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the-girl-in-the-band-tshirt · 6 years ago

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Captain Swan Secret Santa 2018

Hello, hello, @downeystarkjr! It is I, your Captain Swan secret Santa New Year’s baby! And with that, let me apologize profusely for how late this is. *facepalm*

I tried so hard to plot out a story based on what you said you wanted to see, but having no exposure to Zorro (*hides*), that was tough. And I just generally couldn’t come up with something to match your wishes that would satisfy. But then - BUT THEN you mentioned one of your favorite movies is 10 Things I Hate About You, and it just so happens that’s one of my all-time favorite movies AND I’ve been dying to write Captain Swan into that movie for a while now. So I started writing. And I kept writing. And I wrote some more. And this @cssecretsanta2k18 fic got much longer than I planned it to be. Oh, and there are a few details in there catered to you, and I hope those make you smile. :)

So it’s been drafted for a bit now, but the editing process is proving slower. My beta is my lovely friend @ohmakemeahercules, who I have to thank here because, dang, she’s put up with a lot from me. And she’s fabulous! And this fic would absolutely not be near as readable as it is now without her (and it’s not even done being edited yet - she’s that amazing!). And we will continue working on this thing to give you the best gift it can be. However, I didn’t want you to have to wait any longer, so here’s a partially edited story for you! When it is fully edited, I’ll make another post on here, and I’ll also post it to ao3 at that point. Until then, I hope I can keep talking to you! You and I, apparently, have a lot in common, and I’d love to get to know you better!

I hope you’re not too disappointed it’s not exactly what you asked for. Here goes...

“What did everyone think of The Sun Also Rises?” Mr. Pendragon crossed his arms and leaned against the chalkboard as he scanned his classroom for any sign of intellectual thought.

“I loved it. It was so romantic.” That was Ashley, a sweet girl who worked two jobs after school to help her family make ends meet. But she treated Hemingway like a fairytale.

“Romantic?” Scoffed Emma Swan, the opinionated and sarcastic girl seated in the back row. Mr. Pendragon squeezed his eyes shut, already feeling a headache blooming. “Hemingway was an abusive alcoholic misogynist who squandered half his life hanging around Picasso trying to nail his leftovers.”

Nearly every student in the room rolled their eyes at her.

“As opposed to a bitter, self-righteous bitch who has no friends?” Mr. Pendragon rolled his eyes this time as Neal Gold, the rich kid bully, chimed in.

“Pipe down, Gold,” the teacher stepped in.

Emma Swan fumed at Neal from her seat before turning back to face the front of the room. “I guess in this society being male and an asshole makes you worthy of our time. What about Sylvia Plath or Charlotte Bronte or Simone de Beauvoir?”

Suddenly, everyone in the class jerked their heads toward the door as Killian Jones walked in, leather jacket despite the warm temperature outside, no books, and late as usual. He scratched behind his ear as he looked around the classroom.

“What did I miss?” He asked in a British accent.

Before anyone else could answer, Emma spoke up. “Just the oppressive patriarchal values that dictate our education.”

Killian nodded, muttering a, “good,” before leaving the room. Mr. Pendragon tried to call after him, but it was no use.

Turning back to the class, Mr. Pendragon addressed Emma. “Ms. Swan, I want to thank you for your point of view.” He paused as Emma sent a smirk Neal’s way. Just when she felt validated, he added, “I know how difficult it must be for you to overcome all those years of upper middle-class suburban oppression. It must be tough.” At that, Emma slumped back into her seat, a scowl returning to her face.

“Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Mr. Pendragon headed to the front of the classroom. “Go to the office. I don’t need to deal with this right now.”

“Mr. Pendragon! What?!”

“You heard me.”

Emma huffed out a breath as she left the room, but not before knocking Neal on the side of his head to stop his snickering.

“Emma Blanchard,” Ms. Perky, the guidance counselor, addressed the student walking into her office, “why am I not surprised to see you again?”

“It's Swan. Emma Swan. I'm adopted.” She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, bored with the routine. Ms. Perky made a disapproving noise and proceeded to type on her computer, not even looking Emma's way.

“Your father is a Blanchard. Your sister is a Blanchard. It says ‘Blanchard’ on the roster and in the system,” Ms. Perky reminded Emma.

“And I'm a Swan.”

Ms. Perky paused, grinning to herself as she glanced between her mug and Emma, who raised her eyebrows waiting for an explanation. “Swan,” she pointed to her swan-printed mug. “Swan,” she pointed at Emma while laughing out loud. Emma nodded overdramatically as she waited for the guidance counselor to get down to business. “So I hear you were terrorizing Mr. Pendragon’s class again.”

“Expressing my opinion is not a terrorist action.”

“The point is people see you as somewhat-”

“Tempestuous?”

“‘Heinous bitch’ is the term used most often. “You might want to work on that.”

Emma’s lips slightly upturned. She was almost seemed impressed with herself, despite the unflattering connotation.

Ms. Perky went back to typing as Emma waited for her dismissal. The counselor sighed and lowered her glasses before a tired “thank you” was uttered.”

Emma grabbed her backpack from the floor. She faced Ms. Perky and said, with extreme sarcasm, “as always, thank you for your excellent guidance.” She exited the room without another word.

That afternoon, Emma and her best friend, Lily, waited in Emma’s car for her younger sister, Mary Margaret. However, Mary Margaret was more interested in catching the eye of Neal Gold, the most popular guy in senior year. She and her best friend, Tamara, walked by him for the fourth time that afternoon trying to get noticed. Fourth time was the charm, as Neal called out, “looking good, ladies.” Tamara sent Neal a predatory grin before leading Mary Margaret away from the boy before she started giggling and making a fool of herself in front of him.

“They’re out of reach, even for you, Gold.” Felix, another senior, said.

Neal glared at his friend. “No one’s out of reach for me.”

“You want to put money on that?”

Neal shook his head, still watching the girls walk away. “Money I’ve got. This I’m going to do for fun.”

Meanwhile, Neal wasn’t the only guy with his eye on Mary Margaret.

“Who’s that guy?” David Nolan, a new kid to Storybrooke High, asked his tour guide, August Booth.

“Neal Gold. He’s rich. He’s a model. And he’s a moron.”

“A model?” To be honest, Neal didn’t strike David as a model.

“Eh,” August shrugged. “Mostly regional stuff. But he’s rumored to have a tube sock ad coming out.”

David gave August a look that screamed, “really?,” to which August just nodded. They both laughed.

“Man, just look at her. Is she always so-”

“Clueless? Airheaded? Into herself?” In truth, August didn’t really know Mary Margaret well, but she was easily the most popular girl in the school.

“Don’t say that about her. There’s more to her than you think. I mean, look at the way she smiles. And look at her eyes, man. She’s totally pure. You’re missing what’s there.”

“No, David. What’s there is a bratty little princess wearing a strategically planned sundress to make guys like us realize we can never touch her, and guys like Neal realize they want to. We will spend the rest of our lives not being able to have girls like her. Just move on, dude.”

David crossed his arms and took a step back from August. “No. You’re wrong about her.”

August put his hands up in surrender. “Fine. I’m wrong. You want to take a shot? Be my guest. She’s actually looking for a French tutor.”

David’s entire face lit up. “Seriously? That’s perfect!”

“Do you speak French?”

“No.” He stared dreamily at Mary Margaret, who was waving goodbye to her friend. “But I will.”

On her way to her sister’s car, Mary Margaret was stopped in her tracks by Neal Gold pulling up in his convertible.

“Hey. Would you and your friend like a ride?”

Mary Margaret barely waited to breathe before she called out to Tamara, who ran over and got in Neal’s car right behind her friend.

Emma and Lily, who had watched the drama unfold, rolled their eyes simultaneously.

“That’s a charming new development,” Lily said sarcastically.

Scrunching her face in disgust, Emma added, “it’s pathetic.” She buckled her seatbelt and prepared to drive just the two of them. Right when she was about to back out, Emma had to slam the breaks because of a stalled motorcycle directly behind her car. “Hey,” she yelled, “remove head from ass, then drive!”

The motorcyclist scooted away sans motor so Emma could pull out. She flipped him off and sped out of the parking lot.

David Nolan came running up to the rider - August. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Just a minor encounter with the shrew, your girlfriend’s sister.”

“That’s Mary Margaret’s sister?” David was in a state of disbelief.

August nodded, “adopted.” With that, he once again got his motorcycle working. Sending David a knowing smile, he put on his helmet and rode off.

Emma was happily lying on the living room couch reading a book when her adoptive father arrived home.

“Hello, Emma. Make anyone cry today?”

“Sadly, no, but it’s only 4:30.”

Leo Blanchard’s smile only grew as Mary Margaret came inside and greeted her father.

“Hi, Daddy.” She kissed his cheek and moved Emma’s feet so she could sit on the couch.

“Hello, precious.”

“And where have you been?” Emma bookmarked her page and closed the book, expecting some amusement as her father learns that her sister was in a car with Neal Gold.

“Nowhere.” She gave Emma a pleading look.

Emma promptly ignored her sister. “Ask Mary Margaret who drove her home.”

Leo waited for an answer from his biological daughter.

