. Banner Prologue Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8

On June 6th, @demisexualemmaswan dropped By the Moon’s Rise, featuring CS as werewolves. Oh my WORD! The pack politics going on…It is off to a fantastic start and I can’t wait for more!                                                   Gorgeous art by @courtorderedcake. Killian Emma David

On June 9th, @snowbellewells dropped A Cottage By the Sea. An Enchanted Forest Lieutenant Duckling AU. The last chapter left me CHEERING and I can’t wait to see where she takes this!                                                                  Lovely art by @searchingwardrobes. 

On June 11th, @katie-dub dropped Awakening, her fic inspired by the TV show Being Human. I am not familiar with the show, but this fic, oh my WORD!!! I had no words, and so I reblogged with gifs. Can’t wait for more!!!

On June 14th, @lassluna dropped her fic, Swan’s Hourglass, a Legend of Zelda AU. I absolutely LOVE her use of the side characters and Emma is absolutely bad ass!!! Can’t wait for more!!                                                                  Beautiful Artwork by @eastwesthomeisbest.

On June 17th, @hollyethecurious​ dropped her Vampire Diary’s inspired The Craving In Between. Fun, intriguing, and SPICY!!!                                          Perfect Artwork by @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713​.

On June 20, @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713​ dropped her original Angel!Emma/Demon!Killian aesthetic. Absolutely PERFECT!!!

On June 23, @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713​ dropped another aesthetic that I was inspired to write a fic for! The Moon… Tells the Sea is the tale of were-mermaid Emma and her mate. aesthetic on Tumblr

On June 25, @eastwesthomeisbest​ dropped original Vampire!Killian artwork His Sweet Kiss. BREATHTAKING and sooooo chilling!!!

On June 27th, @kymbersmith-90​ dropped her Soliciting for Dracula: Outtake. So GREAT to be taken back to that universe first presented during CS Halloweek last year! Original fic on Ao3 Tumblr link with art

On June 29th, @imlaxdris71​ dropped her Shadowhunters AU, The Price of Blood. I am not at all familiar with Shadowhunters, but this fic is so AWESOME already and I can’t wait for more!!!                                                                          I was thrilled to provide artwork for this incredible fic!

On July 2, @ohmightydevviepuu​ and @thisonesatellite​ posted The Sword and the Heart, their retelling of all of s5. Let me tell you, THIS is what we should have gotten on the show!!! I can’t WAIT for the next chapter!!!                         Awe-inspiring artwork by @thisonesatellite​ and @profdanglaisstuff​.

On July 5, @snowbellewells​ posted For Once, Don’t Let Go, her CS ghost story. Spooky and soooo SWEET all at once!!!                                                            Chill-inducing, perfect artwork by @hollyethecurious​.

On July 7, @stahlop​ posted Making a Memory, her fic inspired by The Parent Trap. This fic is absolutely AWESOME, y’all!!! Lisa has sucked me in to this blending of one of my all time favorite live action Disney movies and Once canon and I CANNOT WAIT for more of it!!!                                                     Lovely and perfect artwork by @gingerchangeling​.

On July 9, @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713​ posted her original vampire aesthetic. Mm mm mm mm mmmmmmm!!!

On July 13, @shardminds​ posted her Witcher AU, Silver for Monsters. I have been BESIDE myself waiting for this fic, even though I’m not familiar with the show and the first chapter did not disappoint!!! Can’t wait for more!!!          Swoon-worthy artwork by @artistic-writer​.

On July 15, @eastwesthomeisbest​ posted original Fairy artwork, Within You, inspired by Carnival Row. Absolutely BREATHTAKING!!! Then on July 26, she posted Fear Me Or Love Me… It’s All the Same, and reduced me to a screaming flailing mess!

On July 18, @lovelivingmydreams​ posted Labors of Love, her Greek gods AU. This fic is fantastic and I am LOVING every bit of it!! I’ve been told to strap myself in, so I have and am eagerly waiting for the next chapter!!!            Beautiful artwork by @mariakov81​ Banner Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 

On July 21, @jarienn972​ posted La Sirena, her Siren Emma fic. A BEAUTIFUL mystery and I can’t wait to see where she goes with this!!!                      Gorgeous artwork by @courtorderedcake​.

On July 23, @shireness-says​ posted A Fate Woven in Thread and Ink, her fic inspired by The Night Circus. This fic is pure magic. Absolutely STUNNING in its beauty and I am BESIDE myself waiting for the next chapter!!!               Incredible artwork by @eirabach​. 

On July 29, @winterbythesea​ posted The Truth In a Masquerade featuring dueling CS at a vampire masquerade! WELL WORTH all the teasing we endured on the discord!

On Aug. 1, @profdanglaisstuff​ posted The Eternal and Unseen, an epic tale of fae, werewolf, and vampire coming together to defeat a common enemy. This fic is absolutely INCREDIBLE and I can’t wait for the next chapter!!!        Beautiful artwork 1 2 3 by @carpedzem​.

@xhookswenchx​ posted her werewolf MC, Waning Moon, on Aug. 2. I am soooo in LOVE with this beautiful fic and can’t wait for more of it!!!            Beautiful and precious artwork Banner 1 2 3 4 5 by @mariakov81​.

@whimsicallyenchantedrose​ posted her MC, More Than All the Jewels in the Realm on Aug. 4. Kinda a ghost/soulmate MC. You’ll see what I mean… Absolutely FANTASTIC already!!!                                                               Beautifully haunting artwork by @searchingwardrobes​.

@thejollyroger-writer​​ posted the first chapter of THE WASTELAND on Aug. 6, where the hero group goes on a magical journey to save Killian. This world she has built is INCREDIBLE and I am loving this fic soooo much!!!                    Incredible artwork 1 2 3 4 5 by @spartanguard​.

On Aug. 8, @imlaxdris71​ posted her werewolf MC, The Beast of Aurum. My heart hurts so much for Killian ALREADY!!!! I can’t wait for more!!!               Artwork by me, @kmomof4​.

On Aug. 10, @eastwesthomeisbest​ dropped original Demon Killian artwork, I’m Your Darkest Dream. Gave me CHILLS!!!

Aug. 13, @ohmightydevviepuu​ posted  From the Edge of the Deep Green Sea as part of her writersmonth2020 project. A 3a divergence that is absolutely HEART WRENCHING and BEAUTIFUL!!!                                                     Beautiful artwork by @mariakov81​ 

On Aug. 14, @spartanguard​ posted her fix it fic for West Side Story, Even Death Won’t Part Us Now, featuring CS as vampires. I am absolutely BESIDE MYSELF over this fic, y'all!!! I love it sooooo MUCH!!! Breathtaking and perfect artwork 1 2 3 by @thesschesthair​.

Aug. 18, @hollyethecurious​ posted her Sleepy Hollow AU, Some Legends are Best Kept as Legends. This fic is MAGNIFICENT and I can’t wait for more!!! Artwork by herself.

Aug. 20, @darkcolinodonorgasm​ posted her Siren Emma MC, A Song of Sin and Desire. This is gonna be an INCREDIBLE fic, y'all!!! I love it already!!! Gorgeous artwork by @artistic-writer​.

On Aug. 22, @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 posted fantastic original artwork for a fic by @teamhook​ that she posted in September, The Wolf and the Savior. The setup of this fic has me on the edge of my seat and I can’t WAIT to see what’s next!!! 

Aug. 24, @courtorderedcake​ posted her demon MC, Majestically To Far Beyond. This fic really is fun and I am LOVING it, y’all!!! Can't wait for more!!!                             Artwork by me, @kmomof4​.

Aug. 26, @cocohook38​ posted her Dark Swan/Werewolf Killian MC, I’ll Be Waiting For You By the Blood Moon. This is a FANTASTIC take on the Dark Swan and I can’t wait for more of it!!!                                                              Breathtaking artwork by @eastwesthomeisbest​.

And finally, rounding out our event on Aug. 30, @seriouslyhooked​ posted Lost Souls and Reveries: The Sequel, a continuation of her CSSNS18 fic, Lost Souls and Reveries. This first chapter was soooo precious and lovely and I can’t wait to see where she goes with this!!! Exquisite artwork by @clockadile​.

Over the course of the summer, we had several fics from previous years update, in some cases, several times! 

Until the Stars Are All Alight by @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ updated several times. Beautiful artwork by @clockadile​. This is her LOTR/CS crossover and I love it sooooo much!!!!

@kymbersmith-90​ updated both of her fics from CSSNS18, Slayer and Divine Intervention. Perfect artwork complements of @hollyethecurious​ (x) (x). Both of these fics are sooooo GREAT, even to someone who hasn’t watched either show that they were inspired by!!!

@courtorderedcake​ updated Hallow, her epic fic of Fae princess Emma and Dark One Killian. We have now journeyed to Sultana Jasmine’s court and we are closing in on the end of their journey!!! Latest Tumblr chapter link with art

@darkcolinodonorgasm​ updated One Day, her LadyHawke inspired AU that she kills me with every single chapter!!! We are now on ch5 of 7.  Tumblr ch link Beautiful Artwork by @sherlockianwhovian​

@eirabach​ rewrote her CSSNS18 submission Glow for the CS Rewritathon this spring and summer. It can be found in its entirety in the CSSNS20 collection on ao3 here. I loved it when she originally wrote it, and I loved it even more this time!!!

Well, that’s it, y’all!!!! Who would have thought when I came up with this idea almost three years ago now that we would have such participation and enthusiasm across this fabulous fandom? We have been blessed with EPIC, INCREDIBLE, GORGEOUS, BREATHTAKING, FUN, LOVELY, MAGNIFICENT fics and art these last three years!!! As I said at the top of this post, the collection on ao3 will continue to be active as well as this blog as more supernatural fics are written and shared. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for coming along on this ride with me. Y’all have all made it soooo worthwhile!!! All the love, everyone!!!

[laschatzi]

I may start rambling here, but “Smooth Sailing” was the MC that got me following your work. I adore “More than Words” as a sweet modern au, along with “A Favor Returned” and “Pardon the Way That I Stare”. But it’s just incredibly hard to pick a favorite. If pressed, the angsty part of me would probably go with “All Hope Abandon Ye Who Enter Here”, but then there’s “In the Wee Hours”, “Where We Belong”, “Belated Gifts” and “Sugar and Spice”... So clearly you’re great at this and I can’t choose!

Okay, that’s it, I can go home now and bask all weekend in the warmth of your words. Thank you so, so much, and especially for mentioning Smooth Sailing, my very first CS fic that I still hold very dearly to this day. As you generously mentioned not only one, but eight of my fics, I’d feel bad to put all the links here, so I’ll just leave the link to my fic masterlist, where they all can be found. Thank you so much!

You’re a pretty great writer yourself, your Run to Me making me like a supernatural, a werewolf (!) fic, even if that’s not the way I usually roll. I’m really looking forward to dive into this year’s sequel! And you give the best reviews!

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: "Run to Me (in the Dead of Night"

This week's re-run of @cssns fics is also from the inaugural run back in 2018. I'd had the idea for it running around in my head for quite some time, and the @cssns finally gave me the opportunity and the push to finally get it started. This one is an MC that picks up around the time the original curse broke in Storybrooke (end of season one/start of season two) and then goes wildly divergent. And there are werewolves... ;)

If you haven't read this before, I hope you will check it out and enjoy it now. I've always been rather proud of it. And definitely be stunned and amazed by the artwork created for me by @wingedlioness. I'm still thrilled just staring at it. <3

It can be read from the beginning HERE on Tumblr,

HERE on AO3, and HERE on ff.net

 By: @snowbellewells (TutorGirlml on ff.net)

 ~~ prologue: leaves on the wind

           The crisp fall air of late September blew Emma Swan’s long, golden curls back over her shoulders and off her neck, tangling them together and causing a shiver to skitter through her as the chilly breeze of early evening glanced along her bared skin. Even as she clattered down the front steps of the diner, eager to get out of the rather close and over-warm space and the heavy, grease-scented air, she still felt it: the sense that had been following her around lately, more than any simple gossip or slander would account for, resting heavy on her shoulder, of being watched.  Glancing around the outdoor seating area of Granny’s and down the quiet main street, deserted but for a few leaves blown here and there and Marco tinkering with the sign that hung over the door of his repair shop and pausing on his ladder to offer her a friendly wave and doff of his cap.

           Emma tried to shrug off the troubling impression; eerie though it was, she wasn’t sure that it wasn’t just some manifestation of her own jumbled thoughts and fears, a tingling in her bones that had been discomforting her ever since the curse broke, almost a week ago now.  Willing her hard-earned nerve and bravado to reassert themselves, Emma rolled her eyes at herself and how she had just mentally referred to the curse that had changed everything she’d come to know on its head as casually as if it were laundry day or a trip to the movies – just a regular little life-altering occurrence – and gathered the still warm carryout bags Ruby had pressed into her arms just a moment before closer to her chest as she picked up her brisk pace down the sidewalk.  Something in her psyche wanted to kick her for running as she left Storybrooke’s most popular eatery behind her, but Emma honestly wasn’t in the mood.

           The tiny hairs along the back of her neck prickled as she crossed the opening of the alley between Gold’s pawn shop and the library.  She threw a glance down the dim space, but told herself to relax and blew out a frustrated breath before squaring her shoulders and moving on. Whatever sort of creepy premonition vibe she was picking up on lately, it simply had to be in her head.  For one thing, this was the smallest, sleepiest, stuck-in-the-eighties town ever; beyond fights at the local watering hold between whom she now knew were three of her mom’s dwarves and guys she had learned were Jack Sprat, Tom Thumb and a definitely not-so-little Jack Horner, and the occasional clichéd kitten up a tree, nothing ever happened here – or at least, nothing of the normal criminal variety.  Besides, she already knew who the supposed villains were – and she was well-acquainted with the fact that skulking around subtly wasn’t any of their styles.

           No, the sense she felt was probably that same one she had experienced some time back, when Mayor Mills had run her smear campaign trying to overturn Emma’s appointment as deputy. Then, it had been judgmental eyes on her back and whispers that ceased when she walked into a room; now it was awkwardly hushed awe and averted eyes or slight bows when she tried to approach a group casually, and still the constant scrutiny – ill meant or not – and whispers, probably about how unprincess-like she, as their long lost princess, had turned out to be. In any case, the way it made Emma’s skin crawl uncomfortably really didn’t change that much from one case to the other.

           Curling she and Graham’s dinner more protectively into her elbow, Emma sighed resignedly as she walked on, kicking at a stick on the pavement at her feet. Thinking back to those unpleasant weeks when she had almost given in, packed up, and moved on, the upheaval of the last several days didn’t seem quite so intense.  Back then, it had seemed as though she was clinging to her tenuous bond with Henry by such a fragile, thin thread.  Graham offering her the deputy sheriff position – and thus a legitimate reason to remain in town – had been a genuine boon, and when it had seemed as though that might slip through her fingers too – as good things always seemed to do in her life – Emma had almost hit the road once more. She’d been so close to taking off back to Boston, or anywhere really, it didn’t matter… she was always going to be alone.

           No matter where she went, people never truly changed that much.  Emma had learned that long ago, though Henry’s boundless optimism and the quaint little town’s charm had almost let her forget. It never got easier to ignore the labels that had followed her for most of her life – brought back to glaring focus by the newspaper expose Henry’s adoptive mother had ordered in her bid to see Emma ousted from her new town role. ‘Runaway’, ‘Thief’, ‘Orphan’, ‘Hussy’, ‘Teen Mom’, ‘Jail Bird’…those nasty words dogged her steps for the few days after the paper’s publication in the suspicious narrowing of eyes and disapproving pursing of lips as much as in any audible speech.  For all too many moments, it had looked as though the little berg she had begun to hope could be a real home was going to turn its back on her. No matter how far or fast she ran, the barbed tips of both truth and rumor about her never failed to pierce Emma’s hard-won armor.  She might be good at pretending the wounds didn’t sting, but she knew now more than ever that she would do well not to forget just how quickly the tide of public opinion could turn.

           Even now, with the curse broken, and her tentatively coming to believe that she had not been an unwanted infant abandoned carelessly on the side of some deserted road, the lost little girl inside her still flinched at cruel jabs both real and imagined; there would never be enough time passed to make that completely go away.  The childhood and adolescence she had weathered was an inner wound that would always draw blood – even as getting to know Henry, his forgiveness for her giving him up, his boundless blind faith in her, and meeting her parents after all the years lost, and learning how desperately they had indeed loved and wanted her, how they’d had no other choice but to give her what seemed her best chance and believe they would be reunited someday; even all those truths being brought home to her couldn’t undo everything else she had known before.

           Upon reaching the sheriff’s station at last, Emma raised her chin from where she had buried it in her collar against the chilly wind and her hair being whipped across her face and into her eyes.  She turned the knob and pushed into the station’s dingy and antiquated entryway, also finally shedding the odd sensation of eyes following her as she entered the squat cinderblock building.  She could feel her mood lift slightly almost at once.  In truth, this was the first job she had genuinely enjoyed doing in years – not only because she was good at it and got paid well, but for the fulfillment and sense of purpose it brought. Clearly, Graham had needed the second pair of hands; they’d be putting the filing back in order until next December, and the man couldn’t make a decent pot of coffee without somehow getting grounds in it to save himself.  Still, he respected her and they worked well together.  Emma was determined not to let down her guard and grow too comfortable again, but this sleepy little hamlet could almost feel something like a place to belong – not a description she would ascribe to any of the other places she had landed before.

           A wry smile curled her lips just before she called out to let Graham know she was back with their food.  She certainly wouldn’t take back Henry’s appearance on her doorstep and his bringing her here – whatever happened next.  And watching the first real friend – outside of her 10-year-old and her own mother – she had made in years muttering to himself in his office, rifling through the haphazard piles of paperwork stacked all over his desk and running an occasional frustrated hand to swipe his errant curls off his forehead, she grinned even more warmly. They had exchanged one kiss – some months back now – but had decided to simply remain friends rather than risk the comfortable working relationship they shared and Henry’s hurt, as he cared so much for both of them, if it failed.  They had somehow managed to simply go on as if it were a one-time gesture of affection and remain the partners and friends they were – for which she was constantly grateful.  Graham was warm, open, supportive, and just lighthearted enough to crack truly awful jokes simply to see her roll her eyes, snort, and smile, but he was also capable and as driven as she was, determined to do their jobs well and protect those in their charge.

           Stepping into the doorway of the lamp lit office, Emma had raised her hand to knock on the frame, but Graham looked up alertly before she could even complete the motion; hazel-deep eyes finding hers unerringly as if he had sensed or scented her presence before it could be humanly possible.  She used to marvel at the uncanny ability her boss possessed; be it hearing, smell, or some other awareness, it was impossible to sneak up on him or catch him by surprise.  Of course, now that the curse was broken, Emma knew, though she was still trying to wrap her head around it, that it was his werewolf nature allowing him that ability – his lupine senses were heightened and made him effectively alert and aware of everything. Smirking slightly she had to admit to herself that wasn’t at all a bad skill set for a sheriff to possess.

           Shuffling forward almost bashfully, Emma held out the to-go bag in explanation, even as Graham waved her in without question, a welcoming smile on his scruffy face and stood to pull the visitor’s chair facing his desk over to the end of it where they could eat together more comfortably.  Graham took the still steaming brown bag that Ruby had handed her with an understanding and apologetic smile not five minutes before and began to spread their meal out on his desk.  They’d shared their evening meal right there nearly every night they both worked since he had hired Emma, and it was a settling bit of routine normalcy that soothed her jangled nerves as she sunk into the seat before her.

           Graham looked up at her with a grateful crooked smile and the bright eyes that Emma would challenge anyone not to be charmed by (there was a reason she had kissed him that one time after all).  “Thank you, Deputy,” he quipped, a playful emphasis on her title.  “It was definitely time for a break.” He gestured at the stacks of files and paperwork all over his desk at those words.

           Once they had both settled into their seats, Graham didn’t hesitate to take a huge bite out of the Philly Steak hoagie he’d ordered, munching happily and even closing his eyes in bliss with a low hum of satisfaction deep in his chest. For a moment, Emma could only watch, trying to remember if her friend – for all that he looked so trim and wiry – had always had such a voracious appetite and she merely didn’t notice before, or if it was a trait of his recently reacquired wolf within.  She was still sometimes too stunned to believe that both he and his adopted sister Ruby, her two closest friends in Storybrooke beyond her parents (that was taking some adjustment too) could both shift into large wolves by the light of the moon. They had been born with the ability in the Enchanted Forest, and that side had merely been buried along with their true identities while under the curse.  It was why Graham’s birth parents had abandoned him in the woods – or so he had told her, as he could only assume when he didn’t even remember them – to be found by a preteen Ruby on one of her nightly runs and brought back to live with she and Granny, folded into their little family as simply as if he had already belonged there.  Emma had yet to see either of them transform, but she also knew in her bones that neither of them would lie to her.  She had simply attempted to reconcile this one more bit of her new normal in her mind and move on without treating her friends any differently; even if, in moments like that, she did gawp at them in wonder.  “That good, huh?” she finally managed with a chuckle, amused enough by his good natured enthusiasm and almost child-like joy to put aside her own cross mood and paranoia of being followed.

           Then, she bit into her own first taste of Granny Lucas’ unparalleled onion rings and let out her own ecstatic moan at the hot, crisp, greasy goodness on her tongue.  Graham laughed out loud in response, the whooping, uncalculated ring of it doing much to completely repair Emma’s clouded outlook.  “I don’t know,” the sheriff countered her previous jest saucily, “you tell me.”

           Emma nodded enthusiastically, her own eyes alight as well, and her mouth full of her first buttery toasted bite of Granny’s grilled cheese.  When she could speak again, she conceded gladly, “Yep, you’re right.  Granny’s is the best – and Ruby slipped bacon on here for me again.  It’s like Heaven between two slices of bread!”

           Graham snickered at her creative praise, and the two of them settled into a comfortable silence, busily munching on the food spread out before them and humming in pleased enthusiasm.  Once they were finished, Emma began gathering up wrappers and napkins as Graham sat back contentedly in his chair, wiping crumbs from his front with his hand and grinning at his deputy in full-stomached satisfaction.  “Well, that hit the spot,” he stated cheerily, eyes sparkling when she nodded in agreement with his words.  He paused a moment, as if uncertain whether he should voice what he was about to say or not, then added, “I’m glad.  You look a lot happier than you did when you first came back in here.”

           Though she truly attempted not to – had long since decided in the months she and Graham had worked together side-by-side that the good hearted sheriff was trustworthy – Emma felt herself stiffen and begin to close off.  She didn’t need any more concern over her emotional state and how she was dealing; her mother was doing enough of that to serve for a dozen people.  The barrier she threw up was almost involuntary, no matter how well-intentioned she knew her boss was.  Old habits were hard to break, and even more so when she felt half the time as if the town’s very borders were closing in on her, that she would never find “normal” again, and as if her every move was being scrutinized and probably coming up well short of what must have been expected in a long lost royal.

           To his credit, the soft-spoken lawman didn’t push and delve into further questions.  He backed up slightly, hands raised in appeal, before lifting a file from the stack before him and turning to put it in the corner cabinet, offering her a bit more space as if he had read her mind. ‘No, more likely he sensed the fear or frustration on me,’ her mind supplied unhelpfully, remembering his heightened shifter senses once more.  Though he had his foster sister, and Granny, and Henry blatantly adored him, trailing after the sheriff or begging him to ride along on patrols, Graham seemed like a somewhat reluctant loner himself.  Emma sensed he understood self-protective walls and keeping others at arm’s length all too well, even if she didn’t know everything he had been through. He might be willing to listen, but he clearly wouldn’t force her to talk.

           She could ask him how he seemed to know, seemed to be on the outside looking in, but it really wasn’t fair when she was unwilling to share in return. Ruby had explained to her once – on an ill-fated girl’s night that only she and Ruby had made it to the end of – Mary Margaret and Ashley ducking out embarrassingly early – that shifters like them could only be contained for so long, and that though he had loved she and her gran and been happy with them, he had mostly returned to the forest when he came of age, living off the land as a skilled huntsman with a wolf he considered his brother at his side.  It was only after a month when he hadn’t stopped in for even a supper or a quick visit, that they learned he had been commissioned for a job by the Evil Queen – and when he had failed to return, she had feared him dead.  It wasn’t until befriending Snow White and hearing she and Charming’s whole story put together that Ruby had learned the fate of her adopted sibling was much worse: he had been made into one of Regina’s heartless black knights, his very mind and will subject to her whims and control.