“Now, don’t get upset, but there’s this boy.” Mary Margaret couldn’t help grinning at the thought of a boy liking her.

“Who’s a flaming imbecile,” Emma chimed in.

“And I think he might ask me-”

“Please. I think I know what he’s going to ask you. And I think I know the answer: No. 1, it’s always no. What are the house rules? No. 1, no dating till you graduate. No. 2, no dating till you graduate. That’s it.”

“That’s so unfair! I’m the only girl in school who’s not dating.” She put on the puppy-dog face.

“No, you’re not. Your sister doesn’t date.”

Emma smiled proudly. “And I don’t intend to.”

“And why is that again?” Leo turned to his adopted daughter, beaming smile on his face.

“Have you seen the unwashed miscreants that go to that school?” Emma could actually see the moment a new idea sparked in her father’s brain.

“Okay. You’re unhappy with the old rule - fine. Old rule out. New rule in: Mary Margaret can date-” Mary Margaret squealed with delight; Emma gasped at the unfairness. Leo pointed at Emma, “-when she does.”

“So I was thinking.” David Nolan sat across from Mary Margaret Blanchard at a library table.

“Yeah?”

“Well, there’s no better way to learn a language than by doing, right?” She looked confused. “What about French food? We could eat some, you know, together? Saturday night?”

“That’s so cute! You’re asking me out.” Mary Margaret’s voice got dangerously high-pitched before her delight switched to disappointment.

David watched her emotions play out on her face. “Oh, I mean, I know your dad doesn’t let you date, but I thought maybe if it was for French class-”

“Oh, wait a minute!” She was smiling again. “My dad just came up with a new rule. I can date if my sister does.”

David’s face lit up.

“Don’t get too excited, David. My sister is pretty much incapable of human interaction nowadays.”

“Well, I’m sure that there are lots of guys who wouldn’t mind going out with a difficult woman,” he sounded unsure, but he was determined.

“You really think you could find someone extreme enough to date her?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

Mary Margaret reached out and touched David’s arm. “You’d do that for me?”

“Absolutely.”

After a long and fruitless search - apparently Emma Swan’s reputation precedes her - David knew he had the right guy in biology as he watched Killian Jones hack away at his dissection frog rather than delicately cut it.

“Hey, what about him?” David whispered to August, pointing at Killian.

“No, no. Don’t look at him, okay? He's a criminal.” August slapped David’s arm down from pointing at Killian and avoided even glancing in that direction.

David watched as Killian took out a cigarette from his leather jacket pocket and lit it using his Bunsen burner. He almost got around to smoking it, but his lab partner grabbed it and put it out. Obviously frustrated, he rested his head on one of his arms that was on the lab table and brooded. Abandoning the assignment altogether, he passed his right hand through the Bunsen burner’s flame on and off. As David continued to watch Killian, he knew had found the perfect guy for Emma.

“How do we get him to date Emma?” August looked at his friend, who was staring at Killian Jones from across the cafeteria. He didn’t think dealing with Killian Jones was a great idea, but David was convinced.

“I don’t know. We could pay him, except that we don’t have any money.” David slumped in his seat, deflated at the idea of not being able to take Mary Margaret out.

“Yeah. Well, what we need is a backer.” David sat up a little straighter. “You know, someone with money who’s stupid.” David followed August’s gaze to the popular table, where Neal Gold was laughing obnoxiously loudly with his posse. August turned to David, nodding. “I got this.” With that, August walked over to Neal’s table and took an empty chair, pretending to laugh to blend in.

“Are you lost?” Neal asked August.

“I just came by to chat,” August said confidently. David couldn’t believe August wanted to work with the competition.

“We don’t chat.”

“Actually, I thought that I'd run an idea by you, just to see if you're interested.”

Neal interrupted, “I’m not.”

“You want Mary Margaret, right?” Now August had Neal’s attention. “She can't go out with you because her sister is a heinous bitch who growls if you stare too long. What I think you need to do is hire someone who doesn’t scare so easily, tame the beast, so to speak.” August turned his attention to Killian, expecting Neal to follow. He did. “Seems like a solid investment, right?”

Neal narrowed his eyes. “What’s in it for you?”

“Hey. I’m walking down the hall and say hello to you, you say hello to me. Or at least maybe you don’t treat me and my friend like crap all the time.”

“Alright. I get it.” August nodded, and Neal nodded in return - an agreement - before telling August to leave. “We’re done now.” August got up and returned to his seat next to David.

“What are you doing getting him involved?”

“Relax. We’ll let him think he’s calling the shots, but you’ll be the one spending time with Mary Margaret while he sets everything up.”

“Okay. That’s not a bad idea, actually.” David was so ready to take out the girl of his dreams.

Killian Jones sat with his friend Will Scarlet. They were smoking on the bench on the sideline of the soccer field. Killian steeled his features, abruptly ceasing his laughter over something Will had said, as none other than Neal Gold approached the bench. Killian said nothing, hoping Neal would get bored and leave. No such luck.

“Hey. How ya doing?”

Killian put his cigarette between his teeth. “Can I help you?”

“See that girl?” Neal was pointing at one of the girls playing soccer, her long blond hair pulled up in a ponytail as she fought one of the other players for the ball.

He took the cigarette from his mouth. “I see her.” He kept watching her, somehow compelled not to look away.

“That’s Emma Swan. I want you to go out with her.” Neal was grinning smugly when Killian turned his attention back to him.

“Yeah, sure, Sparky.” Killian looked at Will and the two laughed. Killian returned the cigarette to his mouth for a moment before removing it and throwing it down on the ground in front of him.

“Look; I can’t take out her sister until Emma starts dating. You see, their dad’s insane. He’s got this rule where the girls-”

Killian put a hand up, stopping Neal’s jabbering. “That’s a touching story. It really is. Also not my problem.”

“Would you be willing to make it your problem if I provide generous compensation?” Neal waggled his eyebrows, still grinning.

Killian narrowed his eyes just barely. “You’re going to pay me to take out some lass?” Neal’s grin grew as he gave Killian a single nod. “How much?” Killian could use the money, and there are worse ways to earn money than spending a night with a pretty girl.

“Twenty bucks.”

The three guys turned their attention back to the field to watch Emma. Killian crossed his arms and turned back to Neal after she violently body checked another player.

Neal sighed. “Fine. Thirty.”

Killian held up his index finger and shook it. “Well, let’s think about this. We go to the movies - that’s, say, 20 bucks. I get gas for my car, we get popcorn - that’s 60. And if she has a sweet tooth, we’re looking at 75 bucks.”

“I’m not negotiating this. Take it or leave it.”

Killian shrugged. “Fifty bucks and we’ve got a deal.” He held out his hand to Neal, and this time, he was the one wiggling his eyebrows. Neal sighed as he pulled a $50 bill from his wallet, placing it in Killian’s outstretched hand. Pocketing the cash, he waved to Neal and said good-bye to Will as he made himself comfortable on the concrete bench to watch the rest of practice.

As soon as the coach dismissed the soccer team, Killian stood up, shoved his hands into his pockets, and prepared himself to approach Emma Swan. As she packed some things into her equipment bag, Killian came up behind her.

“Hey there, love. How are you this fine afternoon?”

Emma swung around at his voice, clearly startled, though refusing to let him know it. “First, not your love. Second, sweating like a pig, actually. And yourself?”

“Now there’s a way to get a guy’s attention.”

She rolled her eyes. “My mission in life.” Her eyes narrowed when Killian didn’t walk away. She threw her bag over her shoulder then crossed her arms. “But apparently I’ve gotten your attention, so, you see, it worked.” Emma started off back to the locker room to get the rest of her stuff so she could get home and shower. She did not expect him to follow her.

“Pick you up Friday, then?”

She swung around to face him once again. “Oh, right. Friday. Yeah, sure.”

He lowered his voice, “I’ll take you places you’ve never been before.”

“Like the alley behind the drugstore on Main Street? Do you even know my name, jackass?”

“I know a lot more than you think.”

“Doubtful. Very doubtful.”

“You’re something of an open book.” She stuttered in her movement to walk away. There was something in his face that told her he wasn’t lying. But if he thought he knew her, he had another thing coming. After taking another moment to scan her suitor, she turned around and walked inside, not letting him call after her or follow.

Alone on the field, Killian actually smiled as he said the only two words coming to mind at that moment, “bloody hell.”

Later that night, Emma was brushing her teeth before bed when her sister came into the bathroom for her nightly routine.

“Have you ever considered a new look? I mean, seriously, you could have some definite potential buried under all that hostility.” Emma stilled the hand holding her toothbrush and stared at her sister, who looked entirely unfazed.

“I’m not hostile. I’m annoyed.”

“Why don’t you try being nice? I know you are. But people at school wouldn’t know what to think.”

“You forget that I don’t care what people think. Stopped caring ages ago.”

Mary Margaret turned to Emma and put a hand on her shoulder. “You do care.”

Emma shook her head and spit the toothpaste out of her mouth. “No, I don’t. And you don’t always have to be who they want you to be. You know that?”

“I happen to enjoy being liked by people.”

Emma rinsed her toothbrush before looking back at her sister. “Wait, where’d you get that necklace?”