           Henry had told Emma all this as well, long before her waitress friend confided in her with newly-restored memories post-Curse, but Emma hadn’t truly believed him at the time, merely nodded along to humor her highly imaginative son as he’d flipped through his storybook not long after she and Graham had shared their single, ill-fated kiss.  Graham’s collapse just afterwards, her panicked 911 call and what the confused Dr. Whale had vaguely labeled some sort of isolated cardiac event, had given cooler heads time to prevail where taking the romantic feelings behind that kiss much further had been concerned.  At the time, Emma hadn’t questioned his awed “I remember” epiphany, chalking it up to disorientation from his impending health episode.  Now she knew that somehow his memories had been returned to him before the curse breaking did the same for everyone else in town.  Henry had been thrilled, and she knew that Graham had listened to her son seriously after that, truly joined his “Operation Cobra”, because he knew Henry was right, and wanted to help bring everyone back to themselves as well.  He just hadn’t attempted to share it with her, knowing she would think him crazy and that it would push her even further from the truth.  Instead, he had bided his time, and helped where he could, waiting and hoping and believing until the Savior could no longer deny who she truly was.

           It made Emma chuckle lowly, and shake her head in amused disbelief; their whole world had changed, and yet here stood her friend, patiently waiting as he always had.  He turned to look over his shoulder at her sound from where he stood at the open filing cabinet, head tilted to the side as he studied her curiously, until Emma finally admitted, “Yeah, I wasn’t in the best mood.  It felt like everyone in the diner was wondering how I could possibly be their Princess.  My parents keep fussing over me and trying to make up for 28 years in a week, and we still don’t know where Regina’s hiding or what she might be plotting next.  It’s just…it’s a lot….that’s all.”

           She blew out a breath, still not sure what compelled her to open up exactly. To her intense relief, Graham didn’t try to offer empty platitudes about it all being fine and not to worry.  He merely nodded in understand, adding, “I’d imagine so.  Our world back in the Enchanted Forest – your own family even – wasn’t real to you at all, and now it’s all been dumped in your lap.”

           Emma bit her lip to hide its almost quivering a little at the emotion he summed up so succinctly.  She wasn’t used to feeling so shaky and out of her depth – and she certainly didn’t like it.  That didn’t even begin to factor in the weird sensation of being watched that she had experienced repeatedly, nor of being followed, though she kept feeling it crawling up the back of her neck the last couple of days.  That had to be just a reaction to the other upheavals around her –if she could only convince herself of that fact.

           Suddenly, Emma had to get out.  The pressures of wondering what the Evil Queen might throw at them next, how to keep her son safe – while at long last getting to actually learn to be his mother, trying to reconnect with her own parents, and trying not to disappoint everyone else looking on, was overwhelming her once more.  The walls of the station seemed to be drawing in, along with the suffocating weight of all that responsibility mentally added up as well. It really was more than any one person – a sane one anyway – should be expected to handle at one time.

           Luckily, it had taken her long enough to fetch their dinner, that a quick glance at the clock back out into the main room over the coffeemaker and microwave showed that it was nearly quitting time anyway.  She needed to get back to her room at the loft – if only for five minutes completely to herself to put her head back on straight – before she hyperventilated.

           Before she could voice some excuse about the supper not sitting right or needing to help Henry with his homework, Graham looked up at her again, warm gaze concerned and voice soft in understanding, “Emma, you don’t look like you’re feeling well…”

           She started to protest, even as she had been about to claim just that, but she didn’t want to seem like she was slacking, nor for her distress to be so obvious.  She used to have a much better poker face.  Graham waved off whatever comeback she was about to voice anyway. “Seriously, this place is so quiet they shouldn’t pay both of us to be here anyway.  I’m closing up myself as we speak.  I’ll put the phone on rollover to our cells at 9:00, and then I’m heading out too.  You’re only gaining about twenty minutes.”

           Shaking her head at his once more almost unbelievable kindness, Emma didn’t even try to protest further. Instead, she slung her jacket back over her shoulders and nodded her acquiescence as she stood.  “If you’re sure,” she finally caved, “but make me return the favor sometime, okay?”

           “Done,” Graham assured her, his expression genuine and further comforting her that he didn’t resent the early exit or her needing some time to regroup.

           Another minute, and she was out the door, hesitating but a moment on the curb outside to button up her red jacket and pull her knit beanie down over her ears against the chill in the late September breeze. She stepped out briskly, crossing the street and picking up speed as the night had already lengthened into dark and the air had gone chill.  It was only as she passed by the storefront with Dr. Hopper’s offices above on the second floor that a scuffling noise caught her ears enough that she turned sharply, peering once more down a narrow alley between buildings.  She could have sworn the shadows shifted as something – or someone – drew further back out of sight.  Emma tried to focus on the area where she had seen movement, practically holding her breath as she stared into the hovering blackness.  Whatever had alerted her was clearly long gone though. She wasn’t running around in the night alone chasing what was probably a stray cat, nor was she going to let her jangly nerves imagine even more monsters than the ones she had already learned were real.

           Turning back to face the street, Emma made herself move on toward the home she shared with Mary Margaret – and now David and Henry too.  She couldn’t help the foreboding that skittered up her spine; no matter how many times she told herself she wasn’t being followed, that nothing was there, she was no longer sure that reassurance was true.

           As if to seal her unease, just as she closed her fist over the door handle to enter their building’s stairwell up to the loft, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end in the night stillness.  And it was then that a stark, shivering note rose on the chill air – coming from the nearby forest at the edge of town, but carrying in a haunting, wild cry, clear as a bell.  It was the howl of a wolf, letting them all know it was there.

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

@laschatzi @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @teamhook @revanmeetra87

@anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @myfearless-love @undercaffinatednightmare @stahlop @xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic

@winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @artistic-writer @belovedcreation @motherkatereloyshipper @jonesfandomfanatic

@donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @xarandomdreamx @elizabeethan @let-it-raines @resident-of-storybrooke

[kmomof4]

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAMS

This is EVERYTHING!!!!!!! Emma and Killian are soooo perfect!!!! And their wolves are soooo

And Emma being worried... ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️I was too!!! And then the END!!! SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAMS!!!!

I can’t wait for more of this fic!!!!!!!

It’s finally here! Many, many thanks to @distant-rose for the header and the art that’s to come, and also for putting up with me being a needy, anxious mess over this whole thing. And thanks to @Idoltina for always having a magic wand to make my brain work properly again in beta. To the folks over in the @cssns Discord, thanks for providing giggles and inspiration over the last couple of months.

On AO3 and FF.Net

Summary:  Emma’s sure she’s never been happier. But the past she thought she’d left behind starts to rear its ugly head, taking down the Boston packs one by one, and a desperate visitor in the night reminds her of the legacy she thought she’d escaped for good. Afraid of what her parents left behind and fearful for the future she and Killian are creating together, a bad moon is on the rise.

A drop of toothpaste dripped onto her black tank top before she could react. Emma sighed in annoyance, her shoulders slouching, then went back to vigorously brushing her teeth. It was bad enough she was late getting up and ready for the day, now she’d have to change, too.

“Morning, darling,” Killian said, popping his head into the bathroom and kissing her on the cheek.

She leaned in to it, her hackles lowering at the feel and scent of him surrounding her. “Morning,” she mumbled around both toothpaste and brush, then leaned over the sink to spit. “Running late.”

“Coffee’s in a thermos, and there’s a fresh box of breakfast bars for you.”

She smiled, rinsing and patting her face dry with a towel. He knew her so well. “Good provider,” she said teasingly, patting his cheek as she went back to their bedroom to change.

Killian hummed with appreciation as she stripped out of her tank and rummaged in the dresser for something else to wear. “Down boy,” Emma warned.

“You know how I get around the full moon, sweet.”

Keep reading

[snowbellewells]

Tag Game

Rules: Go to your published works on Ao3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of- for whatever reason.

@kmomof4 tagged me in this - Thanks Krystal! (Sorry it took me so long to answer! ;p

First fic: "Start of the Dance" is the first one I posted on A03. Before that I was happily posting away in the Criminal Minds and Castle fandom on ff.net for ages - back before I even discovered Tumblr! Krystal though, convinced me to go over to A03 and create an account, largely to join the first-ever @cssns event, so I did. This one was one of my earliest CS one shots, and it ended up getting posted even before I posted the event fic I created the account for. I wrote a LOT of fic at the end of season three/ahead of season four, and this was one of my favorites from that span of time.

Last fic: I can almost guarantee it won't be literally my "last" fic, but the current last fic on my A03 dashboard is "Carolina Moon" my Nora Roberts inspired AU from the 2023 @cssns. It's still ongoing, and I promise more is coming soon! I'm not purposefully leaving you waiting.

Only Once: So, I discovered when I went to answer this one that most of the ships or fandoms I only wrote for once stayed over on my ff.net profile. The best I can do with one that has transferred over to AO3 is my @cssns18 one shot "Tasting Forever". This fic is still one of my favorites and has gotten more reviews and comments than almost anything else I've ever posted. It leans very heavily on the plot and characters of another show called Moonlight, and I seriously put Killian, Emma, and the other OuaT characters into the roles from that show, then made my own spin on the idea. I do have one other Moonlight fic, but apparently, I have never migrated it over to A03. It's called "Forever Waiting" - and I would love to have you read it - but you'll have to read it on ff.net until I make that correction! I also have a little one shot from the LotR fandom. (Not that I would ever think to change or tinker with Tolkien, but it's a little moment he didn't write between Merry and Eomer, at Theoden's graveside.) You can find it here "Simbelmyne" - clearly I still need to move all the older stuff to A03.

Favorite fic for the fandom I've written in most: That is a REALLY hard question, Krystal!! What are you doing to me?!?Okay, for reals, I will try.... (Well, I've got a top three - for now - at least)

I've always been partial to this one shot written between 3a and 3b (I even managed to squeeze Graham into it: "Ghost of Christmases Past" I am really proud of this short MC that I set in the Victorian time period and tried to make darker and more mysterious than my usual story. It was originally for the @csrolereversal fic and art event, and I had so much fun working on it, and surprising my usual readers with its tone/vibe: "The Case of the Heart in Armor" And I still love my werewolf AU MC I wrote for the first @cssns Many people have done much better and more amazing werewolf fics since, but I had wanted to try it for ages, I had some much fun doing it, and it still is a favorite for me: "Run to Me (in the Dead of Night)"

The fic I wish more people read: I am so grateful for any kudos or comment I get, but I have always wanted these to one shots to get more views and comments: "Moonlit Ghosts" and "Got My Angel Now" And I was always particularly proud of my short MC "Villain's Happy Ending" and want to tell more people to check it out and let me know what they think of it. Lastly, though I know the main pairing is Liam x Belle and so it probably never will, I always want to have people read "Looking for a Heart (that's not Walking Away)" I loved letting characters like Belle and Henry really shine, and exploring more of what Liam would have been like if we saw more of him. I loved writing it and was really proud of how it turned out, but I don't know that many people have read it.

The fic I agonized over the most: Sheesh, that's a hard one. The sensible answer would probably be my last year's @cssns22 fic "Believing Impossible Things" (since it still isn't done - I really do apologize!) But probably any of the ones where I attempted real love scenes (smut) in them. That tends to make me more than a bit anxious and to worry over each little sentence and word.

I also agonized a lot over my Music Man AU "Foot Caught in the Door (This Time)" for @captainswanmoviemarathon (Probably why it still only has one chapter ;p ) People were so kind and generous in their feedback and excitement for it, but I psyched myself out, because I love the musical so much and worry about doing it justice!

The fic that sprang fully formed from my mind without any effort: I can't really say that this ever happens for me. Not the whole fic, completely formed. Usually a certain scene comes to me - and it might be very vivid and complete - but then I have to come up with the rest of the story where it belongs!

A fic that I'm proud of, for whatever reason: 😘 It was hard to think of something that I hadn't already mentioned above, but I am quite proud of my one shot collection "Of Swans and Swords and Hopeful Hearts" - now 50 some stories strong. It's a good compendium of the sort of stories I write, the show arcs I most love, and the characters I really like to give a little more missing moments. A lot of those stories did just what I set out for them to do, and they take me back to that particular phase of the show, watching for the first time, and what I was feeling and wondering.

[snowbellewells]

Face to Face in the Broad Daylight ~ the end

Here it is at long last -- the conclusion to my @cssns​19 werewolf saga! Never would I have thought it would take me so long to complete, but after two years of work and two complete MCs in this world, I honestly think I was having a hard time saying goodbye to these versions of all of them. (Particularly this Graham and this Belle, who I honestly didn’t expect to steal so much of my affection.) Still, I'm sorry those who have been following this had to wait so long! Thanks you so much for reading and for sticking with me on this venture. Enjoy the happy ending (beginning)! :)

Plus, kudos and thanks once more to @branlovestowrite​ for this gorgeous fic cover, that I STILL can’t stop staring at!!! <3

This full story from the beginning can be found here or on AO3.  As can its predecessor “Run to Me (in the Dead of Night)” from @cssns​18 - here and on AO3 or ff.net.

Summary: A werewolf au and alternate season two and beyond fic from the @cssns​ event.  Should probably read the first story in the series, "Run to Me (in the Dead of Night)", or it might be a bit confusing in places. This second story in the same universe partially exists just because I wanted to revisit these couples and enjoy a bit more of their fluffy happily ever afters. However, we may also see them get into some new surprises and challenges, and of course we need to see if Rumplestiltskin is still under control or back to his usual scheming and plotting....

~ epilogue: two very happy beginnings

After all the trouble and fear which had preceded their birth, and the risk their mother had endured to deliver them, there was nothimg but bliss surrounding Belle and Graham’s newborns once they arrived. Both were peaceful and content babies, seeming fit and healthy and perfectly adorable in every way - no furry toes, lupine ears, or anything else which one might have wondered about with such unusual origins and accelerated gestation. All of their organs and extremities were fully formed and working well; an immense relief to their mother and father, who were already desperately enamored of them, and the friends and makeshift family who had gathered around them in support.

In fact, the only real hint at their supernatural heritage was that both already had adorable ringlets of a deep russet brown, much the same color as Belle’s, though the curls were all Graham at his most disheveled, when fingers had been carded through it repeatedly. Both had the most adorable, cherubic chubby-cheeked faces that anyone who looked on them would agree they had ever seen, and they had charmed nearly every nurse in the ward where Belle had been moved for observation during her recovery, with barely more than a blink, a gurgle, or the single wave of a pudgey little hand. It seemed - much to the dismay of their numerous new admirers - that Belle would almost certainly be cleared to leave soon, as she seemed to be mending remarkably well.

In the meantime, however, Graham had taken a full paternity leave from the station in order to fuss over her protectively to his own satisfaction, promoting Emma to acting sheriff for the time being, and her dad and her wolf man both as deputies. Belle had tried to reason that it wasn’t necessary, that she was in good hands, and that she already felt much better, but he was having none of it; intent on being right by her side and at her beck and call with an almost desperate physical need. He come so close to losing her - her and the two precious pups he already loved more than life. He could not fathom how he would have survived if Belle had not. Even for someone who had spent much of his life in a solitary, isolated existence, loneliness still threatened to choke and suffocate him at the thought of losing her; the one person who had ever eased his burden and truly felt his pain - because, in many ways, it had been her own as well. The very idea of her presence fading from the world was overwhelming.

On rounding the corner into the hallway for his love’s room, he could hear raised voices and raucous laughter. Brow furrowing immediately, and hand rather damagingly tightening its clutch on the bag of chocolate croissants and takeaway cup of hot tea Belle had wheedled him into fetching for her, Graham’s hackles rose unbidden as he doubled his pace.  Granted, the uproar sounded pleasant enough, but it wasn’t what he had expected to encounter upon his return, and Belle needed her rest, not well-meaning visitors overexciting her and wearing her out. Though he knew he was being ridiculous and bordering on driving Belle crazy with his caution and concern for her health, he couldn’t do much to stop the unbidden reactions that kept rising within him either. 

Wheeling into the room, ready to show her visitors out, Graham stopped short at the collection of people crowded into the small space, and Belle in the center of it all, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, and the happiest smile as she looked up to greet him.

“You’re back,” she crooned warmly, holding out her delicate hand for him to take, as well as to pull him closer. “Look! Can you believe this? Everyone wanted to see the twins and bring them gifts.”

Mary Margaret, at the foot of Belle’s bed, beamed at him and then Belle once more in turn. “Well, that is the best part of knowing someone with a little one,” she chipped in mischievously, “getting to spoil them with all the cutest toys and clothes.” 

Her husband beside her chuckled, his hand shaking with his mirth even as he pulled her into his side to affectionately press his lips to the top of her head. “Only you, Sweetheart,” he teased.

Henry practically bounced on the balls of his feets between his grandparents and his mom and Killian, clutching a gift bag he clearly hadn’t yet been able to give to Belle.

Ducking his head, Graham flushed at the thought that he had been about to banish them all from the room. One look at their faces showed they meant nothing but to help them both celebrate the joyous arrivals and Belle’s recovery; not to mention that one needed only to glance at the new mother for a second to see the good their visit had done.

Glancing sheepishly at his former liege, Graham nodded respectfully to Mary Margaret. “Thank you, truly, your Majesties, but… you didn’t have to do this… I mean, my Queen… Um, er, Snow?” Though both she and Charming had repeatedly let him know that bowing and formality were unnecessary, it was an adaptation the former Huntsman was still making, with varied amounts of success.

Snow reached out to press his upper arm with her hand, assuring him that the pleasure had been theirs, which he was grateful for - even as Emma and Killian on one side of the bed, and Ruby and Granny on the other, were set to laughing once more at his expense. Her husband smiled at her genuinely; that wide, magnanimous smile which let a person know that he was understood, that all was well, that he was seen and cared for by those called to rule and wear the crown of royalty - even if, in this world, that mark of leadership took the form of a deputy’s badge rather than a throne and lavish finery.

Taking pity on his awkward tendency in larger groups, Belle beckoned her love closer still, a gentle and knowing smile on her lips. “Maybe you’d like to help me make our announcement, since everyone seems to be here anyway,” she suggested, gazing up at Graham in sweet affection despite the heated blush that stole across his neck and the tips of his ears, though his stubble hid the pink of his cheeks.

Her sheriff nodded eagerly, knowing that their gathered group of friends and loved ones would be excited to hear the news, and he hoped, touched as well by the small gesture of thanks he and Belle were offering in return for their kindness and loyalty. To his mind, it could never come close to being enough, but it was something. Clasping Belle’s hand in his as he reached her side, Graham brought it up to his mouth, laying soft, chaste kisses to her knuckles one by one as they were intertwined by his own.

Looking back up into the faces of the fiercely protective tribe gathered round them, the man who had once faced the world completely alone found it particularly fitting that the twins were in the arms of Ruby and Emma. Since the little declaration they were about to make would touched those two fierce women most, it seemed almost kismet that those two would already be holding the little boy and girl. 

“As Belle already mentioned,” Graham began, a grin making its way across his face in spite of his dislike for the center of attention. This joyous moment was different, and he found himself almost beaming as those gathered before him looked up curiously at his words. “We have a couple of things we’d like to tell you. Seeing that we might not have reached this point so happily without all of you, it seemed only right that you be the first ones to know. These two cuties you’re all busy cuddling and spoiling within an inch of their lives…” At that, he gestured to the two happily gurgling littles ones, and his audience chuckled, knowing he had them with the spoiling. “These two new arrivals have names at last. Belle and I would very much like you to officially meet Rose Red and Hunter Henry.”

Oohs and ahhs over the perfection and adorability of their choices broke out all around, though no one’s enthusiasm was felt more than Henry’s. At hearing that the little boy cradled in his mom’s arms was sharing his first name for a middle one, Henry’s eyes bugged wide in sparkling excitement. Thrilled and bouncing even more than he had been previously, the young prince looked to Belle sweetly, thrilled beyond all reasoning. “You - you named him for me?” he repeated in awe.

Belle nodded, the smile she offered her young friend both kind and affectionately indulgent. Her eyes were more than a bit wide and glazed with a sheen of unshed tears as she wrapped him up in the hug he offered. “Of course we did!” she whispered in his ear emphatically. “You brought all of us back to our real selves with your belief. Who wouldn’t want their little ones to have a heart like yours?”

Graham leaned over to envelop them both in a fierce hug too before Henry and Belle could separate. His own voice was husky and rasped with stark emotion, but he spoke over the lump of feeling to second Belle’s response. “You were a light when so many of us had little else in this place - not even our true selves. You should know what a hero you are by now.”

Henry shook his head in disbelief, having a hard time swallowing such praise, even as it sent a wide, crooked smile across his face and pride stir within him. Yet, as he glanced around at everyone else in the room, they were nodding and affirming their agreement - from Ruby beaming at him widely, to his grandma’s teary joy, to his mom and Killian standing together, with his mom mouthing ‘He’s right, you are’ to him with a look of such parental approval and love that Henry hardly knew how to handle it.

Chuckling good naturedly, Ruby reached out to ruffle his hair, something he had begun to protest his mom doing (he wasn’t a little kid anymore!) but which didn’t seem to bother him when the pretty brunette werewolf did it. Her teasing and bright, toothy smile made the usual gripe die on his tongue and a flush creep up his neck instead. “Well, I’m not sure I’m even half so deserving as Henry,” Ruby jested, “but I’m still touched you’d put ‘Red’ in there for a middle name too.”

“Well…” Graham paused, drawing out his next words dramatically as he flicked yet another look over at Belle who nodded eagerly, biting back a giggle at the glint of mischief in his eye and at how happily surprised they were about to make her vivacious new friend. “It seemed only fair she carry a nod to one of her two godmothers in her name. That is… if you and Emma agree to take on that role.”

Ruby squealed with barely contained glee, stopping herself just in time from jumping up and down in her excitment and jostling the little girl dozing in her arms. “Are you serious?” she asked, dark eyes wide in awe and genuine surprise. “Me?... Truly?!?”

Belle clutched her hand, reaching out with kind approbation. “Truly and absolutely… we’d be honored.”

After a moment weighted with feeling and acceptance, all three turned their faces to Emma, who was blinking rapidly as she glanced up from Hunter’s cherubic countenance to return their gaze, and nodded wordlessly, offering a tremulous smile to her friends before finally managing to croak out, “Me too… absolutely.”

That afternoon took on a golden-tinged glow for all of them in reminiscence. Looking back on it at any time afterwards, that moment just after the twins’ birth was one of those scarce ones that only come along ever so rarely, where everything seems right as it should. A moment meant to be frozen and kept sacred in the mind’s eye, one to treasure.

Even after life began to shift back to normal, they were forever altered - and despite the difficulty and danger they’d weathered - for the better. After recuperating (much longer than she had wished, at Graham’s and her other friends’ insistence) Belle returned to her beloved library, helping anyone who stepped into her sanctuary find the story they sought. Graham eventually stemmed the flow of stifling overprotectiveness and desire to watch over his love at every moment, and returned to his post and duties as sheriff, taking care of the town that had become his home - the people in it more family than he had even been gifted by birth.

And though it might have been a reluctant parting at first, both of them rested in the assurance that either godmother they left their children with had successfully fought both villains and monsters, and would do so again for their young. If Emma had the day off from the station, she often took the twins out on the waves with Killian in his ship, their childish giggles and squeals showing signs of them coming to love the wind and waves almost as much as the trees and shadowed clearings of the forest. If Emma was working, Ruby or Granny were more than happy to entertain and look after Rose and Hunter. Ruby had been known to set them both on the diner counter in their car seats when she was hostess, making faces at them in play and allowing pretty much everyone in the town who entered Granny’s to fall in love with them. Or sometimes Granny would rock them gently, one in each arm, in an old rocker situated in the corner of her upstairs office. Though she had mostly recovered from Morgana’s attack, her older joints didn’t have the healing powers they had once possessed, and she simply couldn’t stay on her feet in the kitchens all day as she once had. She was more than pacified in her occasional relegation to the quiet room to keep the books and check tourists into the inn by the presence of the two little ones where she could have them all to her self and tell them old stories, just as she had once done for Ruby and Graham years ago.

And Emma… well, she and Killian understood quite well what would bring both their sheriff and librarian back to the service of their strange little fairy tale town in whatever way they felt called. The sense of belonging to and affection for a place both of them had once considered themselves “only passing through” or arrived in by mistake was uncannily right, all the way down to their sinew and bones. When Emma’s deputy shifts ended in the afternoon or early evening, she found herself with a wealth of options - more people to see and things to do than she would have ever imagined for herself. On days when she was finished by three, she sometimes strolled over to the school to meet Henry and her mother and walk to her parents’ loft with them for an afternoon snack - or if it was raining, she might pick them up in the Bug. Occasionally, she drove over to the animal shelter where her father was now office manager and spent time with her dad - the novelty of that, which she had wished for so often in her growing up years, never seemed to wear thin. Moreover as well as growing closer and closer to her dad, she was growing more and more tempted with each visit to adopt the large, saucy tomcat that always greeted her with his vocal purring as she arrived and reached her hand into his enclosure to stroke his sleek, beautifully striped fur and scratch behind his ears.

“Who’s a good boy?” she found herself crooning more often than not, to her dad’s chuckling over her shoulder.

“Oh, he is - and he knows it!” Prince Charming offered. “He’s been here nearly six months now. His owner trained him well - loved him and spoiled him rotten truthfully - but she passed away... Antonio, I believe she called him.”

Emma snorted, “Must have been a Shrek fan,” she mumbled under her breath, now offering him gentle scritches under his chin.

“What’s that?” her dad asked, a puzzled tilt to his head.

“Oh, never mind,” Emma waved her hand. “Just another movie woven into this place with a tie to fairy tales, but I doubt you’ve seen it. The Puss in Boots character in it is voiced by an actor named Antonio.”

Her father chuckled, shaking his head at his own oblivious ignorance, long used to such occurences happening by that point. “Gotcha. Well, regardless, he definitely likes you, and he’d be good company. Plus, a good mouser on a pirate ship…?”

Emma cut her eyes to her father with a wry smile, both knowing what he was hinting at, and that he was digging for more info. “Subtle, Dad… real subtle.”

Yet it didn’t stop her from carrying said ‘mouser’ in her arms when she headed out that night as her dad locked up. The adoption paperwork was folded and stuffed into her back pocket, and she knew Killian would be equally as charmed by the handsome feline as she had been. Even as she and her father parted ways and she set off on her path to the docks, shaking her head at her own softheartedness, she knew that her wolf man would welcome her pet with open arms. He had even more of a weakness for lonely creatures in need of a home than she did.

The moonlight glittered off the dark waters of Storybrooke harbor, where the Jolly Roger was now permanently berthed. Pausing on the wooden planks of the dock, Emma gazed up at the ship, seeing her sailor standing on board, bathed in the ethereal glow and staring up at the stars overhead. His magnificent old ship had come to seem like her home too; she practically lived there with him for all intents and purposes. 

Something warm swelled within her chest as Killian turned at the sound of her approach and smiled down at her in welcome. “I’ve brought you a new recruit,” she offered playfully, stepping up to the gangplank where he could see the animal nestled happily in her arms.

“Well now, Lass,” Killian murmured, a pleased smile teasing at his firm, supple mouth as he took in the purring tabby. “It’s been some years since we’ve had a good mouser aboard the Jolly. He’s an admirable find for certain.” His wink along with the words made her blush, even with such a light and playful conversation.

Holding out his hand to help her aboard, Emma thrilled at the gentle pressure of her pirate’s fingers wrapped around her smaller ones. As she reached his side on deck, she leaned into Killian’s sturdy frame while his arms encircled her and his spicy scent enveloped her senses, the rightness of the moment and them together and their place in their world - home at long last - could not be any clearer. Their port was set, wherever they might sail.

Tagging: @cssns​ @kmomof4​ @jennjenn615​ @spartanguard​ @laschatzi​ @therooksshiningknight​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @gingerchangeling​ @winterbaby89​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @teamhook​ @revanmeetra87​ @hollyethecurious​ @artistic-writer​ @lfh1226-linda​ @searchingwardrobes​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @thisonesatellite​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @thislassishooked​

[snowbellewells]

Face to Face in the Broad Daylight /// Chapter Seven

Hello Everyone!  I feel truly awful to have left you hanging on my @cssns​ werewolf sequel for so long.  I’m hoping that all of you who were enjoying it haven’t completely forgotten what was happening. Anyway, finally I come bearing an update that ties up a lot of the story threads, and after this there is only the happy epilogue left!  I never meant to string it out like this, but you should have the last installment by next week!

Thanks once more to my artist @branlovestowrite​ for the beautiful fic cover!

I’m including the story summary and link to it from the start on AO3, especially because it has been a while and readers might need to refresh their memories on where we left off!

Summary: Here we have a sequel to my werewolf, alternate season two and beyond fic from last year’s CSSNS. You probably want to read that story "Run to Me (in the Dead of Night)" first, or it might be a bit confusing in places. This second story in the same universe partially exists just because I wanted to revisit these couples and enjoy a bit more of their fluffy happily ever afters. However, we may also see them get into some new surprises and challenges, and of course we need to see if Rumplestiltskin is still under control or back to his usual scheming and plotting....

From the beginning on AO3

~ chapter seven: what once was mine

“Emma! Help her, please!” Graham’s frantic voice pulled Emma back to focus on the present crisis. He was crouched at his love’s side, gathering her tiny form as close to him from off the cold, bare ground as possible - clearly torn between brushing her hair from her slack face, trying to watch for further danger, and being sure some help was coming all at once.

Emma was almost startled to see her boss and friend in his familiar human form, all wiry limbs and curly hair once more instead of the russet wolf he had been when placing himself between Morgana and the woman he loved; the woman carrying his unborn child. Instead of noting when he had switched back to the genial sheriff she knew, all her focus, all her attention and power, had been trained on the huge flash and buzz and humming pull of energy both to and from the villainous beings before her. For a truly frightening, paralyzing stretch all of the gathered magic of Rumplestiltskin, and each and every Dark One who had come before, had been contained within Morgana, forcing all of them to shield their eyes and stumble back at the sheer wall of power surging outward from where the sorceress had stood, suddenly seeming to tower over them, her long shadow stretching out to encompass every visible inch of ground in view. With sickening clarity, Emma had known as their adversary tranformed before them that this double cross had been Morgana’s intention all the time. While she might once have been Gold’s ally and pupil, she had intended to take his power for herself rather than helping him be rid of the dagger. And she had so very nearly succeeded that the horrifying vision of a monstrous, unstoppable witch harnessing her own powers and those of every Dark One who had come before her, reigning over the fabled kingdom of Camelot and their own world with a iron fist of cruelty, destruction, and terror had been all too real in Emma’s mind’s eye. She could see castles crumbling, kingdoms bowing, and ordinary people enslaved to Morgana’s twisted will with no hope of release. 

Now however, beyond her knowledge or understanding - she hadn’t even had time to try - the evil sorceress was gone, vanquished with a roar of fruitless rage and flash of light. There had barely been time for her stunned eyes to take in the smoky dark cloud of sinister residue swirling into the thick tome where Belle had embedded the dagger, blinking in staggered disbelief, before Graham’s panicked voice and the librarian’s harsh gasps for breath jerked her back to the present. 

Emma wasn’t slow on the uptake, now that her focus was on the remaining crisis rather than their foe. It was clear Belle had been sent into a frighteningly early labor; her body in intense physical distress as a result. But, as much as Emma did possess magic and anxiously desired to help, she had no idea what to do. A wave of helplessness and panic swamped her momentarily, before she surfaced again, realizing exactly what she could manage.

Reaching a hand to rest on Graham’s forearm, trembling with fear for his beloved, she drew his worried eyes to her serious gaze, willing her certainty to infuse him with some sort of confidence in their course. “Hey, hey… Graham,” she pressed seriously, making sure she had his understandably torn focus, coaxing him back. “Are you with me? Listen, okay? I don’t know a whole lot about delivering babies - magically or otherwise - but I do know that Belle ought to be in a hospital, not out here lying on the cold ground. Let me transport us there, and you’ll be in clean surroundings with people who know what they’re doing, alright?”

The sheriff gave her a curt nod of either agreement, understanding, or both, but she could see the dark cloud of worry and self-recrimination gathering on his brow. Though he was clearly bracing himself for her proposed magical travel, and making his best effort to shield and cushion Belle at the same time, Emma could read his fearful churning thoughts almost as plainly as if he had spoken them aloud. Babies, yes, Storybrooke’s small hospital and capable staff had probably managed the births of many just fine, but a human-werewolf hybrid pup? It had been anybody’s guess what that delivery would look like anyway - and that was before the situation had become even more difficult.

Still, Emma knew better than to let the pressure and panic overwhelm her again. She was determined to help them all she could. One task at a time; it was the only way she was going to get anywhere.

Crouching next to her boss, Emma clutched Belle’s clammy, quivering hand, thinking just how tiny her bookworm friend’s petite frame really was. She couldn’t help another nervous flutter of the heart wondering how big the baby was already with its accelerated gestation, and praying Belle wouldn’t be torn apart by something she had wished and hoped for so fervently; that she should live and thrive in. Belle would be such a wonderful mom, and she deserved her chance. She deserved so much happiness after all that she had weathered; Emma figured she had survived enough herself to know.

Thankfully, though it was light, she felt Belle manage to press her fingers in return, once more centering her in the present and what she needed to do first. The grip was tenuous, but as their sprightly little librarian squeezed Emma’s hand in return - still fighting and hanging in there every step of the way, Emma felt hope rekindle that Belle would battle through. With that, she tightened her other hand’s hold on Graham, willing herself not to tremble and broadcast her fears to him any more than she could help. Relief flooded through her as she felt Killian’s large, solid hand rest on her back, linking them and letting her know he was with her, wordlessly soothing and strong. She was going to need him once they arrived at the hospital, Belle was wheeled away, and the rest of the delivery was out of her hands. She didn’t really know how to do anything more, but the waiting, the flagging adrenaline, and coming down from all they had just seen - she knew that she would be a mess if he weren’t there. And she was thankful all over again that he seemed - as always - to simply know and understand that, just as he always had. They were made for each other in a way she’d never even believed in enough to realize what she’d been missing. But she wouldn’t ever want to do without him again.

Remembering what little she had figured out about her magic for certain (and it wasn’t much, with the only magical experts in town evil or the Blue Fairy - whom her mother trusted implicitly, but who strangely unnerved Emma - Emma had been attempting to teach herself as best she could) Emma forced herself to slow her breathing, close her eyes, feel for those she wished to protect, and picture nothing beyond where she intended them to go. Pushing that gathered swell of energy outwards, she sooned sensed dizzying movement beyond her closed eyelids. And when she opened her eyes, they had made it - all of them - in one piece, to Storybrooke General.

They had barely landed and gained their bearings when medical personal rushed toward them, their need clear from the agonizing wails now leaving Belle’s mouth all too clearly. Soon a whole phalanx of nurses and orderlies were whisking her off on a stretcher, Graham clutching her hand and keeping pace beside it until they forced him to let go and stay behind. Emma and Killian could only watch as he trudged back to where they stood in the open reception area.  There was nothing else for them to do but wait...

~~~**~~~**~~~**~~~

Back in the lakeside clearing - suddenly empty and eerily, starkly, silent -  a single person remained, barely standing on his own two feet in shock. The man’s breath rasped weakly from all-too-human lungs, in a way it had not done for centuries. Rumplestiltskin was frozen, shocked and surprised; a state that had become completely foreign after ages of premonition and foreknowledge made surprises rare indeed. The twisted, maimed and spindly legs which magic had made immaterial all these years were barely holding his weight, and he sunk slowly to crouch on the rocky ground at the water’s edge.

The events of the last hour were still sinking in it seemed. Some corner of his brain was already crying out in horror; the rest of his senses struggling to catch up and comprehend his utter ruin. He had become so reliant upon - so addicted - to the immense powers of all the Dark Ones within his puny frame, that the weight of his vulnerability, weakness, and fear seemed near to crushing as the long-forgotten feebleness crept back into his conscious like monstrous shadows across the floor.

Rumple made to stand up again, but found his limbs quivering and drained. Without thinking, he flourished the hand that would summon him his heavy, gold-topped cane, but nothing happened. No cane appeared, not a trace of magic raced through his fingers… only emptiness remained. 

It was then that the full consequence of his devious grasping and false alliance struck home within his breast. Morgana had double-crossed him; he could see now in clear hindsight that it had been her intention from the start to siphon the forces of the Darkness into her own being to at last wreak her own revenge on her half-sibling and claim Camelot for herself - a frighteningly magnificent dark Queen. He had been blinded by his need for vengeance, his believed invulnerability, and not seen the deal that had brought downfall until it was too late. She had paid with her freedom and her very being, now trapped  - for all time, as far as he knew - within the book by Belle’s saving action. Yet, the swift retribution on the one who had betrayed him was cold comfort in the wake of his own punishment.

Rumplestiltskin, the poor village spinner still at heart, was once more what he had vowed never to be again: a crawling, weak, pathetic coward, left to his own pitiful devices to be trampled beneath the heels of those stronger than himself. The fact that Hook and his other adversaries, along with the woman he had once loved, were gone as well, rather than staying to torment him, gave little peace. He was not sure he could even drag himself back to his shop and in from the elements - nor what the point would be in doing so.

It was an interminable amount of time before he could even gain enough support from a stout tree trunk nearby to pull himself to stand. Stooped and wavering, Rumple broke off a large enough branch to use as a sort of crutch and help him hobble forward before collapsing with panted breath on a large rock. Did he even wish to return? Or should he wait for some wild animal or new threat to put him out of his torment and misery at last?

A howl of desperate rage escaped his lips as he let his head fall back in exhausted defeat. The fact that he was finally reaping what ages of his own crooked dealings and treachery had sown was not lost on the former Dark One, but it made the collapse all the more bitter to swallow. He might have even felt the sting of true regret as he began to hobble from the forest… but it was too little, and much too late.

~~~**~~~**~~~**~~~

Somewhere in the halls of Storybrooke’s hospital, as Whale and the rest of his most capable personnel fought for the life of both the tenacious young town librarian and her first child, Belle floated hazily beyond awareness of what was happening around her. Though the moments preceding her descent into unconsciousness had been fraught with fear and horror - the deep desire to prove her worth, to stop her maniacal former love’s quest to destroy all those she held dear - she was ignorant of all that worry and trauma now. It was a fitful state, far from the bliss of perfect rest, but she was no longer aware enough to be troubled by the many cares and concerns which had been weighing on her.

Unfortunately, she was also oblivious to the fact that she was very much in labor. She and Graham’s little one was on its way whether she was awake to push or not, whether it was time or not, and whether or not her body was ready or capable of delivering it safely. As she continued to lie helpless and unaware on the operating table, it became clear that an emergency Caesearean section was the only way to go - and immediately at that.

Whale was snapping out orders with a speed and fervency that most of his staff had never yet witnessed; generally seeing minor falls, broken arms or legs, and stubborn coughs and colds as their main health issues in Storybrooke’s sleepy environment. The fact that in another realm and long-gone life he had been a brilliant and pioneering scientist as well as an accomplished physician - if also an eccentric and a bit disturbed - became more abundantly clear as he continued to fight for the woman on their table, her life in their hands.

Graham, for his part, was going nearly mad outside in the hall where he had been forced to wait with the rest of their friends and family. His rapid pacing and clutching at clumps of his hair, even more curling and unruly than normal from his distraught mistreatment, was nearly enough to make Killian wince and try to warn his new friend to calm down. However, the other wolf managed to bite his tongue and hold the words back. For one thing, such a suggestion would almost certainly be useless. Clearly the sheriff couldn’t relax until they knew that Belle was out of danger. Not only that, but Killian felt it was not his place to tell others how to handle grief or strife (he had never been a very good model of it himself) and beside that simple truth, it would be incredibly hypocritical of him, seeing as how if it were Emma lying where Belle was, fighting to survive bringing a pup of his into the world, and he were in Graham’s place, he would be faring no better, and quite possibly even worse.

Time seemed to trickle by at first, as if the clock in the waiting room were taunting them, the two hands moving at a crawl, just when they most needed them to hurry along. Eventually, Snow, who had arrived with David and Henry in the midst of their wait, accompanied by Ruby, who had already been at the hospital to report on the diner to a recovering and once again tart and no-nonsense Granny Lucas,  to help her carry, went down to the hospital cafeteria to fetch some sort of breakfast for them all. David sat in the chair in the corner, looking resolutely calm, as if he could will things to fall into the proper place simply by projecting assured confidence with enough certainty. He couldn’t very well do much else, as his grandson had fallen asleep sometime around two a.m. and Henry’s dark mop of brown hair was still resting on his shoulder gaining what sleep he could. No one wished to take peaceful rest away from the preteen, whom they still wanted to shield from the worst if possible. No matter how helpful and mature he tried to be, he was still a kid with a child’s innocence and already more involved than they would have preferred.

Yet, as slowly as the minutes had seemed to crawl all through the long night and early morning, just as the stars were beginning to fade in the sky outside the large windows at one end of the waiting room, those minutes also appeared to jolt into motion and rush forward once more when Dr. Whale at last entered the room and made his way toward them. Emma genuinely felt as if her heart was crowding up into her windpipe, stoppering her ability to breathe and pounding against the roof of her mouth. The notorious physician looked exhausted; his shoulders bowed and dark circles beneath his eyes; he seemed disheveled, his hair stood even more wildly on end than usual, as if pulled at or run through in anxiety and frustration so many times it could no longer lie still, and the residue of blood and other materials Emma didn’t even want to consider too closely stained a swath at the front of his scrubs.

He came to a stop before Graham, and Emma tried to mentally prepare herself for whatever his report might be. Watching Graham as closely as she was, she could see that though he was mastering a sort of stoic, calm patience as he stood to receive news of Belle’s condition, his body swayed the tiniest bit - as if the awful words he might hear could knock him off his feet, never to rise as tall and straight again. His whole world rested on what the doctor was about to say, and as steady as he might appear, everyone else in the room with him knew it.

“Sheriff Humbert,” Whale spoke up solidly, reaching out a hand to shake Graham’s, “you’re the proud father of twins. Fraternals - a boy and a girl.”

He paused briefly as the other man’s face positively lit up - joy, relief, pride, anxiousness and love all coming together in his expression as it transformed from the frozen mask of worry and fear it had held for the past several hours. The sheriff returned Whale’s hand clasp, shaking enthusiastically for several seconds before looking over his shoulder at Killian and Emma, and then to David on his other side. “Twins…” he repeated in a stunned sort of awe. “Can you believe that?”

Whale nodded in rather unnecessary confirmation, not seeming at all surprised by Graham’s excitement, nor his immense relief. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get out here with the news, but I wanted to make absolutely certain that Ms. French’s vitals had stabilized and that she was resting comfortably,” he continued seriously, giving Emma a nod of acknowledgement over Graham’s shoulder. “We’re honestly very lucky you had Miss Swan with you, to get her here quickly without allowing any more precious time to pass than it did, nor for Belle to exert herself any more than she had to for the delivery. As it was, those two bundles of joy took almost all she had. It was a lot of strain on such a small frame - and in such a wildly shortened timespan. I had feared I wouldn’t be able to give this promising an update, but she seems to be rebounding better than I could have expected. She’ll need to be careful to allow her body time to heal, take things slowly…”

By that point, Graham was nodding along in agreement with such attentiveness that Whale grinned crookedly; the expression both a bit unnerving and knowing, but which was nevertheless part of his eccentric charm. He chuckled easily and concluded, “But I think I can count on you, Sheriff Humbert, to make sure she does just that.”

Without wasting more time, he gave a few cautions and warnings, and assured Graham that he was free to go and see both his offspring and his partner, as long as he didn’t agitate or overexcite Belle.  It seemed that the feisty woman who had completely captured their Huntsman’s heart needed more rest than she even now wanted to admit. Shaking his head with the sort of amused and doting affection that was clearly going to become habit if they were to spend the rest of their lives together, Graham fervently thanked Whale for all he had done - shaking the doctor’s hand once more, so enthusiastically that the other man’s teeth clacked against each other loudly. Then he took off down the hall toward the elevators at a trot, too anxious to see his little ones and to reach the side of his lady love once again to be able to hold himself back.

Whale shrugged to Emma and Killian, a sort of ‘I expected as much’ expression on his face, and they grinned in return, largely just relieved to know for certain that the worst was over. Offering their own thanks as well as the sheriff’s, Whale nodded to each in turn and then spun on his heel to go back to his other patients and chores.

As his wiry form disappeared around a corner at the end of the hall, Emma at last released the tense breath she had still been holding. It was almost as if she had needed to know that Belle would pull through and there was nothing more she could - or should - have done differently before she could completely relax. Looking up into Killian’s clear blue eyes as she leaned into his side, Emma could see his affection clearly - and drew even more assurance and strength from him. For once, they had gotten the best possible outcome instead of their worst case scenario, as often struck them in the dealings with villains and magic that Storybrooke seemed to instigate. Everyone was going to be fine, and Emma couldn’t be happier - even if she did feel like she needed to hibernate for a month to regain the adrenaline now vacating her body and recover from the fear and shock that had gripped them all from the moment they arrived at the standoff until Whale affirmed that the crisis was over.

“Come, my brave lass,” Killian murmured gently into the downy-fine hair at her brow bone, gathering her closer still and taking the weight she let him bear as she leaned on him more fully. “Let’s go home.”

Emma nodded blearily, already feeling hazy and half-asleep. They paused momentarily to make sure that David and Snow had Henry with them and would bring him by later. All three seemed determined to see Belle and the new arrivals before they left the premises. Emma was excited too - as she knew Kilian was - but they could wait until tomorrow. Right now, she was practically sleepwalking and not functioning well enough to string together congratulations which would make sense. She wanted to transport them instantaneously to her bedroom, but was afraid she might make a mistake in her current state.

Instead, she focused on merely putting one foot in front of the other and let Killian steer her forward, out the doors of the hospital entrance and into the grey pre-dawn light.

Tagging a few who may enjoy: @kmomof4​ @jennjenn615​ @therooksshiningknight​ @laschatzi​  @spartanguard​ @gingerchangeling​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @winterbaby89​ @hollyethecurious​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @revanmeetra87​ @teamhook​  @tiganasummertree​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @searchingwardrobes​ @lfh1226-linda​ @linda8084​ @branlovestowrite​

[snowbellewells]

Face to Face in the Broad Daylight: Chapter Six

{Chapter six is here in this sequel to my werewolf, alternate season two and beyond fic. This second story in the same universe partially exists just because I wanted to revisit these couples and enjoy a bit more of their fluffy happily ever afters. However, we have definitely gotten them into some new surprises and challenges, and of course Rumplestiltskin seems bent on slipping out of their control and back to his usual scheming and plotting. I left off at an intense place, and so I didn’t want to keep you waiting too much longer for this penultimate (I think?) full chapter...}

Previous chapters: Prologue  // Chapter One  //  Chapter Two  // Chapter Three     // Chapter Four  //  Chapter Five

~~A million thanks yous once again to @branlovestowrite for the gorgeous story banner she created!

~~ And to the @cssns for the opportunity to turn this story idea into a reality!

~ chapter six: all comes down to this

The lake surface before her, over her two frightening opponents’ shoulders, continued to swirl and churn uneasily, quite obviously part of whatever rite was about to be performed. The sinister flashes of sickly greenish-yellow light drew her attention with lurid flair despite the more pressing threats standing right before her.

“W- What are you going to do?” Belle countered with as much gumption as she could manage, regardless of the reasonable fear that also gripped her. She lifted her chin, now that they were face-to-face, and she discovered - grateful for small mercies - she was free to move again and could at least stare down the man she had wasted so much hope and energy on, letting him know with all the venom a gaze could muster that she was finally aware; he was nothing more than the selfish coward he had always been. That didn’t make him any less dangerous, of course, and Belle had a stray moment of absurd pride in herself that her voice had only wavered once in speaking to him. 

Morgana for her part, seemed to have lost interest the moment she’d gathered Belle wasn’t a magical threat or some unknown foe, had released her paralyzing unnatural grip, and taken a step back when Rumple moved forward to deal with his former maid, but Belle couldn’t comfortably take her eyes off the dark-robed and frighteningly cold-eyed woman for more than a few seconds. She could see the cylinder containing Merlin’s hat, just as it had been depicted in the source she’d found, idly held in the enchantress’ hand - and the power radiating from either the talisman or the sorceress herself, or quite possibly both, was so palpable it raised the small hairs on her arms, even without possessing any magical abilities herself.

Yawning and inspecting her nails for a moment, as if the fact that her conspirator was trying to decide the fate of an innocent right beside her was so common as to bore her, the woman finally flicked startling, almost violet eyes toward Rumple, raising a dark brow in question at his hesitation. “Well, are you handling this disruption or should I?” Her hand not clutching the hat slid from within the fold of her robe once more, unfurling toward Belle in a way that signalled only malicious intent, but Rumple gave a sharp shake of his head, arm jerking out to forestall her action. “You will leave her to me,” he spoke harshly, with as much command as she had ever heard.

Morgana huffed and turned back toward the lake, stalking away with the rigid poise Belle couldn’t help but liken with a shiver to the now-deceased former mayor and Evil Queen, only saying as she did, “Well, be quick about it. We cannot lose the hour.”

Belle’s heart almost regained a normal rhythm for a moment, and she readied herself to speak, knowing she might only get one chance to convince him or get him to see reason. He was only slightly less daunting than the powerful stranger, in that she did know some of his weaknesses, the regrets and hurts that hid beneath the beastly mask, and if he had lost all desire to fight off the evil within, then she could still appeal to a different area of his self interest. He had wanted to find his son for as long as she had known him, and he had a grandson right there who would surely accept him still if he only tried; however, murderous vengeance and a spree of unstoppable destruction would endanger both of those things she knew he still wanted.