“It’s Mom’s,” Mary Margaret squeaked out.

Emma couldn’t believe this. Only three years after their mother’s death and Mary Margaret thought she could just take her things. “And you’ve been hiding it for three years?”

“No. Dad found it in a drawer last week.”

“And you’re wearing it now? Is that going to be a normal thing?”

“It’s not like she’s going to wear it. And she always said she thought it would look good on me.”

Emma shook her head and felt the tears threatening to spill. “Trust me,” she spat out, “it doesn’t.”

With bags of food in hand, Emma emerged from the grocery store to find Killian Jones leaning against her car.

“This is quite the vessel you captain here, Swan.”

She rested the bags on the sidewalk, but she still gripped the handles. “Are you following me?”

“I was at Marco’s. Saw your car - hard to miss, that yellow Bug. I came over to say hi.”

“Hi.” She picked up her groceries and moved to put them in her car. Killian kept a hand on the door, stopping her from opening it.

“Not a big talker?”

“Depends on the topic. Hearing people mock my car doesn’t really whip me into a verbal frenzy.”

Killian stared at her like he was putting together a puzzle, trying to figure her out. His voice was high-pitched with curiosity as he asked, “you’re not afraid of me, are you?”

“Afraid of you?” She managed to get her door open and shoved her bags in the car before turning back around to face her stalker. “Why would I be afraid of you?”

He shrugged. “Most people are.”

“I’m not.”

“Well, maybe you’re not afraid of me. But I’m sure you’ve thought about me naked.” He gave her a knowing wink. She thought it was absolutely obnoxious.

She feigned surprise. “Am I that transparent?” He chuckled as she wedged herself into her car. Putting his hands up in mock innocence, Killian backed up onto the sidewalk as Emma started to pull away. Of course, Neal Gold parked his show-off classic car in the road directly behind her. “What is it, asshole day?” She muttered to herself. To Neal, who was walking into his father’s pawn shop, she yelled, “hey, do you mind?”

He yelled back, “no, not at all,” before walking into the shop and slamming the door behind him.

Fed up, Emma backed straight out and into Neal’s car, pushing it until it was out of the way. Her car may be old, but it was built better than his rich-kid car. She started to pull out of the parking lot, flipping Neal off as he came running out of the store.

“What the hell, bitch?!”

“Oops!” She laughed as she pulled away, even flashing Killian a smile from her window before disappearing from view.

Killian had stood on the sidewalk watching the whole scene, a delighted smile gracing his face as Neal ran to his car to assess the damage. Emma Swan could certainly hold her own.

After being properly lectured about the accident by her father, who tried and failed to hide that he was definitely a tad proud, Emma’s reading was interrupted by a screech from her sister.

“Did you maim Neal’s car?!”

“Yup. Looks like you’re going to have to take the bus, or, you know, ride with your bitch of a sister.” Emma smiled, but didn’t bother looking up from her book.

“Has the fact that you’re completely insane managed to escape your attention?”

Emma shrugged. Mary Margaret let out a noise of frustration and then walked away.

Killian was at his locker talking to Will when none other than Neal Gold came strutting over and slammed Killian’s locker closed.

“When I shell out fifty bucks, I expect results.” He looked like he was two seconds from grabbing Killian’s jacket and lifting him up against the lockers, if only he wasn’t scared of Killian.

“I’m on it, mate.” He grinned at Will before turning back to a still-fuming Neal. Will slapped Killian on the back as he took his leave.

“Watching that bitch ram into my car doesn’t count as a date. If you don’t get some, I don’t get some. So get some.” Neal glared at Killian for a solid minute before starting to walk away when it was clear Killian wasn’t budging.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Killian called after him. “I just upped my price.”

Neal stared in disbelief. With what happened to Neal’s car, Killian figured he could get more out of him, though getting Emma Swan to go out with him was not about the money anymore. He liked a good challenge, and he might even like her. But the money wouldn’t hurt.

“Hundred bucks a date in advance.” Killian stood confidently as Neal stomped over to him.

“Forget it.” He started to walk away again.

“Forget her sister, then.” Killian knew he had Neal there.

Neal fished another $50 bill from his wallet. “You better hope you’re as smooth as you think you are, Jones.”

Killian said nothing, just took the money with a smug smile and walked away, leaving Neal at the lockers.

Killian Jones looked forward to his daily 45 minutes of shop class. He liked being hands-on, and it was a creative outlet. Since shop was an elective and it involved some heavy machinery, shop was the class in which the least amount of his classmates were scared of him. And the best part for Killian - his prosthetic hand was a guaranteed steady weight, and he didn’t risk cutting himself on that hand.

Their latest project was the most obvious of projects for a high school shop class: A birdhouse. However, the students could design their birdhouses to look like anything they wanted, so Killian was modeling his as a ship. His older brother had served in the navy, and Liam had gotten his younger brother fascinated with ships.

Just as Killian was working on carving the boat’s largest sail, he was approached by two guys who were absolutely not in the class.

The blonde spoke first. “We know what you’re trying to do with Emma Swan.”

Killian put down the sander he was using on the sail. “Is that so? And what do you plan to do about it?”

“Help you out.”

That was not the response he was expecting. “Why’s that?”

The kid in the too-tight leather jacket answered. “The situation is my man David here is really into Mary Margaret Blanchard.”

Killian sighed. Of course. “What is it with this lass?”

“Look, I think I speak correctly when I say that David's love is pure - purer than, say, Neal Gold’s.”

“I really don’t give a damn who Gold nails. He’s paying me. That’s all this is.”

David reacted before his friend could get a word out. “There will be no nailing going on.”

The friend put a hand up to stop David from continuing. “Killian, Let me explain something to you here. We set this whole thing up so David could get the girl - David. Neal's just a pawn.”

“So you two are going to help me tame the wild beast?” Killian alternated pointing between the two guys in front of him.

“We’ll do some research. We’ll find out what she likes.” Both of the guys were grinning at Killian. “Let’s start with Friday night. Matt Murdock is throwing a party - the perfect opportunity for you to take Emma out.”

“I’ll think about it.” Picking up the sander once more, Killian got back to work on his birdhouse, hoping his intruders would take the hint and go away. Once they were gone, patting each other on their backs as they walked away, the noise from the sander chased off any thoughts of Emma Swan and this plan he’d gotten mixed up in.

“So, Mary Margaret, have you heard about Murdock’s party Friday?” David looked at his walking companion.

“Yes. And I really, really, really want to go, but I can't - not unless my sister goes.”

“I know. I’m working on that. But so far, she just isn’t going for my guy.” Mary Margaret nodded slowly. Of course her sister wasn’t going for some guy. “She’s not, you know-”

“No,” Mary Margaret answered plainly. “She’s definitely into guys. I found magazine cutouts of actors she likes in her drawer once.”

“So that’s the kind of guys she likes - pretty guys?”

Mary Margaret shook her head. “I don’t know. All I've ever heard her say is that she'd die before dating a guy that smokes.”

“Okay. Helpful. What else?”

“You’re asking me to get inside my sister’s twisted mind? I don’t think so, David.”

“Well, nothing else has worked. We might have to go behind enemy lines here.”

Mary Margaret stopped in her tracks as she considered the idea. “Okay, come with me.” David couldn’t quite hide the smile blooming on his face. “You are really lucky I like you.”

Back at the Blanchard household, the two made sure Emma wasn’t home before creeping into her room.

“She keeps all her junk in this drawer.” Mary Margaret opened it slowly and started rifling through it. David stood awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of how exactly to act in Emma Swan’s bedroom. “Class schedule, reading list, planner, coffee receipts, concert tickets.” There was some potentially useful stuff there. David approached slowly, taking the items Mary Margaret had gathered. “Ah-ha! Red panties!”

David coughs. “What does that tell us?”

“She wants to have sex someday!”

“Or she’s really into red? She does wear that jacket all the time.”

“You don’t buy red lingerie unless you want someone to see it,” Mary Margaret laughed at his flustered behavior.

“Right.” David pulled the pile of Emma material closer to him as he took a step back from where Mary Margaret held out the red underwear. “You can put that back now.”

Rolling her eyes, she put the panties back in the drawer and took the pile from David. He got out his phone and took pictures of her schedule, reading list, and concert tickets. He’d take a more detailed look once they were out of Emma’s room. “You so owe me for coming in here.”

“Freedom to go to Murdock’s party?”

“I suppose that’s a start.”

Killian Jones worked part-time as a bartender at a local bar. The hours meant very little sleep, and he was late for school a lot after sleeping through his alarm, but the bar’s owner let him do homework behind the bar and he liked his regulars. The last thing he expected to see on the job was the two guys from shop class walk in. They looked entirely out of place, David in his bright plaid shirt and too-big grin on his face.

“So this is what a bar looks like.”

Killian ran to the front of the bar and pulled David by his shirt collar over to the pool table. “If my boss caught you two at the bar, I could lose my job. Why are you here?”

David pried his shirt from Killian’s fist and his grin disappeared. “We have some intel for you.”

Killian sat on the edge of the pool table. “All right. What’ve you got?”

“Wait. We can’t be at the bar, but you can work at one?” August crossed his arms.