Before she could put any of those things into audible words, however, Rumple drew even nearer, his eyes glittering with an unholy light. Though his skin was far from the glittering scales she remembered in their fairy tale world, and his suit was fitted to the normal human pawnbroker he meant to portray here, Belle was struck vividly by his likeness to the mad imp she’d once shared a castle with - the Dark One’s prisoner before she had ever been the Evil Queen’s. She was struck suddenly by the real danger she had put, not only herself, but she and Graham’s child, in and the sickening knowledge that if madness and lust for ultimate power had already overtaken his reasoning, then there would be no reaching him as she had hoped.

Indeed they were so close now, he was practically in her face. The look on his stony visage, sharp and uncaring as she had ever seen it, was completely at odds with the gesture of his hand coming up to stroke her smooth, fair cheek once more almost wistfully. She flinched at the touch, and he pulled away instantly at her reaction, the strange detachment vanishing and being replaced with disgust and outrage.

Both stunned Belle, as they seemed emotions more due herself than him, but the words he spat made her blood run cold - and cemented the error in judgement she had made in coming here. It had already been much, much too late for reasoning.

“You dare to recoil from me?” he hissed, the mere elder gentleman facade sliding from his features at last and revealing the hideous green monster that did indeed resemble a crocodile with razor-sharp teeth to devour, much as Killian had always said. “When you…” his chest almost heaved with rage and indignation, “you let that cur touch you and you’re carrying his mongrel pup?”

Belle stumbled back aghast at the venom for her unborn child, as stung as if he had physically struck her. Her mind reeled at the hatred he could have for a mere fetus of no threat to him and completely innocent of any ill or wrong, and she stretched her hand in an impotent protective gesture across her midsection as she gasped and stared at the unrecognizable man before her, no longer anyone she had ever known.

“You think I don’t see what you’re about my ‘Beauty’?” he gave the fairy tale appellation an almost mocking sing-song cadence as he made up the distance she had backed away, bringing them close once again. “You came here thinking you could appeal to the poor spinner who once tried to please you, who hoped to be “good” enough to make you happy, only to spare that lot of foolish heroes, the one you’ve replaced me with, and that abomination you carry within you. Let’s be rid of that delusion now… No deal.” He spoke icily, reaching toward her as she shook her head ‘no’, pleading soundlessly as tears of shock and terror streamed down her face, “Rumple, please,” she whispered brokenly, “don’t come any closer.”

Gripping her arm so that she couldn’t back away again, his clutch like an iron shackle at her wrist, Rumple’s other hand rested on the growing swell of her stomach, just above hers that still tried to shield the gentle curve from his touch. “Perhaps,” he murmured silkily, the calm resolve of deadly intent even more appalling than the unhinged rage and hurt had been. “Perhaps I should provide a demonstration of just how little any of those things you treasure, that you would hope to preserve, matter to me in the face of receiving my due at last.”

Belle was still shaking her hand in denial, trying to pull away frantic with desperation to free herself. It was all to no avail though, as his palm contracted on her stomach briefly, pressing firmly for a horribly long moment, and then he turned and strode purposefully back to his compatriot, who had been watching the whole exchange with fiendish glee once it had turned in the Dark One’s favor - almost as if she were sated by despair and anguish.

The scene before her blurred then, the effect of whatever Rumple had done creating a slight delay before it hit her and brought Belle to her knees. Her vision swam, the ground below and sky above spinning dizzily and exchanging places. A horrible pulling, tightening ache expanded from behind her naval out through the rest of her body, until she was falling to her side and curling in upon herself, every inch of her pulsing with pain.

And then she was screaming in utter agony, knew she was but still unable to stop, as if even her own reactions were now out of her control. All she knew was that her surroundings continued to dim and focused mainly on Morgana and Rumple’s legs as they stood by the rising whirlpool the lake had become, clearly continuing with their ritual, her inconvenient interruption of no further consequence.

Just as everything was about to fade away from her, she heard the unmistakable long howl of a wolf on the night wind answering her tormented cry. For that one second, she wasn’t even sorry that Graham must have woken to find her gone and followed her. Her heart panged in recognition, hoping she could see him before everything went dark.  Her mind lamented brokenly on how foolish she had been to ever come here, and yet she waited on a held breath, still pained and terrified, but pricked more by conscience at the hurt her love would suffer if her rash actions had brought harm to their little one as well.

She knew Rumple and Morgana must have heard the warning cry as well, but her mind was too foggy and confused to focus on what they were doing from where she lay. All she saw, with grateful eyes, was a large, russet-colored wolf bursting from the brush above, near where she had been hiding not that long ago, and then plunging, teeth bared, to her side. Through her bleary, half-conscious perception, she found herself vaguely glad he was a wolf at that moment. It seemed so daunting, powerful - almost invincible to harm, even if not fully the case. True, both of these magic wielders he faced were powerful enough to be a threat to man or beast, but there was something solid, strong and intimidating, about the large lupine creature of old that Belle genuinely hoped would strike fear into the Dark One, down deep where he was still a coward at heart.

Once he reached the bottom of the slope, her wolf was at her side in seconds, a mere couple loping strides for the large animal’s ground-covering speed. Though his every quivering muscle was tensed and ready, his fur practically standing on end and a low growl rumbling constantly from the wide chest, the concern radiating off the man twined into the werewolf’s being was plain. Tawny golden eyes never left the witch and wizard before them, also braced for action - both sides seeming to gauge what the other might do - but his shaggy, reddish-brown ruffed head dipped briefly to nose at her forehead and brow, a cold, wet nose reviving her if just a bit. A concerned whine, so soft in the canine throat that Belle felt sure only she could hear it, let her know just how frightened for her he had been - and was still.

Trying valiantly, with pained and weakly uncoordinated muscles, she attempted to lift her hand and stroke his fur in reassurance, but her hand fell limp against the ground before making solid contact, and the tender way her wolf licked at the back of it resting on the dirt pained her almost as much as whatever Rumple had done to her. It was too late to stop the process they had set in motion, despite her efforts. She had tricked and hidden her intentions from him, and led Graham into danger anyway, even as she had tried to protect him from harm.

They both watched warily as Morgana turned back toward the churning body of water, lifting her hands and causing the eerily lit typhoon to rise above its banks in a menacing swirl, clearly reacting to her magical direction. “Isn’t that sweet?” Gold mocked, affording them one last cruel glance before holding up the cylinder as Morgana directed. Manic avarice lit his gaze as it turned indeed into the recognizable shape of a tall, pointed sorceror’s hat. “You will die here together, with your repulsive whelp. It was a heroic effort - foolhardy and pointless, but heroic nonetheless, dearies, I’ll give you that.”

Even as he turned back to his evil task, Graham appeared truly ready to spring and rip out the imp’s throat. The fact that one or the other of their enemies’ magic would no doubt strike him down before he could reach them, no longer seemed enough to hold the usually kind and gentle man back - not when his love and his unborn child’s lives were at stake. Belle looked up at him with tears in her eyes. If only she hadn’t thought she could handle this alone… If only she hadn’t been so stupid… If only...

Morgana’s resonant and chilling voice rose up over Rumple’s triumphant cackle of victory, her own soft sobs, Graham’s warning growl, and the whooshing of the rising waves towering over their heads now, chanting some incantation of what sounded like ancient rhyme. And then, before her spell could reach completion, everything seemed to happen at once.  Behind them, scrambling down the same embankment with more cursing and less grace, came Emma and Killian - the pirate surprisingly in human rather than wolf form. All the same, they were there, flanking she and Graham and eying their adversaries for just one chink or weakness. 

Belle wanted to stand to face them head on rather than lying in the dirt, but another blinding shock of pain ripped through her, curling her up even further and causing her to bite almost through her lip to merely whimper rather than scream in agony. Oddly, it struck her that even if they were too late to stop this ritual, if all of Rumple’s powers were unleashed again, they would still stand up to him together, and even if he took out the four - well, the five, of them her mind amended with a shudder - there were others on their side yet, and good would find a way. She had probably never sounded more like Snow or Henry, but somehow in this terrifying meeting with what might be their end, she somehow felt faith returning.

“Oh, how quaint,” Morgana simpered, “it’s the Savior herself and her own pirate knight.” She tilted her head slightly, as if considering them all like they were some sort of entertainment. With a dismissive gesture, she then levitated the cylindrical talisman, making it open and morph into the hat twirling in air. “You must know that you are too late to stop us, that soon you will be in the presence of an all-powerful Dark One, in the face of whom all attempts at resistance or control will be futile, and yet here you stand - as if it will do some good.”

As she spoke, the water crested even higher, towering over all their heads and the enchanted contents of the hat burst forth in multicolored light festooned across the sky above them like a new map of constellations.

Yet, in that unnatural glow, even as Rumple also laid the dagger on the ground beneath the levitating hat, making their preparations complete, a horrifying vision suddenly appeared before their eyes, not of Rumplestiltskin once more the cruelly green and glittering crocodile with sharp jaws wide to devour them, there is instead a terrible beauty. Morgana was the ultimate Dark One emblazoned with sudden clarity, silhouetted in unearthly flame as she reached out an unstoppable arm to crush them all. It was seconds from coming to pass, and suddenly Belle could see it unspooling with horrifying clarity. The sorceress, whatever her connection to Rumple, had never intended to aid him in cleaving himself from restraint. Instead, she meant to take his power for herself and full dominion over the realms as well. Just as her compatriot had needed the hat she could bring, she had needed his dagger to make her devious designs complete. This enchantress had somehow managed to convince the best manipulator Belle had ever known to believe she owed, or felt, some loyalty to him. Enough so that Rumplestiltskin had already laid down his jealously guarded weapon and protection in one at Morgana’s feet.

Without time to think, to plan, seemingly even to breathe, Belle knew what to do. It came to her with galvanizing certainty, a realization that rocked her to the core, even as the beams of power, like golden threads were streaming from dagger to hat to Rumple and back again over to Morgana as she chanted; a subtle, knowing gleam in her eyes now that the librarian was looking clearly.  The beams looped and re-circled back in and out between the four points of contact, both villains finally distracted by their greedy focus on the brilliant light magic and the tendrils of the dark as well, coming off of Gold and from the dagger itself, then rising in ghostly wisps to intertwine in a mantle that seemed to lie about Morgana’s shoulders.

Time moved as if strangely delayed as Belle lurched forward unsteadily, still unable to rise fully to her feet and run for her goal, still almost blinded by the pain centered in her abdomen, she soldiered on, almost rolling and then pulling herself the last few inches forward, sheerly on the desperate strength of her arms and shoulders.

Her fingertips barely grazed the now quivering hat, even as the magic seemed to sense the last strands of power from Rumple himself and the dagger, now centering over Morgana, and also to fully enliven the ancient token. Graham saw where she was going and pounced forward, practically leaping over her prone form to keep the witch away from her. Emma swung toward Gold with her own hands up, magic flickering to life between them to ward him off as well if need be. 

That proved unnecessary though, as Rumple cried out, an unearthly expression of rage, pain and bitterness when he discovered all too viscerally what Morgana had done and the extent of her betrayal. As the last vestiges of his power wreathed his former partner in crime, making her whole being glow insidiously, the hat sunk back to the ground, practically dancing upon the hard earth, shaking and moving so wildly from the amount of power thrumming between it and the Darkness’ new vessel - and it sought out more to drain from its surroundings.

“No!” the twisted imp wailed; no longer either smug pawnbroker nor controlling Dark One, but the poor, bent spinner so helpless and afraid of the world around him before magic had ever come into his life. “What have you done, you foul hag?! You’ll not even live to regret this.” Yet, even as he bellowed, his own self-maimed foot curled in again, his body bending weakly as he sought out the cane he needed not just as a dramatic embellishment any longer.

Gritting her teeth and exerting her last bit of strength, Belle managed to reach the tips of her fingers far enough to brush against the active hat. She was grasping at last chances, hoping against hope that she had timed her move correctly, that the villainess was too taken by the feeling of victory and the swell of power to notice a mere distraction as the last bits of both the Darkness and its magic settled upon her. Feeling the deceptively soft and inviting material of the hat’s wall, Belle bit her lip, said a hopeful prayer, and shoved the hat over to rest on its side, making sure to grasp the tip as she had seen detailed in her research, so that the opening, now seething as though it were a living and breathing thing, was pointed right at Morgana.

The sorceress’ unnaturally violet eyes landed on her then, widening in anger and zeroing in with a wicked shriek. “What are you doing, you measelly little girl? Haven’t you learned your lesson yet?” She made as if to stride forward and swipe the object from Belle’s grasp, but it was already too late. Belle had gotten the hat centered on their foe in time, and now Morgana was in its vortex, its sucking power already pulling at her robes and whipping her raven-dark hair about her head wildly, drawing her inexorably into itself.

“Nooooo…” the witch screeched, but she was already elongating in form, being swallowed up into the void of the Sorceror’s hat. Her final thwarted wail faded away slowly, even as Belle let her arms fall to the ground, nearly drained once more. But she couldn’t quite rest, no matter how much her body begged for it; they had to take this chance to be rid of the Darkness while they could - once and for all. 

The foreseeable immediate threat gone, she sensed almost as much as saw Graham shifting back into the man she loved, already calling her name as he ran to her side. Emma was closer, kneeling beside her and asking where she was hurt, what she could do, even as Killian still flanked them both, eyes sweeping the area as if waiting for more foes to descent. She could hear Rumple in the background, groaning and snivelling, but Belle struggled to focus just one minute more.

There! Right by Killian’s boot, near the once more nondescript looking pointed cloth hat lying calmly on the ground, was the dagger.  “Killian,” she gaped breathlessly. “The dagger, give it to me. Quick!”

Thankfully the pirate didn’t question her, merely bent, grabbed the item he had quested so long to hold in his hand, the means for his long postponed revenge at last in his grasp, and handed it over to her without even flinching.  It reiterated the difference between himself and his nemesis, Belle realized later when she thought back over the whole thing, how he could hand over the one thing he had once most desired due to the judgement that something else was better and worth the sacrifice. It was the same reason he had shown up as a human, even if his wolf was physically stronger. He wanted to support Emma, in whatever way would help her most, and so had done what allowed him to be most fully by her side. It was a sort of strength and power Rumplestiltskin had never mastered for all the magic he had held in his fingertips… the ability to share oneself fully with another and drawn strength from the bond.

Gripping the dagger’s hilt tightly, feeling the cool edges against her palm, the satisfying weight of it, now that it would finally be doing what it had been forged for, one way or another. She raised it as much as she could, and plunged the tip into the hat. Sharp steel sliced through material, piercing deep, and she waited, breath held tightly, the blade going all the way through both sides of the hat and into the ground beneath, until slowly, with a thick black cloud spewing forth before rising and evaporating into the sky, the hat disintegrated into nothingness itself. The hat was gone, and supposedly, hopefully, so was the Darkness at long last. Though it almost seemed to much to trust might finally be true after ages of battle to conquer it.

Tossing the weapon aside, Belle heaved a sigh of relief, glad she finally felt as if those around her, those she loved, were safe. As she did so however, the pain and the weakness crept back over her, making her vision swim sickly again.  Another violent throb of pain ratcheted through her, and she cried out in spite of herself, unprepared for the severity of it. She shivered, hardly registering that she felt as though she had gotten her legs in the water, even if that sensation made absolutely no sense.

“Belle!” she heard Graham’s hoarse tone call out to her in alarm, and then he was there, cradling her head and shoulder in his lap and begging Emma’s help; the only one of them who still had any sort of magic that might be able to fix whatever Rumple had done and was still wrecking havoc within her. It all seemed to be growing more distant and of less concern to her, as she let herself since back into her love’s comforting embrace. They were safe now, she thought, appeased from her own worry and self-recrimination with that knowledge. 

And then all was quiet.

Tagging a few who may enjoy: @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @therooksshiningknight @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @spartanguard @resident-of-storybrooke @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @darkcolinodonorgasm @ilovemesomekillianjones @revanmeetra87 @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @searchingwardrobes 

[snowbellewells]

Face to Face in the Broad Daylight///  Chapter Five

Okay folks, I am so sorry it has taken me this long to update my CSSNS MC again, but now that I have finished my other two shot for the event and have my @csseptembersunshine piece well in had, I’m ready to get back on track with this one. Hopefully, I won’t leave you waiting this long again in the last stretch of chapters. If you have been waiting patiently and are still ready to keep reading along with this adventure, THANK YOU so much!!! It means the world to me!

Thanks again to @cssns itself for giving me a place for this story to be posted and shown, and to @branlovestowrite for the gorgeous story banner that I love to bits!!

Previous chapters on AO3: Prologue  Chapter One  Chapter Two  Chapter Three       Chapter Four

And now, without further stalling...

~ chapter five: by the light of the moon

Of course, later that night, when it became clear that they had missed the mysterious newcomer in her meeting with Gold due to their “more pleasurable activities”, both Emma and Killian felt more than a bit of blushing chagrin - if not regret. Sneaking back into her own home while unsuccessfully hoping to evade her ever-curious son, who was more than anxious to hear how their stakeout had gone and what they had found, was more than a bit embarrassing for Emma when she had nothing to report because she had been busy letting her werewolf man bring her to the brink of pleasure - twice - instead of keeping her eyes peeled for signs of their foe. 

Still, glancing over to Killian at her side, making sure that their front door was closed and locked and their little family ensconced safely for the night, his protectiveness and leadership showing even in the most mundane and everyday of tasks, Emma couldn’t quite make herself regret their stolen moments. Though nearly half a year into the relationship now, it still felt fresh and new, each touch or kiss still as exciting and enflaming as the first, and though there was never as much time as she would like, Emma didn’t want that to fade, couldn’t stand to neglect it, and so would take her precious minutes with her lover wherever and whenever she could.

Cheeks still burning, she tried to stumble through Henry’s questions on their stakeout results without either disgusting, confusing or scarring him. Henry was perceptive enough to sense his mom’s unease, though, and to catch that she wasn’t telling him everything. His stubborn inquisitiveness - which she had to grudgingly admit in times like these probably came directly from her - was almost certainly getting ready to latch on for dear life when Killian stepped in tidily and managed to distract and redirect Henry.

“What it comes down to, lad,” Killian smoothly interjected, looking at her for a moment in confirmation of her willingness to allow him to step in. When she gave a minute nod of agreement, the warmth and gratitude that flooded his eyes was overwhelming enough to steal her breath. Quickly, he switched his attention back to an increasingly impatient 11-year-old, and continued, “is that we waited there for hours, but the way that Gold and his accomplice can poof about using their magic and not having to visibly walk somewhere as you or I would, allowed them to come and go right under our noses, regardless of our surveillance efforts. Now, I am a bit chilled, more than a mite hungry, and in need of stretching my legs a bit. What say you to some of that instant packaged beverage you and your mum are so enamored of, and a walk about the yard under the stars after? I can point out a few more of the constellations you were curious about…”

Henry nodded eagerly, sidetracked for the moment at least by a more appealing offer. Emma turned to offer Ruby, who been over at their house to keep an eye on Henry until they returned, a shrug of her shoulders and a ‘thank you’ for being willing to hold down the fort, only to be greeted by a wide, devious smile from her all-too-pleased looking friend.

“They slipped by you, huh?” she scoffed, raising a perfectly sculpted dark eyebrow in a feminine iteration of Killian’s expressiveness. “Hmmm,” her blood red manicured nails tapped at her chin as if she were thinking over the likelihood of their excuse, all the while eyeing Emma as if waiting for her to crack.

“Yeah, I guess so?” Emma tried to hedge, not sure what Ruby was getting at, but knowing she didn’t want to give the vivacious drama queen any ammunition. “I mean, I don’t use my magic to flit here and there invisibly, but I’m sure Gold’s pretty good at it,” she added almost defensively, crossing her arms over her chest.

Ruby leaned in, as if taking a whiff of some new perfume Emma was wearing, and shook her head in mock sympathy at Emma’s attempt to stall her. “Oh Emma, who are you kidding? You can’t fool a wolf, honey.  You and Killian were so busy with each other that Gold and this mystery woman could have walked right up and knocked on your fogged up car windows and you wouldn’t have noticed. Admit it.”  

Emma’s eyes widened at being caught, and Ruby grinned widely, showing all her teeth in a way that almost made Emma able to see the sleek predator she could become without the brunette’s even having to shift. “Ha! I knew it!” Ruby crowed. “I can smell him all over you, you know,” she added raucously, patting Emma on the arm in good natured gloating, “and you him. I hope you two were careful…”

“Ruby!” Emma almost squeaked in her indignance, not wanting Henry to run back into the room and hear any of this conversation. 

“Oh relax, Deputy,” she smiled, slinging her red purse over her shoulder and sauntering toward the door. “Don’t worry so much. Henry’s more than occupied trying to help your man use the microwave.” She pointed to her ear as if to indicate that her hearing was every bit as acute as her sense of smell and bid her friend a laughing goodbye, making an exit out the front door before an amused and exasperated Emma could make any further comment.

Instead, she trailed into the kitchen where her two guys were pulling out cups and dumping cocoa packets into heated water. She shook her head fondly and restrained herself from mentioning that it was a school night and they had better not stay up too late. Moving to reach into the upper kitchen cabinet for their large Thermos, thinking that would work better than open mugs to keep their drinks warm and unspilled, she felt Killian’s warm frame pressed deliciously along her back as he placed a gentle, staying hand to her hip and reached over her easily with his greater height to snag the Thermos handle with his hook and retrieve it for her. He planted a quick kiss at her nape that made a tremor snake along her spine, and even though they had just enjoyed each other’s enthusiastic ministrations but an hour or so earlier, he gave a surreptitious thrust of his hips against her backside - thankfully unnoticed by Henry, who was leaning into the refrigerator in search of the whipped cream - that, though playful, made it blatantly obvious he still wanted her, and made her need to have him once again begin simmering in her veins as well.

Hot chocolate made, the two loves of her life were soon crossing the moonlit grass of the backyard, heading down to the dock Killian had built where their property met the water. They had a perfect, clear view of the night sky’s canvas there, free of tree branches, light poles, and other obstructions.

Having dragged a warm afghan from the surplus of bedding they kept in the mud room for camping trips and the like, Emma curled up on the porch swing to wait for their return and guard their drink. With the blanket wrapped around her shoulders and her feet tucked up beneath its warmth, she squinted toward where she knew her son and her pirate were, their voices echoing back to her over the water, and her heart swelling as she did so, glad beyond measure that Henry and Killian were naturally growing close, sharing such moments together; it was all she could have hoped for.

When they did return to her, Henry took a seat at the other end of the swing, having somehow gotten taller and lankier right before her eyes, and Killian slid in behind her, her back against him as she reclined comfortably into his side, his arm coming up to cradle her. It was clear that even for an over-exuberant and wise-beyond-his-years 12-year-old, the hour was growing late and her son was fighting off sleep. His eyelids fluttered, and he began to slowly slump, then jerk back into upright wakefulness three times before he finally leaned over against his mom’s drawn-up legs and succumbed to peaceful rest.

“I’ll need to take him up to his room before he takes a chill,” Killian said conscientiously, and Emma felt him beginning to shift to do so, but she put a stalling hand to his thigh.

“Thank you,” she murmured, “for caring for him so much. For… for treating him like he’s your own.” She paused, then let that heartfelt statement hopefully sink in as he pressed her hand within his. Then she added, “You’re right of course, Killian, but… can we just… stay here another minute or two? It’s so peaceful tonight.”

“Aye Love,” his voice rumbled, his whiskered cheeks rubbing along her hair line, his lips at her ear as he continued, the sensuous heat of earlier having settled into a gentler glow of devoted warmth. “As you wish.”

They sat in silence, content to simply enjoy each other’s presence and sip hot chocolate for a few long, perfect moments before Killian spoke again, gesturing up at the sky as he did so, directing her gaze to a constellation just visible past the edge of the roof. “See that formation there, Lass?”

Emma followed where he was directing her, seeing the cluster of stars he had indicated, and nodding drowsily, so relaxed and happy right then in Killian’s arms, that she could almost drift away to join Henry in dreamland if she weren’t so curious to see what her sailor wanted to show her.

“That’s Cygnus, Love...the Swan.” He breathed the words into her skin, their licking flames along her nerve endings awakening and igniting her once more, even as he was still offering the sort of flattery that might as well form sonnets on that honeyed tongue of his. “Your own constellation, Emma. Did you know that? Though none of those star’s brightness is an equal to you.”

“Smooth talker,” she scoffed easily, reaching up to run a hand along his bristled jawline, relishing the strength of it, and then trailing her fingers back to his rather adorably pointed ear, scruffing behind it almost as she would do to a true canine. The low rumbling of satisfaction that escaped Killian’s throat made her bite back a smile, sure that if he had a tail he would be wagging it in that moment. She felt the tremor in his wiry frame as she was this time the one to make him shiver with desire.

“Every word is the truth,” he returned sincerely, despite the rasp in his voice, as he ran a reverent hand through her long hair, fingers lightly brushing the silky strands as carefully as though he really were handling the sort of golden treasure a pirate such as himself would crave.

Shaking her head, not really knowing how to accept such praise, even in private and genuinely meant, she hauled herself to her feet and out of the cozy nest of his embrace on the swing. “Come on, you ridiculous flirt,” she directed, no real heat or irritation in her tone. “Time for us to get Henry to bed before we all end up spending the night in the chill.”

No fool, and able to read her every mood and mannerism easily, Killian knew what she was doing, but didn’t challenge her. Instead, he stood as well, stooping to lift Henry’s lax and slumbering frame over his shoulder and follow Emma to the lad’s bedroom as she opened doors and ushered them along the way without collision. Once the sleeping preteen, still dead to the world and letting out the faintest wheeze of a snore, was back in his own room, lowered to the bed where he curled up on one side blissfully unaware of his change in locale, Killian stood back to his full height, but lingered, looking on fondly as Emma pulled Henry’s blanket up to cover his ever-stretching body and swept a hand through his chocolate-dark hair to brush it off his forehead. To think that he could have this amazing woman - the Savior! - and her boy in his life, that he was now a part of such things as bedtime routines and algebra homework made his heart swell to such fullness that Kilian wondered how much it could withstand.

By the time they were slipping down the hall to their own boudoir, Emma’s hand in his as they opened the door and undressed quietly on opposite sides of the large, comfy bed, the flames of desire that had been licking beneath his skin had been banked to a steady, lingering ember. As Emma scooted across the mattress and curled into his chest, her old, thigh-length T-shirt cotton meeting his bare chest and flannel pants-covered legs, he was more than content to enjoy the calmer glow simmering between them. In fact, as his eyes closed, Killian couldn’t help feeling that this quieter, less appreciated moment was everything.

~~~**~~~**~~~**~~~

Some few days later, all the way across Storybrooke and in the midst of the woods, another of their hero band was finding much less peace. Well into the darkest stretch of the night, Belle was still wide awake at the small desk in the corner of the bedroom in Graham’s forest cabin. She was no less thrilled at being separated from her own library and apartment as she had been when Graham first suggested the precaution of staying with him, but she had since equipped herself accordingly and made do on restless nights. Sitting up a bit straighter and attempting to work a kink from her neck and shoulders after reading bent over the text in dim lamplight for so long, she winced sharply, bringing her palm to cradle the side of her stomach as the babe within made its displeasure known at her movement.

Though she logically knew it was much too early for the small fetus to be moving, or for her to be showing, both were happening all the same. She saw a small bulge even after donning her bright yellow dress that morning, and Graham had commented on it in equally awed and worried tones as he had served her breakfast when she came down the stairs. Not only that, but it would seem their pup shared its father’s restless need to roam and run if the near-constant shifts and kicks she felt against her hand whenever she rested it over her womb were any indication. There was no use doubting the heightened time frame of werewolf gestation now, not when she was clearly living it.

Regardless of the pangs and twinges she felt, Belle also had more weighty concerns pressing down upon her shoulders. With her boyfriend’s amiable help and handy muscle, she had managed to lug so many books to her temporary dwelling that Graham had playfully teased that there couldn’t be much left for the rest of the town to read. Still, though she had been somewhat vindicated in the sheer volume of materials transported by the fact that the seeming answer to what Rumple and his new conspirator could be after lay before her eyes, Belle couldn’t feel much victory over the new dread it instilled.

The pages of the dusty old tome open on the the desk before her detailed a magical object once rumored to have belonged to Merlin of Camelot himself. Supposedly it had been crafted by the fabled wizard to contain the vengeful powers of the Darkness after it swallowed the woman Merlin had loved and twisted her into the first Dark One. On the weathered old paper, it looked rather inconsequential, a metallic cylinder which could apparently open into what looked like a sorceror’s tall pointed hat, but Belle knew better than most that appearances were often deceiving. Consequently, she felt sure that if Rumple got his hands on it, the hat could quite probably do as the book said. Belle shivered at the probable repercussions the moment they entered her mind: he might well free himself from his dagger’s control without sacrificing his power. It was all he had ever wanted, she realized with sinking certainty, and without the tether Emma had used his dagger to place upon him, Rumple would without doubt wreck pain and retribution on them all.

Except maybe...Belle paused, reluctant to even ponder the chance that entered her mind, desperate for an avenue which might protect those she loved, and yet fearful that she might have to take the only one she could come up with. She might be able to go to him - alone - might be able to reach the man beyond the Beast, the heart of the good person Rumple had once been long ago, as she had done before.

She didn’t relish it; in fact, her skin crawled with disgust and dread, both in fear at how it might backfire and at the lies she would have to weave, both to manipulate the master of deception and fine print, and to her own heart and the father of her child, whom she would need to slip away from and leave behind to stand even a chance of enacting her plan. 

The child within seemed to roll over in protest at the very idea she was considering. Looking across the room to the bed where Graham lay deep in slumber, his lean, bronzed form sprawled diagonally over the mattress, sheet barely coming up to drape across his hipbone, making Belle flush at the delectable sight. His strong, calloused hands lay lax upon the pillow and his honeyed mass of boyishly youthful curls stood up like untamed corkscrews from his scalp, but he didn’t move. She placed her hand on the part of her stomach where their little one rested, needlessly shushing their restless pup. Knowing she didn’t have long before her man woke and his faultless lupine senses found her and brought her back to safety, Belle was already on her feet, dressed once more, and gathering a few needed items to take with her.

She had to try she reasoned with herself, attempting to quell the pangs of conscience troubling her over how beside himself Graham would be when he woke to find her gone. This wasn’t just for her own life and happiness, but for all of them. If Rumple might listen to her, if she could reason with the small part of him which had once cared for her - though never enough to win out over his magic, her mind cautioned unhelpfully - then she might stand a chance at stopping his wrath.

Looking back to the pages she had been studying on ancient Camelot and Merlin’s attempt to curtail the reach of the Darkness, she wanted to make sure that she understood how the talisman worked, the shape it would appear in, and what Rumple must intend to do with it. If she was really considering going to him, to try to make a deal of some sort or broker peace, then she needed to be prepared. She wasn’t naive enough to think that the move wouldn’t be dangerous - and yet her sense of duty and care for the welfare of others wouldn’t allow her to sit back and wait for attack. She had known Rumplestiltskin longer and better than most could claim, and she was no longer hampered by the rose-colored glasses that had once tinted her judgement of his actions and and intent with a falsely hopeful hue. The inability to go after Killian and Graham most especially, but all of those who had attempted to hold him back or control him had to have been festering inside, growing his resentment insidiously ever since they had found his dagger and Emma had used it to effectively neutralize him as a threat.

Belle knew better now; nothing could keep the Beast inside - the larger part of the man she had tried to change, the part she had disastrously attempted to ignore to her own pain and suffering - from his chosen course forever. She knew what she was after, and what she had to do, and she was the only one who stood even a chance of stalling Rumple long enough to make him listen. If she didn’t, Emma and Killian, both of whom she now counted as dear friends, would be in the immediate line of fire - and soon.

As far as she could discern from the information before her, the moon would be at its fullest in just a little over an hour. It would be the best time for Rumple and his shadowy accomplice to attempt the ceremony she dreaded they had in mind. If the accounting she had found at last, after a week of frenzied searching, was at all accurate, they intended to use this talisman to free the Dark One from his leash. He would retain all his considerable power - and the imminent threat it posed - but the dagger would no longer restrain him or bring him to heel. And she knew, certain as the sun rose, that he would be coming for all those she held dear.

Sighing regretfully, Belle made to sneak quickly from the room. She had purposefully waited until she had just enough time to reach the lake before the moon reached its zenith; that was how she had wanted it, so that if her Huntsman woke and hurried after to stop her, he couldn’t reach her before she could get to her destination. Aching to lean down and kiss his brow, smooth in peaceful sleep as it never seemed in wakefulness, and brush back his riotous hair, she refrained for fear of waking him, instead leaving a note that assured him of her love, and that she hoped to return as soon as possible. She hurried out the door before she could linger too long and miss her chance. He would want to go with her - no, go in her place - but he had been hurt too much already. He was always so noble and so selfless, but this time she meant to protect him.

The body of water she had chosen as her best option for finding their meeting place was not that far a trek in all honesty. Even on foot, as she intended to go to maintain secrecy and quiet, it wouldn’t take her more than twenty minutes to hike to the stand of trees keeping sentinel at its side. She might be a bit winded by the time she reached the small rise beyond which she hoped would give her a vantage point, but she was hoping the time spent traveling, and the open sky and fresh air, would steady her jangling nerves and steel her resolve.

Not only had Graham’s first sighting of the stranger in their midst been beside that small body of water, but Belle was beginning to fear - from both her research and the telling quiver in her gut - that the woman Gold was meeting with was none other than the ancient, and evil, sorceress Morgana leFay herself. For one thing, Morgana was the most likely villainess to have helped Gold locate the Sorceror’s Hat forged by Merlin, and could possibly even have brought it to him from Camelot, depending on how close their association or what the Dark One might have to hold over Morgana’s head. The medieval witch was also commonly known to have a tie to water and lakes - some of her most fabled exploits happening near them in the Arthurian stories of old.

Needless to say, it was the best hunch Belle had to go on, and by the time she crested the same bluff her lover must have stood on some days before, looking down into the valley awash with moonlight and starshine glinting off the gently rippling waters, she felt both impatient and hesitant for whatever sight might greet her below. Reacting to her heightened nerves and the adrenaline which had brought her that far, the little one within began kicking hard against her side once again in protest as Belle planted her palm against a tree trunk, leaning on it for a moment as she caught her breath. Once her pulse steadied, Belle crept forward, hoping to peer over the rise of the embankment without being seen herself.

However, what she saw chilled the very blood in her veins, her mouth drying out in frightened horror. As if awaiting her arrival for a reluctant witness, two shrouded figures turned toward the lake, one clearly Rumple in bearing with his signature cane at his side. Even as she watched, breathless, appalled that she might already be too late and have no way to stop what was in motion, Belle couldn’t help inching a bit closer to the brink, her curious mind still wondering even in the midst of her fear.

As she did so, small bits of dirt and pebbles shifted and fell down the rise toward the rocky shore below. She jerked backwards, afraid they would be noticed as larger rocks and clods were gathered in their wake, soft, pattering, falling noises sounding along with them as well. Though it was far from a tumbling avalanche, in the hush of the charged atmosphere it seemed incredibly loud. And the damage had already been done.

Both figures at the water’s edge swung around from the lake at the unexpected movement and sound behind them. Despite Morgana’s already having down something to make the surface swirl like an ominous whirlpool, lit at intervals by sinister lightning flashes from within and casting a greenish glow over the surroundings, neither one had missed Belle’s ill-timed blunder and were scanning the area sharply, on the alert.

Though she dared not stir further, or even breathe, it was all for naught. Whether by some sixth sense or vast magical skill, her location had already been pinpointed. Morgana raised her right hand with an almost regal ease, palm out toward Belle, and beckoned her forward, the gesture ultimately proving to be a command the petite librarian simply couldn’t fight. Compelled as if her limbs and motions were not her own, Belle found herself drawn forward from her hiding spot and down the gentle slope at a steady, unwavering pace she was unable to stop, and momentarily she found herself standing before her former guardian and his powerful compatriot, still held motionless and silent by whatever command had drawn her forward.

The enchantress chuckled lightly, a wickedly sharp-nailed finger raising the Belle’s chin to meet her maliciously gleaming eyes. “You are a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” she asked with false compliment. “No need for you to lurk in the shadows.”

Rumple drew nearer then, leaning in until Belle shivered despite her inability to move in any other capacity. She didn’t know whether to expect anger, gloating, wistful explanation or some mix of all of them from this man and beast she had once tried to show love. Shaking his head as if he could truly feel sadness or regret, he brushed a hand along her cheek in a lingering touch she wanted badly to shake off. Yet she couldn’t even narrow her eyes in warning.

“My, my, Belle,” he murmured at last, his voice soft and sleek, but no less dangerous than a coiled snake lying in wait. “I thought you wanted nothing more to do with me, hmm?”

She longed to spit  a response to that, to accuse him for whatever doom he was about to unleash upon his home and all of those around him just to get what he wanted, to snap out that though an actual wild animal resided beneath Graham’s skin, he was nothing like the beast Rumplestiltskin had allowed himself to become. Still, it was all trapped within her throat by the spell holding her captive.

Shaking his head slightly, the Dark One tsked at her as if he were a gently chiding parent with a wayward child. “Oh dearie, dearie, dear… you have gotten yourself into trouble this time, haven’t you my little bookworm?  Whatever are we going to do with you?”

Tagging: @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @therooksshiningknight @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @spartanguard @resident-of-storybrooke @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @darkcolinodonorgasm @ilovemesomekillianjones @revanmeetra87 @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @searchingwardrobes

[snowbellewells]

Face to Face in the Broad Daylight:  Chapter Four

I really can’t apologize enough for the long wait between chapters here.  There all sorts of plausible excuses, but I’ve basically just fallen behind with starting back to school and getting into the teaching routine again. Hopefully, I won’t keep you waiting on this story so long again, and that you will still enjoy what I’ve cooked up this time around...

Also, I still don’t think it quite needs an M rating, but fair warning, Emma and Killian do get up to a bit of mischief on a stakeout...

Thanks again to @branlovestowrite for the gorgeous story banner; I continue to just love it and smile every time I add it to the chapter post.  And to @cssns for inspiring so many wonderful stories and such a fun community outlet. I’m so glad it gave my little werewolf story an outlet and a reason for me to finally get down to business and commit to it the page!

~chapter four: sinister stirrings, signs of life

Gold did not allow his accomplice’s taunt to hang in the air for long; instead, speculation lit his serpentine eyes with cunning curiosity. “And just what is your price, Morgana? What is it that a powerful witch like you cannot simply conjure for yourself with ease?”

“I seek vengeance,” she bit out, tone icy cold with the fierce utterance. “For my father’s life, for my mother’s pain… and what I have lost to that ingrate King… Arthur of Camelot.” She spat the famed appellation, which most spoke in reverence, with a venom that momentarily surprised even the Dark One.

A knowing, secretive smile crept over his sharp face; no other words necessary for him to understand what drove her. He had after all seen the quest for revenge bring many a man and woman to his door, willing to take his wretched deals whatever the cost, and then meet their doom, or at least soul’s ruin. He and the would-have-been Duchess of Cornwall had much in common, and always had. Both believed the world to have slighted them, and both plotting, scheming, grasping every bit of what they felt was their due wherever they could. Perhaps she would grow a bit too desperate, and he could then be certain of the upper hand in their arrangement. He would simply watch and wait to see.

Morgana, on the other hand, was not idle, even as she finally handed the contained hat over to Gold and began to move around his shop with mild interest as he examined the token ravenously. Just as her former mentor sensed her fervent desire and impatience, the seething rage pushing her forward, she could also read his extreme confidence, his discounting of the worthy mind and abilities she had cultivated since the time he had known her well. He thought she would be easy to manipulate; powerful enough to provide the assistance he needed, but not a true threat to his own mastery of the exchange. 

He misjudged both her magical strength - and her loyalty. She had learned that no one could be trusted but herself. Though she was willing to side with him while it proved beneficial, she would not sacrifice her own goal, nor confuse a healthy respect with true devotion. Rumplestiltskin foolishly believed her indebted to him, simply because he had discovered where to summon the hat from Merlin’s safekeeping. That mattered little when she was the one who had retrieved it; she was the one he had needed to complete his task. Their purposes were not truthfully as aligned as he thought, yet she felt no qualms at playing along until it was too late for even the Dark One himself to stop her or ruin her plans. He saw her as a willing and able pawn, and she would let him do so for the time being. As long as he gave her the hat as promised when he was done, and she could increase her power, take it back to Camelot, usurp Arthur, and gain her revenge, she cared little how Gold’s plan worked out.  His power would be the first she would harness for her own devices - his and all the other Dark Ones who had come before - once the time was right.

“That seems only fair,” Rumplestiltskin spoke in his slick, indulgent tones that might fool someone who didn’t know him as well as Morgana did. Though neither fully trusted the other - nor any beyond themselves - the sorceror before her did seem near tittering with subdued malevolent glee. He really was an imp to his core, delighting in the fall of those who took might and control by vicious means, even if that downfall was not of his own making. “King Uther, Arthur’s father, did indeed wrong your family greatly.”

“I know that,” she snapped, eyes burning as they swung to his in sudden anger. “You needn’t recount the injustices! I remember them well.” Her fine, white hands clenched and unclenched, as her deceptively thin shoulders heaved. She was practically seething from every pore.

Unfazed, the Dark One stepped nearer, cradling his precious talisman in one hand as he wagged his forefinger at her teasingly. She wanted to snap the digit at its joint, but instead held her tongue stonily. “Easy there, Dearie,” Gold chided in his infuriating manner of jest. “Flying off the handle like that can lead to dangerous mistakes.”  He winked at her before turning to leave, clearly unconcerned with her alone in his shop to wreck it if the desire took her.

Morgana’s voice rang out quickly, before he could vanish in a puff of his magic, stopping him with the sort of ringing command he couldn’t ignore. “Midnight, a week from now, when the moon is at its fullest… If you wish for my help, you will bring the Sorceror’s Hat to the lakeside when the lunar orbit reaches the zenith. We will perform the ceremony, and then the hat will be mine once it has served its purpose for you. Do we have an accord?”

“Certainly, certainly,” Gold chimed, and though his tone was soft and sibilant, Morgana could hear the eagerness, the urgency for his full freedom and command of his power running beneath. She wasn’t the only one whose need for retribution had them chomping at the bit.

All that remained, she considered saying as the bell tinkled after Rumplestiltskin’s exit, was to see who would allow their quest to be their undoing. Then, without another moment’s hesitation, she vanished from the spot as well in her own column of cobalt blue smoke.

~~***~~***~~***~~

Once again nighttime darkness reigned over the quiet streets of Storybrooke. The main street, lined with storefronts, the Sheriff’s station, and the cheerily butter-yellow Town Hall, was so still and calm by 9:30 that one might think the place either deserted or inhabited entirely by senior citizens, Emma thought with a wry shake of her head and exhaled breath as she sat watching the scene before them from her usual work parking space. Apparently, fairy tale characters exiled in the “real world” adhered to a similar early bird schedule.  She was in the more roomy back seat of her Bug, not expecting to see much of anything that would require her to pull out quickly, and needing to sit somewhat turned in the seat to keep her eyes on Gold’s shop, a Thermos of hot chocolate on hand to warm her insides as the night grew more chilled, and Killian cuddled against her side assuringly, something in his lupine makeup keeping him always a few degrees warmer than the average human.

Reading her mild amusement as easily as he seemed to do with all her changes in mood and emotion, Killian leaned in to whisper against her ear, his scruffy whiskers raking deliciously across her cheek and neck. “What is it, Swan? Did I miss something humorous?”

Emma shook her head with a chuckle, swiveling a bit to look at his quirked brow and curious face more clearly. His crystalline, sea-blue eyes twinkled as if he could already anticipate her answer, and in that moment, Emma genuinely wanted nothing more than to kiss him senseless, plant little pecks all over his forehead and cheeks and chin, just for sitting there with her, for always being by her side, and for being her ridiculous, handsome, dependable companion, whatever new surprise or danger came their way. Though she managed to hold back the outburst of affection, she still couldn’t help the frisson of awareness that ran through her veins at his nearness, even while proceeding to answer his simple question. “No, nothing funny really, just thinking how there truly is no night life here. It’s not even ten o’clock, and there’s no one out on the street!”

“Aye,” Killian nodded conversationally in agreement. “You’ve a point there. Any port town in which the Jolly ever docked - regardless of how small or remote - was more lively than our little town currently.”

Both fell silent once more, eyes unavoidably drawn to the entrance of the darkened pawn shop, looking deceptively closed and shuttered,but nevertheless the reason they were sitting on the street in a stakeout and wondering whether or not they should trust the seeming peace of the night around them.  “Exactly,” she smirked at his comment, against her better judgement leaning closer as she did. She could feel that the spark always burning between them, fanned by both recent interrupted assignations, was still simmering hotly, barely banked by more pressing concerns, and knew that the right sort of look or touch might well be all that was needed to set it aflame once more. And yet, she couldn’t find it in herself to resist.

Killian reacted just as she had hoped, his response to her invitation almost immediate, hand balancing him on the seat beside her as he leaned even closer than they had already been seated, his breath warming her forehead as he exhaled and his hook tracing a purposeful path up her jean-clad thigh. “Looking for a bit more excitement, are you Darling?” he questioned devilishly, his lips and tongue pronouncing each sound and syllable of the words in a manner that left tingles racing up and down her spine. 

The intentional progress of his metal appendage swung inward to trace along her pants inseam, ever closer to the goal, and Emma swallowed hard, irrationally embarrassed that he might already feel the heat radiating from her center and how her pulse seemed to be throbbing there noticeably. It was all she could do not to start shedding layers and crawl into his lap. She could only nod eagerly for several tensely heated seconds before finally affirming breathily. “What if I am, Pirate? Are you gonna do something about it?”

Killian’s heavy, dark eyebrows practically danced across his forehead merrily, as if she’d given him a present with her challenge. The tip of his wicked tongue poked from between his full, tempting lips before tracing along the lower one as if he had just glimpsed a meal her wanted to devour. “Oh, you know I will, Emma. Don’t you even doubt it.”

In the next instant, he seemed to pounce, his warm weight pressing her back against the leather upholstery of the Bug’s rear bench seat, as that tongue swept into her mouth to lay claim. The curved edge of his hook found its goal at last, putting delicious cool pressure against her still-clothed heated core and making her moan shamelessly into his mouth in return.

“Oh...Ki - Killian!... Please…. Ummm…” she raised her hips almost unconsciously, bucking toward his questing hook, and the added stimulation of his hand, which had now managed to slip under her shirt, up her side to her heaving chest. Emma forgot all about Gold, the newcomer, and why they were outside in her car at all, between the way his hand and hook were making her feel and his lips suddenly veering from her own to wander along her jaw back to the sensitive spot behind her ear, driving her even more out of her mind. She would swear under oath that she shouldn’t be held responsible when her desperately clutching hands pulled so hard at his shirt in her haste to touch him too and hold onto something to ground herself that she heard the sound of ripping fabric over her own gasp and whimper of need.

Not in the least disturbed by wardrobe damage - he had lost count of how many shirts and pants his wolf had destroyed in transformation ages ago - Killian merely chuckled with indulgent pride at the effect he was clearly having on his usually cool and collected girlfriend. It wasn’t lost on him that Emma rarely allowed herself to let go of control so completely. Splayed before him openly, eyes half-closed in bliss, Emma was offering him the trust and vulnerability few others received from her, and it awed him all the more beyond what her beauty had already accomplished. Not wanting the swell of emotion to derail them, now that they had at last managed to preserve a long enough moment alone, he bent his head back to the task before him. He nearly lost a handful of hair when a few seconds later he caught the lobe of her ear between his teeth and bit down playfully, not expecting the force with which Emma grasped the dark strands between her fingers as she keened breathlessly.

The wicked smile that quirked his lips as he murmured into her neck, “Feeling lively enough now?” was entirely unavoidable, if he did say so himself. For a moment, he allowed his mind to gloat inwardly as her pants seemed to indicate his Swan incapable of speech from his pleasurable ministrations.

Letting down one’s guard around Emma was never wise, however, as he was soon letting out an indecently loud and tormented groan of his own satisfaction. Somehow, while he had been occupied with tracing patterns over her collarbone with teeth and tongue, she had worked a clever hand into his tight jeans and dealt him more than enough taste of his own medicine.

“Ah!  Wh- Swan…” he choked, his own head falling forward to rest on her shoulder as she squeezed and pumped delicately in the limited space she had to work with.  “Mmm, love...easy does it,” he finally managed to grind out after riding the sensation for a minute. “Much more of that and you’ll bring the night to completion before I can finish what I started.”

Reluctantly his bold lass did release him and pull back slightly, one sculpted eyebrow arched in what could only be the beguilingly feminine equivalent of the look he had given her so many times before. “Can’t have that now, can we?” she teased gently, stroking along his stomach muscles, which quivered in response to her touch and practically smirking up at him.

“Certainly not, Love. It would be poor form indeed to leave a lady such as yourself unsatisfied.” He licked his lips salaciously, but meant every word, and the way she threw back her head with a wholehearted guffaw of laughter made him certain she knew it too.

“Well then, Captain,” she purred, pulling him in once more by the charms that hung around his neck. “Let’s see you make good on your word.”

Pressing forward with a deep, almost feral sounding growl, part his own desire and part his wolf within howling to break free, he lay her back unresistingly on the seat beneath them, spread out before him like a delectable banquet feast.

When they surfaced some time later, bare and skin glistening with sweat from their enjoyable activities, they had already missed both clouds of magic and the reappearance outside the shop of their new female nemesis - the reason they had been waiting in the car in the first place. Still, even if they had been less than purposeful, as they rested together, sated and entwined in each other’s arms, neither Emma nor Killian could bring themselves to mind.