“Owner is a family friend. If I drink, I lose my job,” Killian paused and looked between the two guys. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

Nodding in understanding, David went back to the night’s intended subject. “Well, thing No. 1, Emma hates smokers - hates.”

Killian’s jaw dropped.

“So you’re telling me I’m now a non-smoker?” August reached into Killian’s jacket pocket and took his pack of cigarettes.

“Yup.” Killian narrowed his eyes at August in anger. “But just for now.” He pocketed the cigarettes and held his hands up in innocence.

“Actually, there’s another problem,” David started. Killian turned his attention to him and raised his eyebrows in question. “Mary Margaret said Emma likes, um, pretty guys.”

Killian stared at David in silence for a second. “Are you telling me I’m not a pretty guy?”

“You’re very pretty. Gorgeous, in fact. Right, David?” August elbowed David in the side.

“Yup. Very pretty. I just, you know, I wasn’t sure.”

Killian started walking away, thinking the conversation was over.

“Wait. We have more.” David held up a crumpled up piece of paper.

Killian glanced over at the bar to make sure he was covered before turning back to David. “Go on.”

“Okay. Likes: Chinese and Indian food, hot chocolate, coffee, ‘80s music, Robert Downey Jr., and ‘90s boy bands, which I just cannot believe.” David pulled out another sheet of notebook paper. “This is for you - list of dvds she has in her room, list of books on her bookshelf that look the most read, and her most played songs on her iPod.”

“So I’m supposed to buy her Chicken Tikka Masala, a book, and sit around watching Robert Downey Jr. movies when we aren’t listening to Michael Jackson and Bon Jovi?”

Killian’s knowledge of the things David listed honestly surprised both August and him.

“Actually, have you ever heard of Avril Lavigne?”

“She has tickets to see her tomorrow night.”

“Absolutely not. I can’t be seen at an Avril Lavigne concert.”

“If it helps, she’s got a pair of red underwear.”

Leaving Killian gaping, David and August left.

As he headed back to the bar to resume work, Killian groaned because he knew he had to go to that bloody concert the following night.

Killian could not be happier that the venue Avril Lavigne was playing had a bar with a bartender who absolutely could not tell a fake ID from a real one. Nursing a glass of rum - he limited himself to two; he had to drive home himself and he wasn’t that irresponsible - he watched Emma dance to the music with her friend. She was a vision in a green tank top and jeans, strong arms on display without her usual red leather jacket. Her hair was only just slightly wavy as she flipped it over her shoulder. He watched as she said something to her friend before heading his way. Spinning himself around on the stool, he pretended to be extremely interested in his phone all the sudden.

“Two waters, please.”

Killian could tell when she noticed him sitting there by her aggravated groan. “If you’re planning on asking me out again, you might as well get it over with.”

“Do you mind? I can’t hear the music over your voice.”

She knew perfectly well that he was not there for the music. “You’re not surrounded by your usual cloud of smoke.”

“Yeah. About that - I quit. Did you know those things are bad for you?”

“Wait. You quit?”

“Aye.” Killian took it as a win when Emma stared at him, too stunned to reply with some sarcastic retort. “You know, Swan, I was watching you out there before.”

“Stalker,” she quipped before thanking the bartender for the waters and paying him.

“I’ve never seen you look so sexy,” Killian commented when Emma turned her attention back to him, except he hadn’t noticed the song was ending, and there was a moment of silence in the club right as he spoke. His ears flashed bright red as he scratched at a spot behind his right ear. Being nearly the only male in the club, his comment was met with giggles from the female crowd, who had heard him clearly. The saving grace of his embarrassment was that Emma, gorgeously flushed from both her dancing and embarrassment, also laughed. Killian waited until the next song had started before getting the courage to talk again. “Come with me to Murdock’s party.”

“You just don’t know when to give up, huh?” She flashed him a grin as she made her way back to her friend in the crowd.

“Was that a yes?” He called after her.

“No,” she shouted in return.

“Was that a no?”

“No.”

Smiling to himself, he yelled to her once more, “I’ll pick you up at 9.”

Mary Margaret and Tamara had put on their party clothes and were close to the front door when Mr. Leo Blanchard called out from the couch, “should’ve used the window, girls.”

Tamara smacked Mary Margaret in the arm and muttered, “told you.”

Leo got up and confronted the girls. “And where are we going?”

“Well, if you must know, a small study group of friends.” Mary Margaret batted her eyelashes.

“Also known as a party?”

“Mr. Blanchard, it’s just a party. And I promise I’ll take care of Mary Margaret,” Tamara tried.

Leo called up the stairs, “Emma, did you know about some party tonight?”

“I don’t know,” Emma yelled from her room.

“That settles it. Emma isn’t going, you’re not going.”

“Emma!” Mary Margaret screeched up the stairs. “Emma, please! Just for one night, can’t you forget that you hate everyone and be my sister? Please? C’mon, Emma, please do this for me.”

Emma closed her book and sighed. Mary Margaret’s pleading was genuine enough. Grabbing her leather jacket, she headed downstairs. “Fine. I’ll make an appearance.”

Mary Margaret hugged Emma between high-pitched squeals of delight.

“Thank you, Emma. Thank you.”

Leo Blanchard just stood there in shock as Mary Margaret and Tamara ran out the door. Emma rolled her eyes and answered the door when someone knocked, expecting it to be one of her sister’s many suitors. She was taken aback when it was Killian Jones.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s 9, right?” He glanced at his watch - 8:47. “Oh, I’m early.”

Emma barely recalled his promise to pick her up at 9. She was surprised he actually kept his word.

“Alright. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave.” She grabbed his left hand, which she noticed did not feel like a flesh hand, and pulled him out the door. His breath hitched immediately and it was like he forgot how to walk. She tugged before letting go. “You coming?”

He shook himself out of it. “Yeah. Of course, Swan.”

The party was exactly how Emma imagined it would be: Drunk teenagers all dry humping each other and talking far too loudly. She and Killian wandered around, neither one really sure how to act at a party. Walking upstairs, Killian was stopped by Ashley, that girl from their English class.

Ashley threw herself at Killian, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him to her. “Kiss me!”

Killian looked around, spotting a guy sitting on a beanbag placed in the hallway. He directed Ashley to that guy, forcing her into his lap. “Kiss him.”

About to walk away, Killian was stopped by a hand on his jacket - the hand of the guy he forced Ashley onto. “Hey, man! Thanks!”

Killian nodded at him and went to try to find Emma. He spotted her in one of the guest rooms, where someone had stuck a keg. She was talking to Neal Gold.

“Hey, Swan Princess. Looking good!”

Emma glared at Neal, the last person she wanted to see that night. Already wanting to leave, she turned around to find Killian to let him know she was going home. As she started walking out of the room, Neal grabbed her waist and pulled her back to him.

“Where you going, Em?”

“Away.” Emma pulled his hand off her.

“Where’s your sister? She here?”

“Stay the hell away from my sister.”

Neal put his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine. I’ll stay away from Mary Margaret, but I can’t guarantee she’ll stay away from me.” He smirked.

Emma pushed through the crowd to leave the room. She wandered around for a while as she looked for Killian. Heading into the kitchen hoping that if Killian wasn’t in there, maybe she could at least find something halfway-decent to eat, she was met with her sister on one of Neal’s arms and Tamara on his other. Both girls were giddy.

“Em,” he screamed. “Look who found me!” He led the girls away from Emma, who lost them in the crowd. So much for protecting her sister from the biggest jerk in Maine. She was an awful sister.

“Hey, want one?” She whipped her head around to see some guy who she figured was in college. He held out a tray of shots.

Glancing around the room once more, she didn’t see Mary Margaret anymore, or Killian, so she shrugged and took a shot. She downed it right as Killian found her.

“Swan, what are you doing?” He looked panicked as he took the empty shot glass from her.

“Partying. Like a normal person. My sister would be so proud.”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Swan-” Killian was cut off as Emma spotted another tray of shots and wandered off in pursuit. Killian watched helplessly from the spot Emma just stood. “One of these days, I’m going to stop chasing this woman.” He headed after her, hoping she didn’t get too carried away.

“August, I just saw Mary Margaret.”

“Took you long enough to find her. Where is she now?”

“With Neal.” August froze, his cup of water not quite making it to his mouth.

“That wasn’t in the plan. Now what?”

David took a deep breath. “I - I don’t know. She was happy. She looked like she wanted to be here with him.”

“Go find her again. Make up a reason for her to spend time with you instead.” David nodded, sighing and turning to leave. He looked defeated. August patted David on the back as he watched his friend disappear into the crowd. “Good luck, my friend.”

Killian paced the entirety of the house twice before he found Emma, but too late. She was dancing on the coffee table in the living room, completely drunk.

“Swan, what do you say I have this shot?” He pried the glass from her hand as she continued to dance.

“No! It’s mine!” She tried her hardest to grab it back, but she was slow in her inebriated state.

“Hey, man!” Neal put an arm around Killian’s shoulders. Killian shuddered in return. “How did you do it?”

“What?”

“You managed to get her to act like a normal person!” Neal cheered as Emma kept dancing, taking off her jacket and swinging it around. Killian shook off Neal and moved closer to Emma as she made her way to the edge of the table. He was barely able to catch her as she fell off, but when he did, he carried her outside to keep her from drinking any more. He found a bench on the porch outside and put her down onto it.

“Are you alright?”

“Never better.” That was a lie. She couldn’t even sit up by herself. She leaned on Killian’s side and let her head dangle forward as she rested her eyes.

Killian rubbed her back and made sure she was comfortable. She dozed off on his shoulder. He sighed, rubbing his temples when he saw David storm out of the house.

“She wanted Neal this whole time!”

Killian helped lie Emma down onto the bench as he stepped aside to talk with David. “What’s up, mate?”

“I saw Mary Margaret and Tamara with Neal. I felt sorry for myself for a little, then went to find her again. The second time, she was so transfixed with him. I was a fool. It’s off, Killian. The whole thing’s off. Thanks for trying, but she never wanted me. She just wanted me to help her out so she could go out with him.”

Killian didn’t have time for this.

“Nolan, look. Do you like Mary Margaret?”

David sighed and softened. “Yeah.”

“And is she worth all the trouble?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know anymore. I thought so, but-”

Killian stared David down. “Look, mate. Either she is or she isn’t. First of all, Neal is not half the man you are. Secondly, don’t let anyone ever make you feel like you don’t deserve what you want, aye?”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

Emma stirred and tried to stand up from the bench on her own.

“I’m a tad busy here, Dave. Best of luck with Mary Margaret.” David nodded and took off back inside. Killian ran back to Emma just in time to catch her and get her to sit back down.

“Why are you taking care of me like this?” Emma babbled.

“It may surprise you, Swan, but I care for you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t really, though.”

“Of course I do.”

“Why?”

“If you weren’t around, I’d have to start taking out girls who actually like me.”

She snorted. “Like you could find one.”

“Ah, see that? Who needs affection when I have blind hatred?” They both laughed. “Can I ask you something now, Swan?” She didn’t answer. “Why do you let Neal get to you? I mean, he’s a wanker, but it’s like you take it personally.”

“I hate him.”

Killian opened his mouth to ask another question, but he was interrupted by Emma darting into a sitting position before puking onto the ground in front of the bench. He sighed yet again as he gathered her hair and held it back as she emptied her stomach.

“Hey, Mary Margaret, Neal’s holding an afterparty. You in?”

“I don’t know, Tam. I have a curfew. It’s my first night of freedom. I can’t take advantage like that.”

“Girls, you coming?” Neal waved from the door.

“Be right there,” Tamara called out to him in her flirtiest voice. He seemed impressed. Mary Margaret started to realize that maybe Neal wasn’t that into her. Maybe he just wanted any girl he could get his hands on.

“Last chance, Mary Margaret.”

With her recent realization, she actually didn’t want to go the party. “I think I’ll just find my sister and go home.”

“Alright. Your loss. Text you tomorrow.” Mary Margaret nodded to acknowledge her friend before sighing and looking around for Emma. It was looking like she needed a ride home. She found David instead.

“Hey. Have fun tonight?” He asked timidly.

“Look, David,” she started. She made eye contact as she asked, “do you think you could give me a ride home?”

Killian and Emma sat in his car. He was parked in front of her house, but she seemed hesitant to get out of the car.

“I should do this,” she giggles.

“Do what?”

She pointed at the car stereo.

“Install car stereos?” She laughed. He would think about that laugh for the rest of time.

“No. Start a band. Wouldn’t my dad just love that?” In that moment, she thought about her mom and how she loved to sing and play guitar - she was the reason Emma taught herself guitar.

“You don't strike me as the type to ask your father’s permission.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You really think you know me, huh?”

“I like to think I’m getting closer.”

“The only thing people know about me is that I’m a bitch.”

“Yeah, well, I’m no picnic myself.” Emma and Killian locked eyes as silence overtook the car. Killian was the one to break the moment. “So what's up with your dad? Is he a pain in the ass like everyone makes him seem?”

“Nah. He just wants me to be someone I’m not.”

“Who’s that?”

“Mary Margaret.”

“Well, no offense to your sister or anything, but she’s without.”

Emma stared at him. She’d always been the second-choice sister. “You’re really not as repulsive as I thought you were.” The two seemed to share a moment as Emma leaned in closer to Killian. His breath hitched, and it was then and the stench of beer and tequila that reminded him how drunk she was.

“Swan, maybe we should do this another time.”

Emma pulled back, hurt flashing in her eyes at the rejection. She wrestled to get the car door open, then slammed it before walking to her house, wiping tears along the way. Killian sighed as his head fell forward to rest on the steering wheel. He just hoped she’d understand when she sobered up.

Meanwhile, in David’s car, still at the party, he couldn’t find it in himself to turn the motor on just yet.

“You never wanted to go out with me, did you?”

“Well, I kinda did.”

“But I’m not Neal.”

“I don’t know. He’s just-”

“You don’t have to say any more.”

“I do like you, David.”

“Save it. just because you're beautiful, doesn't mean you can treat people like they don't matter. I mean, I really like you. I defended you when people called you conceited. I helped set Emma up so you could get out of the house. I learned French for you. And then you just blow me off for him.”

Mary Margaret answered by pulling him to her and kissing him. Cheering to himself, David knew he had won after all. She was absolutely worth the trouble.

Mr. Pendragon opened class as he always did on Mondays, asking about the students’ weekends.

“Why don’t you ask Emma?” Neal joked.

“Why do I feel like I don’t actually want to know what you all got up to?” He looked over at Emma, who was hiding her head in her arms on her desk. “All right. I definitely don’t. Let’s get started. Sonnets!”

The class groaned.

“I know, I know. Shakespeare and poetry - not everyone’s favorite things. But I want you all to write your own sonnets.”

Emma raised her hand. Mr. Pendragon prepared himself for the worst. “Does it have to be in iambic pentameter?”

Mr. Pendragon was stunned. “You don’t want to assert an opinion here?”

“I think this is a good assignment.”

“Are you messing with me?”

“No. I’m really looking forward to writing this.” He sized her up for a minute looking for a trace of a lie. Whatever happened last weekend must have really gotten to her.

“Alright, Ms. Swan. Thank you. And, no, it does not have to be written in iambic pentameter.”

Emma nodded and took note, specifically avoiding looking behind her at where Killian’s desk was.

Killian sat on the sideline bench alone as he watched Emma practice with her soccer team. He sighed, really wishing he could smoke a cigarette at that moment.

“Hey, man.” David sat next to Killian. “What’d you do to her?”

“Nothing. And if I had done anything, she would’ve been too drunk to remember.”

“But the plan was working.”

Killian took his eyes off Emma and looked at David. “Why do you even care? I thought the plan was off?”

“It was, but you gave me that pep talk and then,” he smiled.

“And then?”

“She kissed me.”

That got Killian to smile. At least someone got the girl. “Where?”

“In my car.”

Killian was going to press for more details, but August ran up to the bench. “So I talked to Emma.”

“And?” Killian looked up at August, hopeful.

“She really, really hates you right now.” Killian’s shoulders sagged with disappointment.

“Well,” David tried to find a positive in the situation but failed. “Maybe she just needs a day to cool off.”

All three guys ducked as a soccer ball came beaming at them at a speed that seemed like it could’ve cleanly knocked one of their heads off. They turned to the field to find Emma glaring at them. She was absolutely the one who kicked it. She was absolutely aiming for Killian.

David smiled sheepishly. “Maybe two days.”

Emma and Lily were headed outside to eat lunch when they came across a flier for prom. In anger, Emma yanked it from the wall.

“Can you imagine who would go to that antiquated mating ritual?”

Lily raised her hand. “I actually would, but I don’t have a date.”

Emma shot daggers at Lily with her eyes.

“Okay, okay. We won’t go. It’s not like I have a dress anyway.”

“Hey, Mary Margaret,” Neal came up to her.

She wasn’t really interested in talking to him. “Can I help you?” She focused on the field hockey ball she was dribbling between her stick.

“You’re concentrating awfully hard for gym class.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you about prom.”

“You know the deal.” She chased the ball after losing control of it. Stopping dribbling for a minute, she finally faced Neal. “I can’t go if Emma doesn’t.”

“You sister is going.”

She crossed her arms. “Since when?”

“Let’s just say I’m taking care of it.”

Mary Margaret smiled. Maybe she’d get to go to prom after all, but she definitely didn’t see herself there with Neal.

Neal held out two $100 bills to Killian. “This should take care of the flowers, the limo, the tux - everything. Just make sure she gets to the prom.”

“You know what? I’m out. I’m sick of playing your little game.” Killian’s eyes scanned the hallway. He just wanted to see Emma again.

“Are you still out if I raise it to $300?”

Killian knew he could use the money, but Emma wasn’t a business transaction for him. He took the money. He would use some of it for prom if things went well, but he was coming up with a plan for a way to use some of the rest of it.

The next day, Killian saw Emma’s car at a record store. He stopped in to see if she was still angry at him.

“Excuse me,” he tapped her on the shoulder. “Have you seen a copy of From Under The Cork Tree? I seem to have misplaced mine.”

She whipped around and crossed her arms. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for a Fall Out Boy album. I thought my inquiry made that clear.”