~~~**~~~**~~~**~~~

After checking in with Emma and Killian at the station - and gathering a much clearer picture of how his deputy and her beau were progressing as a couple than he had needed or wished to have - making sure they had been alerted about the strange woman he had seen at daybreak, Graham was more than anxious to see his own lady love once more. Firstly, because he longed to be at her side, to see her happy, every second of each day that it was reasonably possible; a truly jarring sensation for a man who had up until that point led a quiet, solitary life and thought himself reasonably satisfied, but a sensation he had warmed to and treasured all the same. And secondly, knowing that she carried their pup - a child conceived of their love for each other - in her womb made the normal protective urges he already struggled to manage at normal levels exponentially stronger. To think that Gold still lurked around town and must wish to win - or coerce or steal - Belle back to himself worried Graham enough on a daily basis, but the attack on Granny and this obviously magical stranger’s appearance had him all the more on edge. No, Belle might argue that she was quite alright and could take care of herself, but he intended to stick quite close by whenever his duties as Sheriff allowed, and he might just speak to David and Snow about seeing if someone could stay nearby, just in case, when he could not. He would simply bear her annoyance and exasperation with his fussing as best he could; it was much better than seeing any harm come to her.

Letting his mind return to that morning, Graham thought back on how, after sighting the cloaked woman by the lake, he had hastened back to his cabin with extra speed, shifting on the porch back into his lanky human form so as to let himself in with ease and check on Belle where he had left her sleeping. The sight of her peaceful in repose beneath the moss-green cotton sheets upon the bed, her auburn hair spread out across the pillow, and the softest little purr of a snore escaping her pretty lips, had made him loathe to wake her.

Shirtless and barefoot, clad only in the grey sweatpants he slipped on for decency once human again, he padded across the smooth hardwood floor simply watching her sleep for a few seconds longer with an adoring smile on his face. He had never seen her look so serene, stunning in her sweet fragility, her petite beauty and kind nature concealing what he knew to be a backbone of strongest steel. Still, however much he hated to rouse her from much-needed rest, she had made him promise to take her with him back into town this morning. She was not content to hide out and wait passively until all was safe. And even if it was only researching information that might help prepare the rest of them for the storm they all knew was coming, or finding any accounts which might might better inform the two of them on the little one they were awaiting, she would not settle for anything less than doing her part, in her library, surrounded and aided by her beloved books.

Perching lightly on the mattress near her hip, Graham reached out a large, calloused hand, with a gentleness he hadn’t even known he possessed (having never known a tender touch until this tiny spitfire of a woman came into his life) lifted a loose strand of hair from her velvet-soft cheek and tucked it behind her ear. As he had known it would, even such a light touch had her stirring, beginning to stretch and slowly wake.

Now that his duties for the day were mostly complete, it eased his soul to once more slip into the cool, enveloping shadows and hushed, welcoming space of the town library. He could feel the taunt hunch of his shoulders relax within seconds of entering his love’s hallowed space, at the sound of Belle’s voice farther within the stacks, directing someone he could not yet see. Perhaps one of their friends had already had the same thoughts he did and undertaken to keep her company.

Venturing on silent feet, long accustomed to moving swiftly and without sound on the forest floors and castle courtyards of their old world, Graham stepped into one of the larger conference rooms toward the back of the library, one appointed with a large study table and numerous chairs for large groups. He leaned against the doorframe there, happy just to watch and enjoy the comfort and relief of once more being in her presence and seeing her in her element.

The Hatter in their world - Jefferson, Graham believed he went by here, was the first other person he saw. He recalled with a wince that this man had also been painfully manipulated by Regina - both in the Enchanted Forest past and their small town present. He knew with the same guilt-ridden certainty that he had realized Belle could have been freed from her imprisonment sooner if he had been quicker to awaken and act, that he had probably passed Jefferson on the steps of the mayoral mansion or in the frigid labyrinths of the Town Hall, but both had been too ashamed at being ensnared or indebted, or in some way under the command of the Evil Queen, to look up and meet the other’s eyes, to see a fellow sufferer or brother-in-arms. If nothing else, he reminded himself pushing off the doorjamb and moving into the well-lit and enlivened conversation humming around him, at least now he was beginning to see just how many friends there truly were here, as well as foes. Good people who could be relied upon and were hoping for the chance to regain their lives, just as much as he and Belle were.

His adorable librarian was chatting happily with both Jefferson’s daughter Grace and Henry, who were all too content with darting back and forth from the stacks for any book Belle could think of to request - all of them trying to keep her seated and off her feet. Coming to her side eagerly, Graham leaned over to kiss her cheek, even as she turned her head upward to greet him with a welcoming grin.

“It’s good to see you,” he whispered in her ear, letting his scruff tickle along her skin slightly, making her giggle and tuck her chin toward her chest.

Still, she caught his hand and squeezed it back affectionately, holding on and pulling it down to rest his palm over her still-flat stomach.

His brow furrowed, confused, even as she beamed at him to wait and be patient. It was much to early for him to be feeling any sort of movement from their little one; Belle wasn’t even showing. He was more than a little puzzled, and a bit concerned if the truth were told, but willing to humor her, and so stilled dutifully, waiting for he knew not what.

Then, abruptly, a definite jolt jarred his large hand from where it rested against Belle’s stomach. Eyes widening almost comically as they darted up to her face, he felt as much as saw Belle suck in an excited breath as she nodded her head in enthusiastic affirmation.

“Wait, but, it can’t be… It’s too soon…” he sputtered. “Are you sure?  Should we take you to Whale?  Are you hurting at all, Darling?”

The flow of words was almost more than she had ever heard her gentle huntsman say at once, but no more than she expected. Still, she tried to implore him in her gaze and the steady pressure on his hand to calm, that she had learned some things about her particular pregnancy and she would fill him in, but she wasn’t in pain, and she wasn’t concerned or frightened - though she had known he would be, for her. Guiding his hand still, she brought it to her lips to gently kiss the back of it, hoping to soothe him. She merely wanted to share this miracle with this precious man, the depth of her joy causing tears to well in her eyes.

They were still for several grounding moments, and when she lifted her gaze to meet Graham’s once more, she saw that same welling of love and astonishment in his eyes as well.

Tagging: @cssns @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @therooksshiningknight  @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @resident-of-storybrooke @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @gingerchangeling @ilovemesomekillianjones @spartanguard @whimsicallyenchantedrose @searchingwardrobes @laschatzi @darkcolinodonorgasm

[snowbellewells]

Face to Face in the Broad Daylight: Prologue

(Here we have a sequel to my werewolf, alternate season two and beyond fic from last year’s CSSNS. This one partially exists just because I wanted to revisit these couples and enjoy a bit more of their fluffy happily ever afters. However, we may also see them get into some new surprises and challenges, and of course we need to see if Rumplestiltskin is still under control or back to his usual scheming and plotting. I hope you will enjoy.  I’m so glad to be part of this event again, and this is just the opening chapter. I hope to update once a week until it’s finished.)

Thank you SO MUCH to @branlovestowrite for the amazing story banner, which I just loved. All four of our main characters look so happy and in love, which just makes me grin looking at it.

Tagging: @cssns @kmomof4 @hollyethecurious @searchingwardrobes @laschatzi @spartanguard @revanmeetra87 @teamhook @darkcolinodonorgasm @resident-of-storybrooke @winterbaby89 @ilovemesomekillianjones @bmbbcs4evr @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @let-it-raines @therooksshiningknight 

If you missed last year’s story, to which this is a sequel, you can find it here: ff.net, AO3

“Face to Face in the Broad Daylight”

by: @snowbellewells

~~ prologue: altogether in one place

As a cooling breeze blew in off the water of the harbor to combat the bright heat of an early May afternoon, Killian Jones smiled easily, enjoying the trace of air over his neck and ruffling his dark hair as he headed back up the street from the docks toward the center of town. It was a perfect day for the celebration he was on his way to attend, planning to meet Emma and Henry at the pretty little two bedroom cottage not far from the harbor that they moved into some weeks past, before the three of them walked the rest of the way to Granny’s together. The rest of their family and several friends were doubtless already gathering at the diner’s outdoor tables for the planned picnic. It was Mother’s Day, and the first which Emma would be able to spend with her mother, and with her boy as well. Killian smiled fondly at the tentative joy mixed with nervous anticipation on his love’s face as they’d spoken of it laying side-by-side that very morning. His heart had warmed right along with dawn’s first rays peeking through the curtains, glad that Emma could have her loved ones surrounding her, as she always should have. Though his own mother had been gone so long that he only retained the barest memories of a gentle voice singing to him and the twinkle in kind, loving eyes, he still felt not a fiber of his being to be jealous or begrudging of the wealth of love and belonging his lady had found. Emma deserved it all, and more besides.

It helped, he admitted to himself as he neared the front walk, their yard surrounded by white picket fence that he could now see Emma leaning on casually with Henry at her side, that he too had been welcomed into the fold gladly. With the wolf born inside him, his horribly checkered and painful history, and how long he had wandered alone in the world, Killian could never have imagined being accepted as a part of something so good, nor feeling that he mattered to others again. Despite his stunned disbelief, however, he could only continue to be grateful.

As he drew nearer, Henry caught sight of him and waved enthusiastically, a wide grin stretching across his face. “Hey, Killian!” the youth called out. “Are you ready for this?”

“Aye, lad, of course,” he answered with a chuckle, smiling to Emma as well, his heart swelling still further at the blush which rose on her cheeks as he waggled his eyebrows playfully. He turned his attention back to Henry quickly, not wanting the young man to feel dismissed, but instead leaning forward to whisper secretively to Henry, “We wouldn’t want to miss your grandma’s famed cherry chess pie, now would we?”

Henry agreed emphatically with Killian’s winking query, then scampered on ahead of them as Killian pulled Emma into a quick embrace while she stretched up to press a chaste kiss to his lips before they joined hands and followed her son the rest of the way to Granny’s before they were late.

Not many minutes later they were turning into the front seating area of the diner, entering under the arch and being greeted from all sides by family and friends. Ruby bounded over to gleefully wrap Emma in an exuberant hug, whispering in his love’s ear that she wanted to hear what they’d been up to at the new house in a blatant enough way to have the blond blushing once again. Killian followed Henry’s urging over to his grandparents’ table, shaking David’s hand and easing into conversation with Emma’s father thankfully.

He liked the people gathered around him very much, but so often in the past he had kept to the shadows, on the outskirts of society, either due to prejudice and ostracism or his own attempts to insure others’ safety from the beast within him. Having at last found his home in Storybrooke, and also a peace within himself that he had rarely known, Killian felt as stable as he had ever been in both parts of himself. His wolf had room and freedom to run, even a pack of sorts with Ruby and Graham nearby, and he rarely feared the howling need to break free he had sought to hide or contain in his youth and throughout his years of bitter, aimless wandering.  All that being true, he still sometimes preferred to ease into larger groups one person at a time. Once Emma’s slightly overprotective and traditional father had gotten to know him, Killian found the man quite easy to talk to and good company, so he naturally went to speak with him first.

Their friendship hadn’t taken long to develop once things had settled down around the holidays, some six months ago, after Regina, Cora, and Rumplestiltskin’s defeat. Both David and Killian served as reinforcements to the sheriff’s department when needed (though in sleepy, calm Storybrooke they rarely were) and so had spent many long afternoons when there were no calls sharing long chats, wadded up paper ball free throw contests in the desk trash cans, endless one-upping games of darts, and - if they grew truly desperate - filing of the somehow never ending stacks of paperwork. Their little town had been free of most trouble beyond cats in trees and neighboring fairy tale characters’ squabbles since Thanksgiving. None of them had forgotten that Gold was still simmering impotently in his shop (surely wanting revenge, but hands tied by the fact that his dagger forbade it, thanks to Emma’s brilliance).  In fact, the citizens were enjoying an everyday normality most of them had never been able to experience before - in either this realm or the Enchanted Forest.

So, though there was often hardly enough work to keep one person busy, Graham had remained Sheriff, and kept Emma on as his deputy. Killian’s eyes found his sandy-haired fellow wolf amidst the happy crowd of partygoers, attentively leaning to whisper something in Belle’s ear where she sat talking to Granny Lucas herself, along with Nova, Leroy, Bashful, and Doc. The Sheriff was clearly happy to watch over his girlfriend, glad just to see her in high spirits, having brought her a drink and standing behind her chair to listen and look on. Graham had always been a good and competent lawman, but now that he was completely free to act of his own will and as he saw fit, it became even more clear just how kind, compassionate, and worthy a man he was. He no longer had to glance over his shoulder at each turn, fearing retribution for his choices. The townspeople liked and trusted him even more than they had before, seeing how dedicated he was to their causes and thorough in handling problems immediately and lawfully for the good of all to the best of his ability.

Watching just a moment longer, Killian saw Belle pause in her conversation, looking up over her shoulder at Graham with an adoring expression in her eyes, resting her hand over his where he had placed it on her shoulder. Something passed between them wordlessly, so slight that it went unnoticed by most around them, but to Kilian’s honed and heightened senses, it sent almost a frisson of intense feeling all the way across the space to where he stood. He didn’t know what it meant, but he found himself more than a little curious, and happy for his friends whatever the cause of their joy.

His attention was drawn back to his own immediate circle when David threw his head back in a booming burst of laughter as Henry finished relating how Killian had recently taken he, his mom, and his friends Grace, Nicholas and Ava out fishing and swimming on the Jolly. It wasn’t the first time Killian had dropped anchor in the harbor where the preteens could dive off the bow and bob in the waves to cool off while he and Emma sat in the sun watching over them and talking, but what had gotten such a reaction from his grandpa was the mental image of Ava’s disastrous practice at casting and somehow catching her hook in Grace’s hair. The ensuing noisy melee had caused quite a commotion until they’d gotten Grace free from the painful tangle, reassured Ava that they all knew it was an accident and gotten back to catching fish rather than each other.

As the afternoon wore on, Killian relaxed into the atmosphere of easy camaraderie around him, graciously complimenting his hostess on the lightness of her dinner rolls and the fine quality of her rum - to which he earned a sniff of begrudging thanks but also a sidelong smile. He exchanged a few words with Belle on the last book she had recommended to him and what he thought of it so far, and though she carried an obvious glow of satisfaction and practically radiated good humor, he was no closer to the reason that it seemed so especially prominent today, even after conversing with her. He exchanged pleasantries with Graham, and let Henry drag him into a ridiculous game of Pin the Tail on the Donkey that Snow had organized to hilarious results with the assorted dwarves’ poor aim and inebriated states by that hour of the waning day.

Despite what else he was doing however, his eyes were continually drawn back to Emma wherever she was. There was the simple fact that he couldn’t help but marvel at her beauty, for one thing. Her golden hair stood out like a beacon in any gathering, this one no exception, and the very sight of those flowing waves cascading down her back against the red leather of her favorite jacket made his hand itch to brush through its silky softness.  Her long, lean form, her throaty chuckle, and the sparkle in her jade green eyes all made hunger rise in him that had him aching to pull her out of the party and into the first empty room he could find. A long life of practice made him able to rein in his desires, but it certainly didn’t slake them in the least.

He remembered too that it was nearing the full moon, which made all his more canine traits closer to the surface. As intensely protective as he would have been anyway, because he loved her, the animal instinct within demanded he be aware of his mate and her safety at all times. Especially when they were out in the open and not alone, whether or not those with them were friends and the gathering innocent. There was possessiveness as well that he could contain, but not vanquish completely. Between those two impulses warring inside his average human faćade, Killian was rather proud of himself for managing to eventually retreat to a corner table with his drink, lean back in a chair and observe the goings on around him with at least the air of calm.

Still, needless to say, he was relieved when the festivities did begin to break up an hour or so later. Many called out a friendly goodbye to him, and he waved back jovially to them.  Some, like David, came over to say ‘good night’ and make plans for when they’d get together next. When Emma finally came up to him with an easy smile and an outstretched hand, asking him if he was ready to head home for the night with a teasing tilt of her head and playful “Captain?” he was on his feet in a moment. With Henry in tow, they headed back toward their house on the shore as the stars came out above.

A deep sense of satisfaction warmed Killian once again at the very idea that this could be his life, while Emma leaned into his side as they walked and Henry pointed out the various constellations that he had learned to recognize through Killian’s tutelage. It was more happiness than he once could have imagined having in his life on a regular basis. In a few days he would need to prepare for shifting about three nights in a row, as was his monthly due, but for tonight, he could sense it was still safely far enough off to take his time seeing the two most important people in his life home safely and enjoy that they saw him as one of their own.

Once they reached the front gate, Henry hurried on up the walk and into the house with a “See you tomorrow!” for his mom’s boyfriend. Alone at long last, Emma turned to him, her face tilted up to his with a devious glimmer in her expression. Only moments ago, he wouldn’t have imagined things could get much better, but when she ran her hands up his torso to rest on his chest and whispered invitingly, “Wanna come in for a nightcap, Sailor?” she blew his mind all over again. 

A couple of drinks, an entire bowl of popcorn and a movie later, they were cuddled together on the couch in Emma’s living room, making out like two teenagers.  Killian didn’t leave his love’s arms again until the next day dawned. Slipping out to his boat before Henry could walk up and begin scavenging through the cupboards for his breakfast cereal, Killian stooped to place a kiss on Emma’s groggy forehead as she mumbled a sleepy farewell. No one else in the house was stirring as the former pirate headed away down the walk, and he was too cheerful and relaxed to be on his guard, so the eyes watching his every move from the shadows as he moved toward the docks, went unnoticed…

~~***~~***~~

Far removed from the cheerfulness and revelry of the rest of the town and their holiday celebrations, Mr. Gold was holed up in the dim, shrouded back room of his shop, scowling silently at a clouded orb with its contents swirling inside. He hadn’t bothered to unlock or open his shop doors today, not wanting to see the idiotic smiles of the townsfolk, nor to waste effort pasting on a smile and haggling to make sales that mattered little to him, all things considered. No, all that mattered now was possessing the one item which could free him of the Savior’s binding order stoppering his Dark One powers to set things right. He would be loosed of her interfering magical hold; it was merely a matter of tracing the artifact to its hiding place and summoning an accomplice he knew was powerful enough to aid him in the ritual needed to slip the noose of his Dagger’s control, and therefore Miss Swan’s meddling command.

All the pieces were in place; once the crystal showed him where his former compatriot could be found, he would set the ball rolling.  He would make Belle see sense, return her to her place by his side, where she clearly belonged. That Sheriff who had dared to try taking his place in Belle’s affections would rue ever having his heart put back in his chest. And that wretched cur ...that wolf he had nearly finished off before - and the woman who had prevented it, who had the audacity to tangle with him and think she could defeat the Dark One - both of them would pay, once and for all.

[snowbellewells]

Face to Face in the Broad Daylight: Chapter Two

(Once again, it took me a bit longer than a week, so I do apologize for leaving you hanging on the cliffie from last chapter.  Hope you enjoy this one!

And once again, thanks SO MUCH to @branlovestowrite for this amazing story banner!!)

~chapter two: lying in wait

Though in wolf form Ruby could have loped away in seconds with her long legs and left them in the dust, she paced herself anxiously, clearly determined to lead them along with her further into the pathless woods. Emma didn’t know just what had happened; there were no sounds of battle or distress, Ruby didn’t appear injured, but she was clearly upset, as her low whines if they lagged behind her even slightly made clear. However, her lupine form couldn’t speak to explain, and so they simply had to follow to see for themselves and hope they were in time to help. Every so often, Ruby’s snout rose to deftly scent the air blowing through the dense trees, making sure she hadn’t lost her way, and Emma supposed that needing to be sure of her way back had to be why Ruby hadn’t transformed into her human self again yet. Well, that and the speed at which she could travel, Emma’s mind supplied ruefully as she huffed for air, pressed her hand against the stitch in her side and tried to keep going. Those tawny, golden eyes within the pointed, grey-flecked face searched hers pleadingly for a moment, though unnaturally beguiling, there was a very human urgency in their depths that pushed the two deputies just a little further. She was nearly at the end of her endurance; Emma sensed her lupine friend knew it too, but she gritted her teeth and kept putting one foot in front of the other.

Killian was fairing much better; his were-strength and endurance aiding him greatly, even if he didn’t possess the same speed as a man that he did as a wolf. Still, even he looked a bit winded and confused, possibly because he didn’t have the impetus Ruby did to reach their goal. Emma was just wondering that they didn’t have some sort of pack telepathy for communication as she might have thought, or if it just didn’t work since Killian hadn’t shifted, when they burst from the dense trees into a rough clearing of sorts and her heart leapt into her throat for an entirely different reason.

Just to their left, as Ruby skidded to a halt and threw back her head to release a mournful, chilling howl before finally dashing over to the large tree they were all staring at. Her clothes lay in a pile by the motionless form, sitting leaned up against the trunk as if the person had merely stopped there for a rest, except for the ugly reality of the rapidly blooming dark bruise at the unresponsive older woman’s temple and stretching down the side of her face, and the crossbow still clutched in her frozen hands ready to fight.

Ruby lowered to the ground, stretching and elongating so fluidly Emma felt that if she had blinked she would have missed her change into the leggy human bombshell she knew. This was a Ruby she’d never seen though, tears smeared down her cheeks along with her mascara, twigs caught in her long, red-streaked dark hair as she haphazardly threw on her clothes, all the while calling her Grandmother’s name.

“Granny, wake up!” she urged, placing her hand on the stout matron’s arm and shaking as much as she dared. “Please!”

Snapping into motion again, Emma hurried over to kneel at the diner owner’s other side. Granny Lucas was tough, having supported herself and her granddaughter alone for years once widowed, both in their homeland and there in Storybrooke; she wouldn’t have gone down without a fight, that much Emma knew for sure. Checking for a pulse, which she found easily - strong, if a bit more sluggish than she would have liked - she nodded to both her friend and her mate encouragingly before pulling out her phone to call for an ambulance, then Graham at the station, and her father at home. They were going to need all hands on deck if whatever sort of attacker had struck was still prowling in the forest.

Even as she repeatedly explained the situation over her cell, she could see Killian directing Ruby to gently ease her Granny away from the tree to lie flat and hopefully more comfortably, though they didn’t dare move her further without knowing what was wrong. Even as she hung up with her father, after assuring him they would be on guard, they they had things under control until backup arrived, she could hear Killian’s soothing lilt, speaking to Ruby in low tones, calming her from the shock of seeing her indomitable, tough guardian in such a state.

Emma turned her attention back to them fully, her calls completed, just in time to see Killian place his hands bracingly on his fellow wolf’s forearms, even as her now large brown eyes turned up to them plaintively and she squared her shoulders, bringing her sniffling under control. “Listen to me, Lass,” Killian was saying. “There’s no sign of a scuffle here besides your grandmother lying unconscious. You found her this way? You didn’t see anything?”

Ruby nodded forlornly, clutching her grandmother’s hand even as she met first Killian’s, and then Emma’s, eyes steadily. She was out here wild mushroom hunting - told me that was where was going this morning after the rush. We usually have a lull between breakfast and lunch when she runs a few errands. I got worried when she wasn’t back for the noon crush. Once things calmed down again, I decided maybe I ought to go looking. B-but she...she was already like this when I got here. I figured I could get back to town and help more quickly if I shifted, and well - you know the rest.”

Both of them listened wordlessly, not doubting their friend, but not sure what to make of the scene before them either. Someone - or something - had struck the Widow Lucas down, but had left little trace behind. The old bird would have left a dent of her own, no doubt, so why was there no sign of the skirmish, or the damage she was capable of inflicting with her formidable temper and bow? The ground was even and dry, not terrain that would have caused the woman to slip or fall easily on her own either. And that bruise on the side of her head looked awfully large and nasty to be from a simple fall. Yet, no blood, no tracks, no torn up earth gave them anything to lead them to the perpetrator of foul play. Something simply didn’t add up.

Killian’s blue eyes met Emma’s over Granny’s prone form, even as they heard the ambulance sirens wailing toward them from the road. They’d had a nice little break, but once again something evil had found its way to Storybrooke. Just what were they in for now?

~~***~~***~~

The woman in deep midnight blue stood looking placidly out over the lake, seeming as if nothing ruffled her gentle expression or pensive bearing in the slightest. The gathering dusk made her rather shrouded from the casual eye at a glance, quiet possibly how she intended it. Her dark, luxuriant hair, and pale complexion was further hidden by the cloak draped over her head and shoulders of the same indigo hue as her rather old-fashioned dress, a robe hanging all the way down to her silent, slippered feet. If one had noticed her at all, they would have quickly passed on without disturbing her placid reflection. Even at a glance, there seemed to be something forbidding, warning others to keep their distance and refrain from interrupting her contemplation of the still, deep waters.

When the darkness around her deepened into the shadows of full night, the mysterious woman still didn’t budge, clearly bothered neither by the absence of daylight nor the passage of time, patient to wait for her expected meeting. When the popping sound of the air at her back announced the sudden appearance of a magical being, the stranger never flinched, merely turned with an amused smirk and arched brow to her newly arrived compatriot.

“You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” she purred, taking a step forward without hesitation or concern. “Still making it clear you work for no other, on no time table but your own.” She came to stand face-to-face with the similarly dark-clothed newcomer, pausing in her speech as she looked the other up and down, before adding in a smugly pleased tone, “And yet, for all your power plays, I was the one called upon to help you.” She let out a titter of a laugh, eyes sparking in her falsely attractive heart-shaped face with a calculating mirth. “Isn’t that right, Dark One?”

For a moment, the moon overhead drifted free clear of the covering clouds and the thin, sharp face of Mr. Gold, Rumplestiltskin - the Dark One - was revealed in its eerie glow. His voice was soft as he leaned into his visitor’s space, until they were nearly brushing noses, the same sort of frighteningly playful malice laced through his own words as he reached out to pat her alabaster cheek with an uncomfortably gentle hand. “Come now, Dearie,” he admonished, tutting as he did it with condescension. “You know you wanted to prove yourself useful to me. You always have… Morgana.”

~~***~~***~~

That same night, Graham looked up from the phone call he was just ending with Ruby as Belle slipped through the door of his little cottage amidst the trees further inland at the other edge of the large woods surrounding Storybrooke. His adoptive sister had called to update him on Granny from the hospital, where they were keeping the older woman for observation. He had asked his love to come out to the more secluded spot for certain privacy as he tried to fill her in on the mysterious and disturbing events of the day. None of them had seen any further traces of whatever had given Granny the frightening knock on the head and resulting unconsciousness, but seeing as how Ruby had just informed him that the woman who’d taken them both in was now sitting up in her hospital bed haranguing nurses who urged her to keep still and demanding to know who was running the diner if they were both absent, Graham felt safely assured that Granny would soon be right as rain again. In fact, Ruby had exasperatedly related, in a tone that made Graham shake his head and chuckle at the picture it evoked, the woman hadn’t stopped shoving away her stilling hand and trying to yank out monitors and clamber out of bed until she’d convinced her that Snow and David had the business well in hand until closing, and that Ashley Hermann had volunteered to close her fledgling Mommy and Me daycare for the following morning to help Snow open and handle the breakfast rush.

He stood to greet Belle eagerly, glad to see her again and to have her there safe as well. A part of him had worried if it were smart to have her driving out to his place alone after the attack, but Belle was determined that she wanted to be kept in the loop and able to help if she could, and was not about to be coddled. “I had enough of that with Rumple,” she’d warned him tartly when he had offered to come and pick her up or to meet her before work the next morning. “He would always claim to be protecting me, doing what was best, when really all he needed was me out of the way and in the dark, so he could do his damage that caused the danger in the first place. I’m not made of glass, and I’m not going to shatter. I can help,” she’d finished bluntly.

And Graham really couldn’t argue with that. Still, he was infinitely relieved as he crossed the room to gather her into a tight embrace. Making sure the door was carefully barred and the curtains drawn over all the windows, he then just stood breathing in her clean, simple fragrance of chamomile tea, lilac soap, and the ever-present hint of old book pages where his nose was buried in her hair, swaying gently from side to side. Possibly he was holding on a bit tightly, he reflected after a few minutes while neither of them spoke, merely leaned into each other and drank in the other’s warmth. Reluctantly, he released Belle just long enough to take her hand and lead her over to the large, overstuffed chair in the corner by the fireplace and then gently pulled her down to sit with him, curled up half in his lap.

Giggling lightly, Belle brushed back a few errant honey-colored curls off his forehead and playfully teased, “Missed me, did you?” She bit her lower lip delicately afterwards, tracing fingers down his face to rest her hand on his shoulder, as if not wanting to break contract any more than he.

Offering a crooked smile and nod at his own expense, Graham still spoke with full sincerity when he answered, “You know that I did.”

Both of them settled more comfortably into the wide seat, wrapped up in each other and neither one feeling any desire to move. Graham felt his pulse begin to hammer more rapidly as Belle played with his shirt’s buttons beneath the trim waistcoat he often favored on work days, deftly slipping her small hand beneath the chambray fabric to rest on the warm skin over his heart. Breathing in through his nose deeply, the sheriff schooled his body’s immediate reaction, seeing that she was seeking comfort rather than to set him aflame as she rested her head on his shoulder lightly and asked, “Did your canvas find anything? Any trace of who or what might have hurt Granny?”

He shook his head, releasing a heavy sigh as well. “No,” was the lowly murmured answer. “There really was very little left behind at the scene. All we have to go on is how Ruby found her and the strike to the head. Granny doesn’t remember anything.”

“Wait...nothing?” Belle interrupted, pulling back to look up into Graham’s face more fully. “How is that possible? She must have seen something.”

Graham’s gaze was equally puzzled and concerned as he stared back into her own searching expression. Shrugging as if at a loss, he finally replied wearily. “I know it doesn’t make much sense, but all Granny seems able to tell us is that she remembers going out there to pick mushrooms for that Swiss Melt burger of hers - she’s got some secret spot. Then the next thing she knew, she was coming to in the ambulance with Emma and Ruby both hovering over her along with the EMT. Everything else in between is a blank.”

“Almost as though someone cast a memory curse and wiped her mind clean,” Belle filled in darkly, knowing well that little else would explain such a complete void, and that in Storybrooke such an affliction could be all too common.

“Aye,” Graham agreed, knowing that she was right. It was something they had already discussed - he, Emma, Killian, and David - after trudging back to the station empty handed to reconvene before going their separate ways for the night. It was most likely some sort of memory curse, leading to the more sinister question of who had cast it and why? What was the culprit plotting that needed to be covered up? It hadn’t escaped any of them either that it could very well lead right back to Gold. True, Emma’s order with the dagger prevented him from harming them directly, but none of them were naive enough to think that he had forgotten his grudges, nor that he would simply simmer quietly forever without finding a way around their safeguards. Either he was already making his first strike, or he had found someone willing to make it for him in one of his notorious deals. There was no proof yet, or reason why Granny had borne the brunt of whatever the move was, but Gold was clever enough to hide his true motives, and it put Graham more on edge than ever. Especially for the woman in his arms who had already suffered more than enough. It was why he hadn’t wanted to go to her in the library this evening or to stay with her in her cozy apartment above it. Gold knew those places too well, was too familiar with any location in the town itself. He had magic, he could be lurking anywhere and overhearing them, watching them at any time…

He was just telling himself that he was perhaps getting a bit paranoid when Belle burrowed her nose into his chest adorably, squeezing her arms around him affectionately, before sitting up to look at him straight on. “All of you believe this is tied to Rumple somehow, don’t you?” she asked quietly, a bit of regretful sadness coloring her tone, but - Graham was pleased to note - not nearly the depth of heartache such a certainty would once have caused.

He merely nodded, covering her hand on his chest with his own and squeezing it in reassurance.

“I’m sure you’re probably right,” she added after a pause. “He never will learn.” She stood, almost as if to square her shoulders and go back to her beloved collection of books and get started even yet that night, ready to throw herself into research in an effort to be useful - despite them not even knowing a direction in which to point her. “Our work’s cut out for us then,” she added firmly. “If you stop by tomorrow on your way to the station, I might have some possible accomplices he has history with, or some memory spells that could indicate the one used on Granny, if I burn the midnight oil. Maybe I could even do a bit of poking around at the shop or spy on him carefully in the next few days. I doubt it would take much to convince him that I still wish to at least be friends...” Her chin was jutting out in determination, but her last statement had her voice quavering as her words trailed off.

But Graham was already lurching to his feet as well, reaching out for her anxiously as though he feared she might be about to dash out the door into the night. “Belle,” he pled, taking both her hands and bringing each to his mouth one by one, unfurling the fingers she had clenched into trembling fists to place a tender kiss into the center of each palm. “Please don’t go. It isn’t safe. We don’t know who is out there. Even if they’re working with Gold or not. I intended for you to stay here…” he hesitated, eyes wide and hopeful, “if you want. You know I wake before sunrise to sneak in a wolf run.”

At that at least Belle’s mouth lifted into a tentative smile at one corner, giving him the nerve to go on. 

“But stay here tonight, where I can know that you’re safe,” he pressed. “I won’t tell you what to do. You’re free to do as you see fit… but please don’t put yourself at risk or engage with him. He wants you back, and he would only hurt you again. I do not know if I would survive you… a-and our pup… being taken from me by that monster. Just… please… stay…”

His voice broke then, making Belle’s breath catch at just how much she and their unborn child meant to him. Graham’s calloused but careful touch swept an escaped strand of hair out of her face as she gazed up at him, more than a little bit awestruck, until she nodded wordlessly in acquiescence.

“Thank you,” he whispered bending to kiss her, drawing her close into an embrace that swept her up so fully she found herself standing on her tiptoes to get nearer still. 

“No, thank you,” she finally gasped when they separated for air, “for caring - for both of us - so dearly.” She placed her hand over her stomach, knowing it still appeared mostly flat, but something in her heart convinced her she already felt the little being there all the same.

“Always, my darling,” he promised in a raspy voice, emotion still on raw display. 

Then she gently slipped her fingers through his and let him lead her up the wooden staircase to bed. Right then she wanted nothing more than to curl into his side, let the man she loved surround her and hold her until morning. There was another battle for them to face and fight, but it would just have to wait until the new day dawned.

Tagging: @cssns @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @searchingwardrobes @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @resident-of-storybrooke @whimsicallyenchantedrose @spartanguard @branlovestowrite @bmbbcs4evr @laschatzi @gingerchangeling @blackwidownat2814 

[snowbellewells]

Face to Face in the Broad Daylight: Chapter Three

(I meant to get this newest chapter posted yesterday, but didn’t quite make it! At least I am still managing to average a chapter a week, but not always landing on the same day!  I hope you will enjoy it all the same...)

Once again, thanks a million to the brilliant @branlovestowrite​ for the gorgeous story banner that I just love adding to my work.  And thanks to @cssns​ for organizing such a fun event to participate in!!

~ chapter three: the pieces come together

The light of a new morning had just begun to peek over the horizon in Storybrooke, fresh and clear, as it always did, regardless of whatever chaos and strife had come the day before. One could almost believe the morning dew and the sun’s first rays would wash away any damage that lingered on the ground below and illuminate the calm of early dawn. Of course, human beings who lived in the magical mash-up of fairy tale heroes and villains knew better than such a fancifully idyllic notion, but it was a lovely thought, if nothing else.

One such person who knew all too well the caprices and vagaries of fate and how quickly events could turn, altering one’s whole life, stood sentinel on the hilly rise overlooking the sleepy New England town. His large, shaggy lupine body was alert but at peace as he gazed out over the strange little haven he had sworn to himself to protect as both man and beast. It was a soothing, picturesque view, and Graham enjoyed seeing it as the rising sun’s first rays and bursts of color decorated the landscape stretched out before his eyes. One genuinely could almost forget for a moment the place’s convoluted history and fraught present, and think it was just some tiny, charmed hamlet, quiet as it was so early and with so few yet awake and about.

The brisk morning air ruffled his thick russet coat, stirring the deep mahogany fur and pleasantly tickling along his skin. It was an invigorating sensation after his long gallop through the misty, grey pre-dawn, and Graham savored the freedom he felt these precious few hours he stole away each morning to run, wild and unhindered. He’d spent so long not free to do so…

Quickly shaking his rangy form, just as a dog might after an unwanted bath, Graham ordered his thoughts away from the dank, suffocating stone walls of the Evil Queen’s castle fortress long ago in another realm, and also away from the coldly austere walls of a dark, inescapable bedroom in the mayoral mansion. That was over, in the past, and though the fear and impressions still sometimes swept in, closing his throat and tightening his chest, the memories were easier to fight off as a wolf, more quickly tamped down once they surfaced. The trauma would never fully disappear, the canine huff that escaped his muzzle the best way to express that displeasure at present, but it was over. He was no longer caged, and these morning runs helped to remind him of that.

Just before he turned to head back down the ridge, home to his cottage and the amazing woman sleeping there who also helped him heal in more ways than he could say, movement at the lake shore caught his preternaturally sharp eye. He froze, motionless, zeroing in on the flicker of interest which had drawn his attention.

There was someone walking down there, it took him only seconds to deduce, but why? There was nothing to do this early in the morning to interest the average person. Not that he wanted to be overly suspicious; it was a public space and anyone was more than welcome to walk along by the water. However, most folks who made use of the lake were in boats or fishing, enjoying the water and not self-conscious of avoiding notice. That was not the case of the form he had just noticed, a niggling unease disturbing his mind as the unknown stranger slunk silently along the lake’s edge, nearing the trees at the far side of the water and a large rock standing nearby, glancing over one shoulder often and obviously hoping to remain unseen.

His large ears flattened along his head, crouching on all fours, belly to the rocky ground, sensing he didn’t want the secretive being cloaked in deep blue to look up and catch him observing either. He couldn’t look away though; not knowing who this person was - a cloaked woman, he became more certain as he continued to watch - what she wanted, and most importantly, if she had something to do with the attack on Granny. A low, warning growl rumbled in his throat, almost without his conscious realization.

Frighteningly, however, the figure below snapped to attention as if the canine sound of displeasure had been heard; though that should have been impossible. Graham knew he couldn’t be seen, but felt himself holding his breath as the strange woman was clearly studying her surroundings. Then, to his utter disbelief, even with all the fairy tale characters come to life, the curses and magic he had seen in the last year, his eyes widened further still at the vision before him.  As if having satisfied herself that she was indeed alone, the woman held her outstretched arm over the placid lake before her. The surface began to bubble and stir, and slowly some rather large, darkly gleaming cylindrical shape surfaced from within the depths, rising into the air and floating to the hand which had emerged from the voluminous sleeves of the stranger’s cloak and waited open to  catch it. Graham’s astonishment was only heightened as the unknown woman tucked the object within the folds of her clothing, turned toward the surrounding forest, and seemed to vanish into the trees.

~~***~~***~~

Having the early shift at the station had never been Emma Swan’s favorite thing; mornings in Storybrooke were often either dully quiet or filled with the sort of petty, piddling complaints that she had little patience for. When she pulled first shift alone early on in her career as deputy, if had often been quite the battle not to drift off to sleep again at her desk unless she’d had a good three cups of coffee. However, now that she often worked mornings with Killian, Emma had come to enjoy the time - even if they were wordlessly filling out paperwork, it was peaceful and pleasant simply being in his company.

Bringing the Storybrooke Police Department mug she was using up to her lips, Emma tried to surreptitiously study the man in question as he dusted and swept out the two rarely used (other than by Leroy as an occasional drunk tank) holding cells, muttering to himself about ‘no substandard conditions on his watch’ and ‘slovenly drunken bloody dwarves’. He shook his head with clear disbelieving irritation - as if his obsessively clean and tidy habits were the norm rather than a rarity - carrying on in a way that made her quite sure he thought no one was paying any attention. She was, on the contrary, quite riveted in fact as she watched her lover work, his movements graceful even with actions as mundane as replacing clean sheets and pillowcases - which he had washed, she was sure - and making up the two cots with military neatness and precision. He leaned over a bit further to tuck the bedding in around a far mattress corner, and she flushed to realize she had actually traced her tongue across her lower lip hungrily at the sight of his pirate booty on display before her, encased in tight denim.

Standing, she made certain to place the mug quietly down on her desk surface and stealthily crossed the room to the cell he still occupied, fiddling with the window latch or some other detail not to his liking. With a naughty smirk already curving her lips, and pleased with herself for getting the drop on a pirate (and wolf), Emma swung the door shut on Killian while his back was still turned, letting the clang of it latching alert him to the situation for her. Her hands still rested on the bars, and she waited curiously to see how he would respond.

Killian startled her though by crossing the floor of the cell in a flash - almost the blink of an eye - so quickly that it made her breath catch raggedly in her throat. She jerked back reflexively, but was stopped by his hand and hook, resting on and pressing down atop her hands on the bars. He leaned in close to leer at her dangerously, a low-burning fire in his blue eyes before murmuring in a deep lilt, “Careful there, Lass. You’ll catch a bigger predator than you’re prepared to handle.”

Emma regained her composure quickly, not to be outdone. “We’ll see about that, Captain,” she practically taunted audaciously. “You’re the one in a cage.”

He merely waggled an eyebrow at her statement, seeing the truth in it though he didn’t seem at all troubled by the realization. Her pirate merely nodded in feigned thoughtfulness as he took a careful step back. Emma’s body screamed out a silent protest at the loss of his proximity, even as she struggled to seem as cool and unfazed as he. “If you say so, Emma,” Killian husked, his voice rasping enough to allow Emma momentary awareness that he wasn’t as unaffected as he seemed, gloating not withstanding, but then his low, rumbling voice added salaciously, “However, I doubt that I will remain entrapped for long. You see, Love, your body is giving you away…” his eyes swept up her form all the way from her booted toes to her messy ponytail in a way that heated her skin palpably. He brought his tongue out to swipe across his lower lip in a positively obscene gesture that made her tremble even more than he had already seen, at the very reminder of just what that tongue could do - and how it felt- running along her flesh. “You want me badly enough that it’s only a matter of time before you open this door to get in here with me.”

She wanted to kick herself, cursing silently in her head all the while, that her voice did indeed quaver in reaction even as she tossed back sassily, “You’re awfully sure of yourself there, sailor. Think you’ll be quite as cocky after spending the night on one of those cots?”

To her immense satisfaction, Killian’s mouth did drop open for a moment before he regained his composure, tilted his head to the side slightly, and this time, added in the ridiculous puppy eyes along with his comeback. “Now Lass, we both know you aren’t going to leave me here, are you? After all, you would be depriving yourself as much as me.”

“Hmmm…” Emma stalled, softly humming under her breath, turning back toward her desk as she did so, and making a show of taking her time to rifle through several items before finding the one she sought and turning back around to face him. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” she finally argued slyly, holding up the handcuffs she had located and letting them dangle from her finger in plain sight. “I’m beginning to think some restraint might do that ego of yours good.”

The rough vibrations of his deep chuckle felt as though they traveled across the floor and up into the souls of her feet they affected Emma so strongly. A pulse of want strummed directly through her core, and she knew the flush of it must be echoed on her face as Killian nodded in acknowledgement of it and a devious twinkle lit his eyes. “Why, Swan,” he replied innocently, “you’ve never complained of my cockiness before.”

For some reason that ridiculously bad wordplay was what finally snapped the cord holding her back. Twisting her hand sideways with the flick of a wrist, Emma unlocked the cell door as easily as she had closed it, and sent it swinging back open hard enough to make it bang against the bars loudly. In the next instant, she was through the door and on her handsome wolf man, clutching the collar of his jacket in her fists desperately and leaning in to kiss him so fervently she nearly knocked their noses together.

She felt as much as heard the huff of air that escaped him, caught off guard by the strength of her onslaught, and though his lips, teeth and tongue quickly caught up to the fierce vigor of her kiss, he did stumble back a few steps, sending them both sprawling onto the cot he had just made with a squeal of rusty springs.

Not that such a tumble stopped them for long. Emma ran a hand back through Killian’s dark hair greedily, unable to help but touch it, scrubbing her nails along his scalp back to the nape of his neck, where she pulled at the strands to tilt his head at the angle she desired, eliciting a heedless growl from his throat. While her forcefulness had him distracted, her other hand trailed down his arm to his wrist. With a chortle of victorious glee, she quickly pulled back just enough in his lap to snap the cuff closed around his wrist and then the metal frame of the cot.

Killian, who hadn’t been idle, the curve of his hook having trailed up her side beneath her shirt with shivering, deliciously cool precision and had been tracing along the underside of her breast, froze at the metallic click, arrested in mid-caress and then pressing his scruffy face to her shoulder, where he bit down lightly and then murmured, “Oh, you’re going to pay for that…”

She quirked a brow in question at his futile threat, knowing both that she had the upper hand, and that he wasn’t all that upset with the turn of events. “Am ?” she countered, looking at him with as devious an expression as she could muster before leaning forward to capture his lips again, whispering a mumbled, “We’ll see about that,” against his mouth.

His hooked arm had just urged her down further over him, tangling them together and pressing them even closer, despite the metallic jangle of the cuff on his other arm as he forgot its trapped position and began to bring it up to encircle her as well. They were well on their way to fully undressing one another - both jackets shed, the rest of Killian’s shirt unbuttoned so her greedy hands could run through the coarse hair on his chest and stomach, and Emma’s blouse nearly slashed down the front by a desperately tormented hook - when the sound of the station’s main entrance flying out to smack against the wall and the pounding of hurried footsteps sent them jerking upright, wide-eyed and panting, and caught red-handed. Call it the curse of small town life, but everyone around them seemed determined to help block their amorous interludes. Emma tried to run a shaky hand over her badly mussed hair before Graham rounded the corner into view.

He spared them only a quick, exasperated look before shaking his head and lamenting, “The cells, guys? Again? Really?” much to Emma’s sheepish apologies and Killian’s flushed embarrassment, before moving on, knowing that what he had seen was more important than lecturing his deputies on workplace protocol and boundaries. “I saw someone out by the lake shore early this morning - definitely secretive and certainly magical…” He began to fill in the details and it didn’t take long for them to agree that he might well have found the person who had accosted Granny Lucas - and could be colluding with Gold. The thing they needed to know now was why? And how to stop her before anyone else was harmed.

~~***~~***~~

While Graham was getting the Savior and his fellow wolf up to speed on all that he had heard and seen that morning, the object of his discourse was gliding silently, as surreptitious and unnoticed as a shadow down a nearby alley in the town, coming to a stop by the back entrance of Gold’s pawn shop. Not bothering to knock on the door or call out to announce herself, instead the still-shrouded figure, none other than Morgana, the healer and sorceress from Camelot of old, simply waved her hand before the door latch and with a deft twist of her wrist, unlocked the door and caused it to swing open without ever physically touching it.

Without even a moment’s hesitation, Morgana slipped through the narrow opening, bringing the door shut behind her, and made her way as assured and confident as if she had visited or seen it all there before, to the heavy drapery hanging between the back and front parts of the shop. As she brushed through the divider, Rumplestiltskin stood at the wide glass counter to her left,  as though he had simply been awaiting her appearance, utterly calm and unruffled.

“There you are, Madame le Fey,” he spoke quietly, turning to meet her with a deferential nod and the correct reverence in his voice, but a glimmer in his eye that showed he was still not as obsequious as it might seem. “I had hoped you weren’t planning to disappoint me.”

The hood was lifted from her head by pale, graceful hands, revealing long, shining hair so dark it nearly gleamed purple, black as a raven’s wing. The ancient sorceress’ eyes crackled with a malevolent fire the equal of Gold’s as she scoffed angrily at his words. “Hardly” she dismissed with a harsh retort. But then, as if knowing the wily pawnbroker, villain in his own right, well enough to be aware he would not simply take her word as sufficient answer, Morgana reached within the draped folds of her cloak, her hand emerging with the same metallically sparkling cylinder Graham had seen her raise from the lake.

All nonchalance shattered, the Dark One’s complete focus and attention was centered on the offering she held out before him, knowing what it was she possessed and long past any semblance of pretending she would not get her due for an item he wanted so desperately. “The Sorceror’s Hat,” Rumplestiltskin hissed on an awed breath, beginning to reach out toward the powerful talisman almost within his grasp, before pulling himself back and upright - under control - again.

“Indeed, it is, Dark One,” Morgana nearly purred in her rich, hypnotic voice, “as promised.”

He did give her a genuine nod and slight bow of impressed acknowledgement then. How she had acquired the hat mattered not to him; in fact, whether it had been her or anyone else bringing it to him would have made little difference. All that was of consequence was possessing the hat at last. And cleaving himself from control of the dagger - without losing his power. Then the Savior’s pitiful orders to protect those who had taken what belonged to him would be useless against him, and he could take back mastery of their shoddy little town, and on to the whole realm without magic to challenge him - as it should have always been. “You have done well, Dearie,” he complimented in a voice as pleasant and grateful as he could muster. Again, almost as if without his own conscious thought, Rumplestiltskin found his hands reaching out for the cylinder containing his prize.