“You’re so-”

“Charming? Devilishly handsome?”

“Unwelcome.” She started to walk to a different section of the store. He followed.

“You’re not as mean as you think you are.”

“You’re not as badass as you think you are.”

“Someone still has her panties in a twist.”

She swung around. “Don't you, for one second, think that you had any effect on my panties.”

“Then what did I have an effect on?”

“Other than my upchuck reflex, nothing.” She continued browsing through records, then pulled one out. She pressed it to his chest before leaving. Killian had to set his plan in motion quickly. Before leaving himself, he looked at the record she found him: From Under the Cork Tree.

At soccer practice the next day, Emma was in the zone. Soccer was a great way for her to channel her anger at Killian. She was so focused on perfecting the team’s newest play, she hadn’t realized her teammates all stopped playing. Trapping the ball, she turned around to face the bleachers to see what all her teammates were staring at. She was greeted by Killian at the top of the bleachers, something in his hand. He ran down a few rows of seats so Emma could make him out better. It was a microphone.

Pulling the mic to his mouth, he sang, “you’re just too good to be true. Can’t take my eyes off of you. You'd be like heaven to touch. I want to hold you so much. At long last love has arrived, and I thank god I'm alive. You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off you.”

Emma found herself almost swooning. Her teammates looked at her for her reaction. She smiled, then jumped as there was a loud noise from behind her. She turned to see the marching band walking onto the field, playing along to the song Killian was singing.

She turned her attention back to Killian. “I love you, baby. And if it's quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely nights.”

The school police had gotten word of the disturbance and were running onto the bleachers to stop Killian. Taking a look at his pursuers, Killian wagged his eyebrows at Emma before running around the bleachers as he sang, dodging police officers and adding a strut or two as he sauntered around.

And he didn’t miss a note. “I love you, baby. Trust in me when I say, oh, pretty baby, don't bring me down, I pray. Oh, pretty baby, now that I've found you, stay and let me love you.”

He made his way down to the first row of seats, and Emma found herself walking over to him. She smiled and laughed as he sang the last line, staring into her eyes. “Baby, let me love you.”

Everyone who witnessed the song applauded and cheered when he finished, Emma included. Smiling back at her, Killian winked before being carried off by the police officers. Who knew Killian Jones would be one for grand romantic gestures?

Saturday detention was nothing new to Killian Jones. He had been sentenced to spend a few of his precious free days at school among his fellow delinquents before - sometimes for smoking, sometimes for ditching class or coming in late, et cetera, et cetera. But this Saturday, the prospect of spending his entire day trapped in an overheated classroom was more bothersome than usual, as he knew that Emma Swan was no longer angry with him. He wanted nothing more than to spend the day with her.

Resigning himself to twiddling his thumbs in detention all day, Killian sat back and tried to make himself comfortable. He stared at the ceiling for what must have been 20 minutes, avoiding getting on Coach Stark’s bad side - maybe he could get off early for good behavior?

Killian’s attention was pulled from the ceiling as the door to the classroom slammed closed. He sat up slowly before blinking his eyes rapidly to ensure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. Talking to Coach Stark at the front of the room was none other than Emma Swan. Killian immediately sat up straighter. Emma glanced at him from the corner of her eye, still talking to her soccer coach.

When Coach Stark bent down to get a pad of paper and pen from his desk, Emma mouthed to Killian, “the windows,” as she pointed to said windows. He nodded and got in position to move from his desk while not arousing suspicion from the coach. With the in-charge adult’s attention on Emma, Killian tiptoed in the aisle between the desks to the row of windows lining the left wall of the classroom.

“So I think we really need to work more on our defense for the game against the Racoons,” Killian caught a bit of Emma’s conversation as he worked to silently open a window wide enough for him to squeeze through. Emma watched him worriedly with quick glances over to him. “Ruby is a great goalie, but the team needs to have her back when she’s down after blocking a shot.”

Killian cursed to himself when his jacket zipper got caught on the window. His eyes flashed to Emma’s. She put her hands on Coach Stark to keep him facing her. “I mean, if she’s down, I just think someone needs to step into the goal and cover for her.”

“Emma, why don’t we talk about this more at practice next week.” He turned to sit back at his desk, but a quick look at Killian showed Emma he was only half out of the window.

Acting impulsively and without any real thought, she eyed the corner of the teacher’s desk and walked forward as if to keep talking to the coach as he sat down. With a precisely placed foot, Emma tripped over the desk leg and fell straight to the floor. Her fall was met with a stinging in her left wrist, but as she looked to the window, Killian was nowhere in sight. Sighing in relief, she cradled her wrist with her other hand as Coach Stark bent down next to her to tend to her. She definitely injured her wrist, but if Killian got away unnoticed, it would be worth it.

Feeling the concrete under his feet, Killian was so thankful the detention room was on the first floor. He looked into the room to see Emma and figure out how she managed to get him out unseen, but she was nowhere in sight. Disappointed over not being able to see her and properly thank her, he started making his way to his car.

Halfway across the parking lot, he spun around at the sound of his name.

“Killian! Killian, wait up!” Emma was waving and running to where he stood.

“Swan,” he grinned as she caught up to him. “Thanks for springing me from detention.”

“Yeah, well, if I hadn’t been so pissed that you wouldn’t take advantage of me in your car, you never would’ve ended up there.”

“I don’t regret it, you know.”

Emma’s eyes flashed downward as she blushed just enough for Killian to notice.

“Hey, Swan, what are you doing now?”

“Heading home to read, I guess. Or I have some homework I could do.” Truth was she was going to go home to ice her wrist; it was hurting like crazy.

He really hoped the interest he saw in her eyes was really there. “Come on, Swan.” He walked to the passenger side of his car and opened the door. “In the car.”

“What? That’s really creepy, Jones.”

“And here I thought you weren’t afraid of me,” he joked.

Emma stuck her tongue out at him as she got into the car. The wrist probably wasn’t broken. It could wait. Once he got settled into his seat, Emma asked, “so what’s going on here?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m taking you-” he booped her nose “-on a date.”

Killian took Emma to a harbor. Emma hissed when Killian took her left hand upon her getting out of the car, but she didn’t see any sign he noticed. He led her to a corner of the harbor where people were going out onto the water in little swan boats.

“The swans made me think of you, and I thought it might be fun.” He let go of her hand and scratched behind his ear. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just-”

Emma was a tad worried they wouldn’t be able to steer themselves and that they’d be stranded in the harbor, but she couldn’t chicken out when little kids were doing it. “It looks like fun. Let’s do it.”

He put a hand on her back as they walked to the man running the swan boat rentals. The boats were much bigger than Emma expected, and they were steered with two sets of pedals - one set for each of them. Killian helped her into the boat, then followed, impressively steady on his own. When they were in safely, they both found their pedals and took off. Emma was surprised how smoothly the boat moved through the water.

“We’re out far enough. Let’s just drift for a little.” She took her feet off the pedals and looked around. She felt so peaceful out there. The only thing keeping her grounded in reality was the stinging from her wrist. “You know, Swan, I thought, for sure, I was busted when I was halfway out the window. How did you keep the coach distracted?”

Not wanting to admit that she tripped on purpose to distract the teacher but accidentally injured herself, plus the fact that he’d make her go home if he knew she was in pain, she just shrugged, a smirk on her face.

Killian got the hint that she wouldn’t tell him. “So what’s your excuse then?”

“For what?”

“Acting the way we do.”

“I don't like to do what people expect. Why should I live up to other people’s expectations instead of my own?”

He was smart enough to know there was a reason for this, but he didn’t push for the backstory. “So you disappoint them from the start and then you're covered, right?

“Something like that.”

“Then you screwed up.”

Emma never would have expected him to say something like that. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve yet to disappoint me.”

Emma didn’t know what to say, so she just stared, wide-eyed.

After the silence went on long enough, Killian broke it. “So I think we should head back to shore soon. We have another destination or two.”

“Where are we going?” She had softened considerably, and she barely recognized her voice so soft.

“Try something new, darling. It’s called trust.”

After a gourmet grilled cheese lunch - he told her she went on and on about grilled cheese while she was drunk at the party - he drove them to a paintball arena. Putting the car in park, he looked at Emma. “Are you up for it?”

Emma was so excited, she momentarily forgot about the pain in her wrist. She should’ve figured he wouldn’t be into any of the usual boring date stuff; he’s never been boring.

So she played paintball and absolutely painted Killian multiple different neon colors. And then they made out behind a makeshift shield until their game was over and they had to leave. Emma’s wrist was throbbing by the time she got back to the school parking lot, but she’d never laughed that much ever in her life. She didn’t even care that it was going to take four showers to get the neon pinks and greens from her hair. Emma Swan was happy, and it was because of Killian Jones.

Back in the school parking lot, they sat on a curb drinking milkshakes and talking.

“Can I ask you something?”

“How I’m so devilishly handsome? I’m afraid that’s a secret I can’t share.”

Emma rolled her eyes. Killian nodded for her to ask her real question. “What’s with the accent? I mean, you know how it is with people who act like us. The rumors are, frankly, ridiculous.”

“I was born in England. Lived there most of my life, until my mum got sick, my father abandoned me, and my brother died in the Navy. And there was the accident that gave me this,” he held up his left hand, which was a prosthetic. Emma had, of course, noticed before, but she had never given it thought.

“I’m sorry, Killian. None of those are rumors going around school. I never expected-”

“It’s okay, Swan. I moved here after all that. I didn’t want to be surrounded by those memories any longer.” She stared into his crystal clear blue eyes as he divulged his tragic past to her. “Became emancipated early on, so I live alone now. I have to support myself, but it’s better than being forced to face my father back in England, which is what I was supposed to do when Liam died.”

“Liam - your brother?”

“Aye.”

Emma felt like she really understood why he acted the way he did - it was much the same as the reasons she acted the way she did. They were kindred spirits.

“Enough of that for one date. It’s going to ruin the mood.”

“There’s a mood?”

“Well, I was hoping there was because I have something to ask you.” She waited for him to continue. “Will you go to prom with me?”

“Killian, I- no.”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “No?”

“No.”

“Can I ask why not?” She tried not to feel awful at his high-pitched, shaky voice.

“Because I don’t want to. It’s a stupid tradition.”

“People don’t expect you to go. You love surprising people.”

“Killian, I said no. Why are you pushing this?”

He broke eye contact. “Nothing, love. I just wanted to go to prom with the girl I fancy,” he huffed.

Emma sensed something was off. “What’s in it for you?”

“So now I need a motive to want to be with you?”

“You tell me.”

“Emma!” He threw his hands up.

“Answer the question, Killian.”

“Nothing.” He stood up in anger and headed back to his own car. “Nothing is in it for me. I just wanted to take you and give you a great night.” He stopped, turning around to face Emma again. “I know love has been all too rare in your life. It would do you good to not push it away when you have it.” Turning back around, he got into his car and slammed the door before driving away in anger. That certainly hurt worse than her wrist did.

Emma and Lily were at their lockers packing their backpacks before they headed home. Lily opened her locker to find a gorgeous dress with a note attached.

“Emma,” she smiled, “I have a secret admirer! He asked me to prom!” She held the dress up to herself and grinned even harder.

Emma wanted to be happy for her friend, she really did, but she wasn’t feeling it. So she forced a smile onto her face and told her friend to have fun at the dance before shutting her locker and heading home.

“Come in,” Emma muttered to whoever was knocking on her door. She was lying in bed staring at the ceiling. Her TV was on, but she hadn’t been watching it for hours.

Mary Margaret didn’t enter the room, just poked her head into the door. “Just so you know, you’re not the only girl not going to prom. Dad said I can’t go because you aren’t. So, you know, if you want to stop hating yourself and do something, I’ll be around.”

Emma sat up. “Mary Margaret, wait.” Her sister walked in the room and sat on the corner of Emma’s bed. “I know you don’t like being stuck here just because I’m not dating, but don’t think I don’t care. I do care about your feelings, but I’m also big on doing something for your own reasons, and not someone else's.”

“But that’s selfish, Emma.”

“It’s protection.” She could see the questions in her sister’s brain. Emma decided she needed to tell Mary Margaret something she’d been avoiding for three years. “I guess Neal never mentioned that we went out, huh?”

Mary Margaret’s eyes widened.

“When we were freshmen, we went out for a month.”

“You hate Neal,” Mary Margaret pointed out.

“Now,” Emma corrected.

“Well, what happened?” Mary Margaret crawled closer to Emma.

“We - well, we - you know.”

Mary Margaret seemed to stop breathing. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I really wish I could.” Emma bit her lip before continuing. “It was only once. Mom had just died, and I didn’t know how to process anything. He kept pressing the issue, so I gave in and did it. Once it happened, things became - I don’t know - clearer somehow. I told him that was it; I didn’t want to do it again. He got mad and dumped me.” Taking a breath, Emma kept talking. “After that, I swore I’d never do anything when I didn’t want to just because someone else did.”

“Why hasn’t he said anything? That doesn’t make sense.”

“I threatened him - told him if he ever told anyone, then I’d tell people how bad he was at it.”

“But you didn’t tell me either, Emma.”

“I wanted you to make your own mistakes, I guess.”

Mary Margaret seemed to understand to an extent, but a part of her was clearly still mad at everything she’d missed out on. “You helped Dad keep me hostage!”

“I’m sorry. Not all experiences are good ones, Mary Margaret!”

“I guess I’ll never know.” With that, she stood up and went to her own room.

Emma sighed and fell back on her pillows. Welp, she was going to prom after all.

“Well, no one will expect this,” Emma mumbled as she stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She was wearing a pale pink dress - it wasn’t a floor-length dress, but Emma in a dress was still something.

Emma grabbed a jacket and ran down the stairs as quickly as she could in heels. “Bye, Dad. I’m going to prom.”

Leo Blanchard didn’t even look up away from the television set. “Funny, sweetie.”

Emma kept walking, not wanting to draw attention to herself. Leo only looked up when he heard the front door shut behind her. Getting up and going to investigate, Leo found his youngest daughter coming down the stairs in a floor-length gown.

“What’s going on, honey?”

“Prom,” she answered perkily.

“Yeah, that seems to be the word of the night.” He paused to think for a moment. “So Emma-”

“Went to prom. For me, Daddy. So now I can go.” As if on cue, there was a knock on the front door, which Mary Margaret answered.

David Nolan stood on the other side of the door, jaw dropping to the ground. “Hi.”

“Hi, David.” She took a step out of the house and linked arms with him before addressing her father. “Remember how you said I could date if Emma dated? Well, she found this guy who’s actually perfect for her, which is actually kind of perfect for me, because David asked me to go to the prom, and I really, really, really want to go. And since Emma went, I guess I’m allowed to.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” David extended a hand out to Leo, who shook it.

“I know every cop in town, young man,” Leo stared down David.

“Noted.”

“Okay, David. Let’s go.” Mary Margaret pulled David to his car, waving goodbye to her father on the way.

Wandering around the ballroom hallway aimlessly, Emma came face-to-face with Killian, dressed in an all-black tux.

“Wow, Swan. You look stunning.”

“And you look-”

“I know.” He smirked, and she laughed.

“Where did you get a tux?”

“Just something I had lying around.”

“Oh?”

“Where’d you get the dress?”

Emma grinned. “Just something I had lying around.”

“I wasn’t sure how this was supposed to work, but” he pulled his hand from behind his back, and in it was a single red rose.

“Thanks.” She took it, still smiling. “So, look; I’m really sorry I questioned your motives. I was wrong.”

“All forgiven.”

“So, are you ready to do this thing?”

Meanwhile, back at the Blanchard household, Leo was interrupted from his favorite show yet again when the doorbell rang. He opened it to find Neal Gold standing on the other side.

“Hello, Mr. Blanchard. I’m Neal. I’m here to pick up Mary Margaret.”

Leo narrowed his eyes before telling him, “she’s not here,” and slamming the door in his face.

Back at prom, Emma and Killian walked into the ballroom hand-in-hand. Emma immediately spotted Mary Margaret dancing with her date. Mary Margaret noticed Emma, too, mouthing a “thank you” and smiling at Emma and Killian’s entwined hands.

“Have you seen him, Emma?” Emma spun around on the spot to find Lily looking frantic.

“Who?”

“My secret admirer! He said he’d be here, and he’s supposed to have a purple bowtie.”

“Lily, I don’t know how to tell you this, but-”

“Lass,” Killian tapped Lily on the shoulder and pointed toward the front of the room, right in front of the stage.

Lily ran over to her secret admirer, none other than August Booth, who greeted her with a kiss on the hand.

Turning her attention back to her date, Emma tucked the rose into Killian’s jacket pocket.

“So do we dance?”

“Yes, but wait thirty seconds.”

“What?” Emma furrowed her eyebrows. “Why do we have to wait?”

“Song’s ending.”

They both clapped as the band finished a song. The next song started playing, but the band’s lead singer wasn’t singing. Emma recognized that voice.

“No way!”

Killian was grinning ear-to-ear.

“It’s Avril!”

“I called in a favor.”

“You did this?” He shrugged, ears tinged red. She stepped up onto her toes and kissed him.

By the time they pulled away, the song was a quarter over. When they finally parted, Killian held out his hand. “Can I have this dance?”

“Of course.”

Freshening up in the bathroom, Mary Margaret was joined at the sink by Tamara.

“I just thought you should know that Neal’s here with me tonight.”

Mary Margaret froze. “Well, he’s all yours, Tam.”

“How generous, Princess.” Tamara checked her makeup and smirked as she turned to face Mary Margaret. “And just so you know, Neal only liked you for one reason. He had a bet going with his friends. He just wanted to get in your pants tonight.”

Mary Margaret dropped her phone into the sink as she stared at Tamara, who strutted out of the bathroom.

Back on the dance floor, Emma and Killian continued to dance.

“How are you so good at this? I usually have two left feet when I dance.”

“You’re a soccer player.”

“I can play soccer. I can’t dance.”

Killian pressed a kiss to Emma’s cheek and pulled her impossibly closer.

“Lucky for you, there’s only one rule for dancing: Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

Emma threw her head back with laughter as Killian’s eyebrows jumped.