Morgana, however, was not one to be trifled with, carefully gathering her find back against her body. “Ah ah ah, Dark One,” she warned in a quietly commanding sing-song, not so very unlike his own. “Not so fast. First, I require assurance that you will hold up your part of our deal.”

Exasperated, Rumplestiltskin’s response was impatient, hurried, not particularly inspiring confidence. “Yes, yes, of course.”

Tilting her head to study the imp facing her briefly, as if unable to resist prodding him just a bit, much like one had to imagine he had done to her at some point in the past, the fey woman added, “After all...was it not you who taught me, all those ages ago, that magic always comes with a price?”

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[snowbellewells]

“Run to Me (in the Dead of Night)”

(Once again, I’m later in the day than I hoped, but I do think this chapter will make up for the cliffie last week.  In fact, by the end, I think we’re headed somewhere distinctly more pleasant. ;)  There is some tense action here first though - Gold does some definite Dark One level damage and injury - just for fair warning before you start.)

Lastly, please enjoy @wingedlioness awesome and amazing art further in this chapter.  It’s actually an image of the scene that came into my mind first, and then brought about the rest of the story.

“Run to Me (in the Dead of NIght)”

chapter seven ~ old heat of a raging fire

There was no time for Killian to react; not to charge in counterattack, to retreat, to duck or dodge - he barely had time to think that the flash of silver he had seen in Gold’s hand meant nothing good for him, and it was already too late.  Though he had realized he was being followed and turned to face his pursuer in a relatively open space before they could attack unseen, it had not been his Crocodile that he expected. Knowing Gold’s vengeful nature as he did, Killian had believed (a horrible miscalculation, it would seem) that the Dark One would be at least immediately consumed with plotting his former pupil’s demise for what she had done to his clearly much beloved maid.  When he’d turned to face the person creeping along behind him, he had fully expected Cora - or possibly Regina - who were both much more likely to simply gloat and soliloquize before actually getting down to business, giving him time to figure out his defense, even if they welded magic and he did not.

His sworn enemy however offered no such luxury, striking out as soon as he had spoken, with a swift and vicious accuracy that nearly felled Killian in one disastrous motion. It would seem that Gold had not relied most immediately on his powers, but had struck first with a quite human - and deadly effective - tool.  The glint of silver Killian had spotted too late was from a small handgun, its size so compact and discreet that it had barely been visible in Gold’s grasp until he raised it to fire.

The shot struck home, and the fire that spread, not just from the spot in his shoulder where the bullet hit, but through his veins brought the further sickening realization.  The bullet was silver as well, already poisoning and draining even as the fact of it reached his brain with startling clarity.  The imp had never fought him fair, and it should really no longer be a shock.

“Coward!” Killian growled, hand immediately going to his shoulder in an attempt to focus him on staying upright in the face of his nemesis and staunching the blood he can already feel welling to the entry site.  He took a step forward, wishing in the moment he still carried the cutlass safely tucked away aboard his ship upon his person. He needed something to brandish as the old crocodile stalked closer, knowing he had injured his prey, even as Killian felt himself weakening.

Even more frightening, of course, was the fact that he would soon be forced to shift into his wolf form.  Though normally being a large, powerful wild animal with teeth and claws at his disposal to fight back would be comforting, he felt vulnerable as well having his secret, other side exposed to Rumplestiltskin against his will.  Not to mention, he also lost his human thought process and strategy against an all-too-cunning foe once he transformed. Yet, if he lost much more blood, or the Dark One landed another strike, it would become inevitable.  The werewolf body reverted back to its elemental form to heal itself, to protect so to speak, and though he could grit his teeth and stall it for a time, eventually it would happen anyway, and resisting would only make the shift more painful.

Stumbling to his knees, Killian tried to brace his hands on the rough forest floor to push himself back up.  Gold was slowly moving ever closer, and he couldn’t bear to face the fiendish villain bowed and shaking as he was - but it was to no avail.  He could feel his tendons stretching and lengthening, his face tingling and the skin pulling taut, the pressure in his head excruciating as it literally began to elongate and change shape.  His fingers were curling into claws in the dirt even as he tried to ball them together in fists, as if the whole metamorphosis could be halted by sheer force of will, despite what he knew.

A low, warning growl rumbled in his throat, reverberating through the small clearing.  Remarkably, Gold did halt for a moment, just out of reach, studying him with a maniacal gleam in his beady eyes.

“Fascinating,” he murmured, looking strangely engrossed in the process before him, giving a disturbing impression to something that normally felt as natural and simple as breathing to Killian.  “Don’t worry,” he cackled in that unnerving high-pitched voice which alerted Killian to the fact even before he could shake his head to look up with clear vision at the facade of unassuming pawnbroker vanishing to once more reveal the demon who had maimed him permanently and taken his love’s very life. “I’ll wait, mutt, until we can look at each other wearing our true faces.”

Unable to hold off any longer, Killian curled into himself slightly, and he knew the shift was taking hold.  The itchy, tingling sensation of hair sprouting thickly all over his body, his teeth growing and sharpening in what was rapidly becoming a snout, and then at last the cracking, bending, and rearranging that for a second nearly debilitated him, before he stood crouched in the dirt and dry leaves, a large, snarling black wolf.  

Knowing he had not a moment to waste before the Dark One’s morbid curiosity faded and he attacked again, Killian lunged for the monster, teeth flashing and snapping wildly.  But he never made it.  A force caught him in mid-air and threw him back to the ground with stunning force.  The same power held him there, pinned to the ground, immobilized and crushing him with ever-increasing pressure, until the pressing of the wounded shoulder into the hard-packed forest floor squeezed a yelp of pain from him.

Looking up dizzily, he saw Rumplestiltskin standing over him, hand outstretched and glowing with an eerie red light.  He was holding him down with magic, and even if the wound he had already dealt could heal with the traces of silver still in his blood where the bullet went through, he saw that the Dark One simply wouldn’t take the chance of actually fighting him fairly.  The incapacitation he was suffering was more than enough, but Killian sensed there was more yet to come.

Leaning over him now, Gold tossed the gun aside to pull out a gleaming sharp blade that he brandished before Killian’s eyes - now those of a wolf - but still capable of registering that this too was silver and capable of wringing all too much pain from him before the Dark One actually took his life.  He tried once more to snap at the hand so close to his snout, but the silver and the loss of blood had already weakened him, making it a rather pitiful gesture, and the snarl he emitted proved to be the only gesture of any real threat he could muster.

“Now, now, let’s have none of that,” Gold tsked, affecting the tone of a disappointed elder as he crouched over Killian, a tremor running through the wolf that he could not hold in.  Gold waved his hand once more, and Killian felt his jaw latch closed.  He couldn’t snap or bite - his last defense - as the silver blade was held aloft once more; the magic binding his mouth as securely as if it had been a muzzle lashed with rope.  He thrashed his head back and forth in a near panic at having nothing he could do against the coming onslaught.

“You really are a pathetic beast, aren’t you?” Gold mocked.  Running the knife along the tufts of coarse fur, teasing the way Killian’s animal instincts caused him to shiver, sensing the danger and unable to curb the natural reaction.

Slowly, the Dark One trailed the sinister weapon down a flank, and ever so seamlessly increased the pressure until he was slicing a trail of pain through fur, skin, and muscle, laying open Killian’s leg.  When he reached the paw that rested somewhat stunted and immobile on the ground, Gold dug in deeper still, forcing an involuntary whimper and carving a fiery shot of agony across what would be his human wrist to the hand which had been useless to Killian since their last fight centuries ago.

Weaker and weaker with each cut of the blade, Killian found himself rendered practically motionless and had all he could do not to whine helplessly at each new assault, not willing to give Rumplestiltskin the satisfaction of knowing how badly he’d hurt him.  At last, his enemy hissed, practically in his large, furry ear, making sure he couldn’t miss the hideous vow.  “Now that I have you where I want you - at my mercy, as you should be - nothing stops me from cutting out your heart and crushing it, ending your miserable existence at last, as I should have all those years ago.”

His next swipe of the knife was the deepest and worst of all, and Killian only a had a moment to register what he thought was an angry, desperate shout from across the clearing, before his vision went murky, swirling away from his plight, and for a moment, awareness altogether.

~~~~~*****~~~~~*****~~~~

They had barely ventured five minutes into the passage from behind Regina’s fireplace, when Emma was arrested by such a staggering sense of panic and fear that she couldn’t ignore it.  Fumbling to a stop in the dark tunnel between Graham and her father, David walked into her at the abrupt halt and her flashlight fell from nerveless fingers and rolled away across the stone floor of the space.  Clutching at her chest, Emma gaped breathlessly for a moment, not sure what was going on, while he dad quickly recovered himself and reach out firm, solid arms to steady her.

“Emma? What is it?  What’s wrong?” Graham pressed worriedly, bending as well in trying to meet her eyes.

She shook her head helplessly, clutching David’s forearm to pull herself upright and trying to once more catch her breath.  “I’m not sure,” she managed, “but some - something isn’t right.”

“Do we need to go back?” her boss queried, his brow furrowed in concern and moving to gather up her dropped light.  “Can you make it back?”

Emma shook her head again, more vigorously as she tried to make herself clear.  “No, it isn’t with us...at least...I don’t think so.”

Shakily, she stood up straight from leaning on David and tried to bring herself back under control.  The immediate impact had dulled some, but she still felt a persistent ache in her chest; some pounding warning that things were not as they should be.  Puzzling for a moment, Emma tried to consider.  Had she heard or seen some sign that Regina or her mother were aware of their movements? Could they be walking into a trap? It didn’t seem likely.  Nothing appeared to be amiss around them, and David and Graham still stood right beside her.  There wasn’t anything she would have seen or heard in this close a space that they wouldn’t have noticed as well.

No, the danger wasn’t to them. Yet, she couldn’t ignore the niggling worry that still tingled under the surface.  As if to reaffirm, when she shook her head to clear the premonition and press on, another lancing pain shot through her chest.

She looked first to Graham, who handed her back her flashlight, and - though still appearing worried for her - didn’t press her but merely turned back to gather his things again, ready to move forward if they were.

When she glanced to David however, she sensed some sort of dawning understanding in the look he gave her.  There was a soft and almost sadly knowing expression within his eyes as they searched hers.  “Is it in your chest?” he asked gently, as if not wanting to spook her, but to help her come to some realization on her own that he had already reached himself.  “As if something is making your heart clench?”

Cold dread gripped Emma hard, sending a chill through her as she suddenly knew just what was causing her discomfort.  Her mind rebelled at the possibility after so little time knowing him, yet the moment the idea hit her, Emma knew the fear was true and her anxiety only increased.  He was the one in trouble...Killian needed her.  “It’s Killian,” she barely whispered, wide eyes locking on her father’s as he nodded in indication that he had come to the same conclusion.

Though now feeling almost harried, in a rush to go to him as quickly as possible (and again marvelling at how intense their connection was, how desperate the need to assure his safety) Emma tilted her head curiously, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet in her haste to be off but still needing to know, half wanting and half afraid to ask how her father had figured out what was going on inside her. “How did you know?”

Stepping closer, sensing it would be better accepted in her current state - his daughter might even welcome the support - David wrapped Emma into a loose hug, cradling the back of her head in his large, paternal hand.  But even he could see her almost vibrating with tension and that she wasn’t going to be able to stay still much longer.  He gave her an encouraging smile as they stepped apart again.  “I’ll tell you the whole story sometime, okay?  But for now, let’s just say I’ve felt what you’re describing firsthand… when Snow was in danger.  We weren’t even in the same place, but I knew she had been hurt all the same.  I could feel her pain in my own body.”

Emma swallowed hard, nodding her comprehension of his words, though her mind was floundering at the obvious meaning.  “So, does that mean we’re… I mean...do you think Killian and I are…”  She couldn’t quite say ‘True Loves’ in serious context, not just because she had really just met Killian, but also because up until coming back to Storybrooke with Henry, she wouldn’t have even believed such a thing existed.

David looked her right in the eye, not deflecting or putting her off, but being completely honest.  “I couldn’t say.  That’s something the two of you will have to figure out for yourselves.  I do, however, know what you’re feeling.  Don’t worry about following us right now.  I can help Graham.  It’s all under control.”

Emma gave him a relieved, lopsided smile back, her heart rate already picking up again, readying herself to take off.  “Are you sure?” she double-checked.

David nodded with certainty. “Absolutely. Right, Sheriff?”

Graham agreed easily, equally certain that they would be fine and not wanting Emma to be held back from what she needed to anymore than her dad.

“Thanks guys, really,” Emma offered sincerely.  She was already turning to go and edging back the way they had come  “I hate to ditch you like this, but...I have to go.  Something’s wrong, and - crazy as it sounds - I need to find Killian.”

“Understood,” her dad assured simply.  “Now go.”

Emma didn’t waste any time after that, moving as quickly as she possibly could through the darkened passageway they’d already traveled. She stepped out into the mayor’s office once more and nearly jogged from town hall.  The anxious feeling within her only continued to crest though, and once she was out in the open air she took off in a full-out run toward the trees, knowing that whatever was happening, her man was in the forest, and he needed her.

~~~~*****~~~~*****~~~~

Killian wasn’t sure how much longer he could withstand Gold’s torment, caught in his animal form, unable to shift back or fight him, immobilized from the silver now well into his system, he had suffered several deep cuts and lost a fair amount of blood.  Clearly the Dark One didn’t relish putting him out of his misery quickly - even if he did want him dead in the long run.

With an evil chuckle, Gold at last lifted his implement of torture, laying the knife aside, the glimmer of triumph and sadistic glee on his face almost as frightening as what Killian knew was coming.  “You made this almost too easy, pirate.  Soon, you’ll be nothing but a distasteful memory, no one will be any the wiser as to what happened, and really, would will even miss you?”

Biting back the howl of agony that rose up in his bleeding, slashed chest, Killian took in every word, though he couldn’t answer, and panted harshly, fighting just to stay conscious as Gold prodded devilishly at the incision he had made.  The feeling of an evil hand in his chest, rummaging with spiking fingers of pain to find and extract an actual organ was a sensation so strange and unnerving it was hard to convince himself he hadn’t already drifted off in some unconscious hallucination.  Shaking his head in mock sympathy, Gold’s next words sent a whole different kind of fire through the trapped wolf’s veins.  Killian snarled uselessly, hating the villain for his words almost as much as for the torment he was inflicting.  “Well, no one but poor Deputy Swan, that is.  She might miss you a bit, but soon you’ll just be one more in the long line of those who have left and disappointed her.  A perfect state to have her in really, when we need her weakened and distancing herself from others who can help her - putting her walls back up…”

A wrenching jerk alerted Killian that the imp had at last found what he sought, the pressure on his organ blindingly intense as Gold grasped it, squeezing for good measure, doing his task the messy and old-fashioned way, as it caused Killian the most pain and fear, and though his magic could have seen his enemy long dead by then.  Killian couldn’t help the pitiable low whine that escaped him at the fresh agony, much as he wanted to face his end in stoic silence, determined not to show the Dark One his defeat.  He was suffering maddeningly by that point, certain he was about to be snuffed from the world of the living.

Gold’s self-satisfaction however, faltered when he attempted to remove the heart and crush it before Killian’s eyes.  Tugging in both a debilitating and nauseating fashion, the organ simply wouldn’t leave his chest cavity.  Gulping against the heaving sensation, Killian barely staved off the blackness to at least face his final moments head-on.

Then he heard her voice - its defiant beauty ringing out like a beacon on the crisp air through the fading grey of his consciousness.  “Hey! Wanna bet?!” she challenged, bursting into the clearing ready for a fight.

Gold whipped around, startled at the interruption, but only slowly standing from his crouch, a terrifyingly eerie calm about him, even caught in the act. “Actually, Miss Swan, I would take that bet. How are you going to stop me?” As if to display how untroubled he was by her interruption, he turned back to Killian, once more plunging his hand into his chest, drawing a startled and pained yelp from his captive once more.

Emma acted without thinking; sheer adrenaline, fear, and protectiveness fueling her.  She couldn’t let this nutjob gut the man she cared for right in front of her.  Desperate to reach Killian in time, and yet knowing she physically couldn’t, pure instinct caused her to fling her hands out toward Gold, open and outstretched, and unbelievably - just as had happened with Cora - a blinding bright white light filled her palms with warmth before shooting out from her and blowing Gold back from Killian.  

The Dark One himself was taken aback, pushed head over heels to land sprawled and dazed on the ground several feet from his victim.  Acting quickly before he regained his footing or his wits, Emma rushed to her wolf’s side, one hand gently easing into the hair on his ruff, but the other still raised, warily braced for Gold to strike back.  

“I might have known,” Gold spat, sure enough only moments later climbing back to his feet and eyeing Emma with a narrowed, calculating expression.  “Product of True Love and all… I figured as much in theory, but you showed no signs…” He seemed to be racing through the turn of events in his mind before his gaze snapped back to Emma, and Killian behind her, again. Sneering in warning, his true cowardice showed through despite his threatening words when he took a step back in retreat rather than pressing his advantage.  “You may have taken me by surprised this time,” he hissed as he backed further away, clearly uncertain of just how powerful Emma was and unwilling to find out how she would fare against him, “but this isn’t over, Savior.”  He offered that last with a mocking tone given to Emma’s title. And then, before she could even respond, he had vanished in a puff of his trademark red smoke.

Emma waited a moment, pulled tight as a bowstring, fully expecting him to return and attack unawares.  Nothing of the sort happened though; she and Killian were alone now beneath the trees. A low, pleading sort of whine left the throat of the wolf before her, and as she turned anxiously to help him, and scared by the various cuts and the glistening of wet blood against his black fur, her attention was immediately fully focused on Killian.

As if he could sense the shift in her mind, the large canine lying in pain at her side attempted some sort of greeting, his tail thumping listlessly against the leaves and dirt of the forest floor.  There was a sort of knowing, a human recognition in those still stunning blue eyes, Emma noticed with affection. Even in an animal face, she could see through them how glad he was to see her, and also just how much he was hurting.  The whimpers, low and barely escaping through his still magically-shut muzzle were like little strikes to her heart, and Emma reached out, not sure what was proper or right, but needing to ease him however she could, running her fingers over his silky, dark head lovingly and scratching behind his pointed ears.  “Oh, Killian,” Emma murmured, still worried by the lethargic response.  “I’m sorry, but you’re going to be okay, alright?”

Again the soulful, sad-eyed look was levied at her and her stomach clenched at just how many cuts and tears there were along his hide.  Knowing that her father and Graham were likely to drop everything and come running - even though what they were doing was important and pressing to do before Regina showed herself or caught them at it - Emma fumbled for her cell with shaking fingers and dialed the only other person she could think of who might know what to do.

When Ruby’s voice answered on the other end of the line, Emma was so overcome with relief that she could hardly put it into words. Quickly explaining where she was and what had happened to Killian as briefly as possible, Emma hoped Ruby would know what she could do.  Valiantly she tried to ignore the emotional quaver in her voice, and thankfully Ruby seemed to do the same when she responded.

“Okay, Emma, look he’s going to be fine,” her friend promised, keeping her voice steady and in command, strengthening Emma’s own shaken nerves perfectly.  “Gold’s used silver against him, and that’s what is making the effects so severe.  He’ll be able to heal, and relatively quick at that, since he’s in wolf form.  If you can just get him someplace safe and make sure nothing else silver gets anywhere near him, he only needs a little time until the symptoms wear off, okay?”

Emma nodded, then echoed “okay” back to Ruby sheepishly upon realizing that the other woman couldn’t hear her over phone wires unless she spoke up.

“Emma!” Ruby prompted, her voice a bit sharper as she called Emma back from worried reverie.  “He’s going to be alright.  I promise.  As long as he can rest and you stay with him until his body’s reserves can replenish themselves.  Can you do that?”

“Of course,” Emma replied in a voice she hoped sounded a lot more certain than she felt inside.

“Good, I’ll let you go then.  Keep me posted, alright? I’ll let Graham and your parents know where you are and what’s happening as well.”

“Thanks, Ruby,” Emma replied, hanging up as her friend bid her farewell.

Looking back down at Killian lying before her, she found it hard to believe there wasn’t more she could be doing for him, but she was no veterinarian, and Ruby was a wolf herself, she would know what Killian needed better than Emma in this case.  Stroking a tender finger down the furry snout lying against her knee, Emma whispered, “Hang in there, Jones.  We’re going to take care of you, and you’ll be just fine.  You trust me, right?”

In a response that could have almost made her weep for joy, his long pink tongue slipped out and gently lapped at her fingers sweetly, as if wordlessly confirming that he had understood her words and was indeed confirming his belief in her. Whatever had been holding his mouth closed unnaturally seemed to have been loosed, and he could at least move his jaw normally again.  She took it for a good sign and chuckled lightly at the affectionate gesture.

“Thanks,” she said wryly after the impromptu tongue bathing, even as she was already looking for some way to transport the injured wolf.  She knew he had been headed to check out Gold’s cabin, and from what she remembered of the structure’s location, they were nearly there. It wasn’t ideal certainly, considering who had put Killian into this state.  But, in all honesty, one place was really just as safe as another when it came to Gold.  With his power, he could appear anywhere to come after them when it suited his whims.  What was more important was getting Killian into some shelter for the night so he could heal.

“Okay, buddy, here goes nothing,” Emma offered, standing to remove her leather jacket and spreading it out on the ground, patting it in some mix between cajoling a pet and playfully wheedling with a reluctant friend. “Can you scoot just a little onto this jacket and maybe I can pull you like a makeshift sled?” She really wasn’t sure if he understood her words, or if that impression was only in her mind, and she knew he couldn’t answer her.  However, she was surprised when he shook his head, almost as if saying ‘no’ with an indignant ‘whuf’ of air to accentuate the gesture.

Then slowly, painstakingly, he pulled himself to sitting and then finally standing shakily on all fours.  Emma hurried to his side, wide-eyed and trying not to let the fact that she too was trembling all over show.  Standing near enough for him to lean against her shins - which he did with nearly every step - they began to hobble forward out of the clearing and along the short path left to the cabin.

His size even in wolf form had Killian standing nearly even with her hip. Black as coal in coat, he was truly a breathtakingly beautiful animal, even limping with his head hung low as it was and with the tremors she could feel coursing through him.

Their progress was slow, but Emma sensed Killian needed to do this under his own power rather than lying helpless any longer.  She was glad he could manage it, and found her fingers sinking into the thick fur at his neck, carding the coarse hairs for additional contact, assuring herself he was still with her, still pushing forward with each labored step  She was kicking herself now for wanting to deny whatever sort of abilities she possessed; she might be able to transport them to safety or heal him instantly if she had tried to find out what she was capable of instead of denying the ability existed. Yet, if gutting this out helped Killian fight back in some way, she would lend her strength to lean on and allow them that much.

Finally, the cabin was in sight, and after barely pulling himself up the steps, Emma opened the thick wooden door and watched as Killian limped the half dozen steps to a rug by the fireplace and collapsed upon it, sides heaving horribly.  Seeing a box of matches on the mantle, Emma struck one, and lit the few small logs remaining in the hearth to generate some warmth.  She stroked a loving hand down his flank before rising from her crouch, to which a full body shiver ran through his form in response.

“Rest,” she ordered firmly. “I’ll be right back. We’ll clean you up and get you feeling better.”

Hurrying to the adjoining bathroom, she was delighted to find running water, which she turned on to get hot for bathing his wounds and began digging through the medicine cabinet above hoping to find some sort of antiseptic as well.  Rummaging through, she was startled by a sound of something tumbling in the other room.

Running back to Killian and hoping Gold hadn’t already returned to complete his attack, she was brought up short by the sight which greeted her. There by the fireplace stood Killian Jones, once more in human form, though looking more than a little rumpled and confused, and with bare skin on full display.  One hand was bracing him on the mantelpiece, while the other hand had moved to clutch at a knitted blanket draped over a rocking chair nearby in an effort to preserve his modesty, but he’d frozen when she burst back into the room, just as she had.

The firelight glinted off his muscled form, making him glow like a bronzed statue, and it was all Emma could do to pull her eyes up the expanse of dark hair covered chest and strong shoulders to Killian’s searching face watching hers uncertainly. Her cheeks flamed with both embarrassment and attraction in equal measure. She had to lick her lips, her mouth suddenly dry, in spite of herself, before her voice stuttered awkwardly to ask, “K-Killian? Are you alright?”

His ocean eyes swept up to meet hers, and their gazes locked on each other.  The air between them practically sizzled. And then he responded, “Aye, I’ll live… Thanks to you.”

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