Unfortunately, their dance was interrupted by Neal, who grabbed Killian’s shoulder and pulled him aside.

“What the hell is Mary Margaret doing here with that asshat? I didn’t pay you to take out Emma so that some little punk could steal Mary Margaret from under me!”

Emma actually gasped out loud at the revelation. The hurt flashed over her. She confronted Killian. “Nothing in it for you? Yeah, right.” Emma ran from the ballroom, tears already falling. Killian followed.

“Emma, please let me explain.”

Emma turned to him, not caring how she looked mid-crying fit. “You were paid to take me out by the one person I truly hate. I knew it.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Really? What was it like - a down payment now and then a bonus for sleeping with me?”

“No. No, I didn’t care about the money, okay? I cared-” he sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I cared about you.”

She stared him down for a minute, neither of them talking. She shook her head. “You are so not who I thought you were.”

Neal went straight up to David, flaring with anger, and punched him in the nose. David fell to the ground.

“Oh, come on. Get up, you wuss.”

Neal turned around to leave, just in time to be socked in the jaw by Mary Margaret.

“What the hell, Mary Margaret! I have a modeling gig tomorrow!”

“That’s for making my date bleed.” She punched him in the nose. “That’s for my sister.” She kneed him in a particularly sensitive male area. “And that’s for me.”

Watching Neal rolling on the ground, Mary Margaret helped David up, asking him, “are you okay?”

Despite the blood flowing from his nose, he grinned, answering honestly, “never better.”

Emma was listening to music in her room when Mary Margaret walked in with a mug.

“Hot chocolate and cinnamon.”

Emma took the mug. “Thanks.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to lunch with David and me?”

“I’m sure.”

“It’ll be fun,” she gently nudged Emma with her elbow.

“It’s fine, Mary Margaret. I promise.”

“I’m sorry I dragged you to prom. And everything with Killian. You’re miserable because of me.”

Emma took both of her earbuds out. “It’s not because of you. It’s because of Killian and Neal. And I’m glad I went. Now I know.”

“Well, I really appreciate that you went last night. It means a lot to me.”

“I’m glad you had a good night.”

The girls were interrupted by a knock on the front door. “That’s probably David.”

“Go, Mary Margaret. Have fun, okay?”

Mary Margaret nodded as she slowly left Emma’s room.

Emma’s next guest was her father, who came in basically as soon as her sister left.

“So tell me about the prom. You seemed pretty upset when you came home.”

“It wasn’t all bad, I guess. Parts of it were fun.”

Leo made himself comfortable on the bean bag chair on Emma’s floor. “Which parts?”

“The part where Mary Margaret beat the crap out of this guy.”

“Mary Margaret did what?”

“Are you upset I rubbed off on her?”

“No. Impressed, actually.”

Emma was thrown off by her father’s approval.

“You know, when you moved in with us, Emma, your walls were up pretty high. Over the years, you let them down and opened up to us. Then your mother died, and you closed yourself off again. You haven’t been the same since the accident. But these last few weeks, you’ve been almost happy.” Emma took a sip of her cocoa. “You don’t tell me much these days, but whatever was going on, I liked seeing you smile again.”

“I’m sorry, Dad. It’s just - everyone I’ve ever loved left me. I was abandoned as a baby, the one family I felt a part of before yours gave me back, and then Mom died. I just didn’t want to feel like that again. But now-” Emma sighed.

“Emma,” Leo started, “why do you think I refused to let your sister date? I wanted to protect her from that. You know, I still don’t know how to deal with it sometimes.”

Emma looked at her father, feeling an understanding for the first time in years.

“But I promise, Emma, your sister and I aren’t going anywhere.”

“You can’t guarantee that.” Emma wiped a tear falling down her cheek.

“I know. But-”

“I know.” Emma smiled at her father before putting her mug down and hugging him. “I’m sorry about the last three years.”

“Oh, Emma. No. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Leo stood up to leave, things cleared up between them for the first time in years. “Whatever has you feeling down again, I hope it gets worked out.”

“Me too.”

“I assume everyone has found the time to complete their sonnets,” Mr. Pendragon opened class. “Anyone brave enough to read theirs aloud?”

Every student in the room tried to avoid eye contact with Mr. Pendragon so they wouldn’t be called on.

“Anyone?”

Emma slowly raised her hand. “I’ll do it.”

Killian’s head jerked up, and Mr. Pendragon expected the worst.

Emma grabbed her notebook and went to the front of the room. Opening it to her bookmarked page, she started reading, keeping her voice as monotone as her emotion would allow.

“I hate the way you talk like that and the way your hair stands up. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb jacket and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick. It even makes me rhyme.” Emma paused, then continued, slowly feeling the emotions bubbling over. She took a deep breath. “I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry.” Emma wiped her eyes and continued, crying in front of the whole class. “I hate it when you're not around and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly, I hate the way I don't hate you - not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.” Fully crying and not able to cope, Emma clutched the notebook to her chest and took off out the classroom, not risking a look at Killian.

After school that day, Emma walked to her car, more than ready to go home after the day she had. She opened the door of her car to put her backpack on the seat, and she was met with a brand-new guitar. She threw her backpack into the backseat and pulled the guitar out.

“No way!”

“Nice, huh?” Emma swung around to see Killian smirking behind her.

“Yeah! Is this- is this for me?”

“Aye. I thought you could use it, you know, when you start your band. I also may have talked to your sister. She said your mum used to play.” He talked to her sister for her?! Emma wasn’t sure what was more shocking - the fact that he spoke to her sister for intel or that her sister kept the whole thing a secret. “Besides, I had some extra cash. You know, some asshole paid me to take out a really great girl.” He closed her car door and leaned back against it.

Emma couldn’t quite keep from smiling. “Is that right?”

“Yeah,” he scratched the spot behind his ear. “But I screwed up. I - well, I fell for her.”

Both of them blushed at the confession.

“Really?”

“Don’t you know, Emma? It’s always been you.” She balanced the guitar against the side of her car before grabbing the lapels of his leather jacket and pulling him to her, kissing him hard.

He pulled away but kept his face within mere inches of hers. “It’s not every day you find a girl who will sprain her wrist to get you out of detention.”

“Oh, god. You were never supposed to know about that.” She laughed anyway. He peppered her face with kisses - her cheek, her chin, her jaw, her nose. She pushed his head away when he got back to her lips. “You can’t just buy me a guitar every time you screw up, you know?”

“I know. But there’s always drums and bass, and maybe even one day a tambourine.” He kissed her as her grin grew.

She broke the kiss apart again. “And don’t just think you can-”

He shut her up with a kiss. And this time, neither one pulled away.

#captain swan secret santa #captain swan secret santa 2018 #csss 2018 #csss #downeystarkjr #so sorry #i hope you like it #10 things i hate about you

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shestillhasherquill · 6 years ago

Text

At the Heart of Darkness (1/11)

Hoorayy! It's time for my Captain Swan Big Bang fic's grand reveal. I am soooo excited for every one to read this. But before that, I would be remiss if I do not thank the Mods for organising this event. Go check out the other great fics and artwork on their tumblr: @captainswanbigbang They were so understanding when I had to miss a check-in and gave me an extension. I never thought I'd finish this story after I lost my dad, because there is A LOT of Father-Daughter content in this, but I pushed through because I wanted to get this fic out there. I love the idea, and I know it might not appeal to some people, what with Alice in the fic. To those people, I say: 'I respect your likes and dislikes. If you don't like it, you don't have to read it. Respect that I do, and I don't want negative comments or drama. Thank you.'

I can't thank Maggie aka @accio-ambition enough. She was more than my Beta, she was my bae-ta. She pushed me and yelled at me and got stressed out for me, while I chilled out. She has made me question myself and correct myself and been the best GD cheerleader in the world. I LOVE YOU, MAN. Most of the fic was panic written and if it weren't for @accio-ambition and @sambethe this would be a mess.

A HUGE SHOUTOUT to @sambethe for being a second beta practically, on top of being my artist, who made a KICKASS BANNER and a bunch of art that I CANNOT wait for you all to see. She's just the best, most understanding and kind-of always put up with my anxiety rants. Thanks, babe. Check out her original artwork post!

ALSO @downeystarkjr made 2 VIDEOS OF THIS FIC WHAT I'm crying you guys. They are amazing, she's amazing and just asdfghjkl; time for fic guys.

Summary: Killian Jones lives in the Land without Magic, with no memories of his family. Until Emma Swan comes into his life like a whirlwind, reminding about everything he had lost. He embarks on an adventure to destroy the Darkness, only to discover that Emma might not be telling him the whole story.

Rating: M

Content Warning: Mentions of Miscarriage, Angst, Gothel

AO3/FF.net

Prologue

“Papa, are you listening to me?”

“Of course, starfish. When am I not?” Killian answered, turning from the book he was reading and toward his daughter. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her dangling from a wooden beam by just her fingertips. “Alice Jones, get down this instant.”

“Will you catch me, Papa?” she called out, giggling. Suddenly everything around them turned dark, and Killian could hardly see. His panic rose, as he called out to his daughter. “Alice? Alice, answer me, love!”

“Papa, catch me. Catch me, Papa.” That was all he heard, echoing around him. “Don’t let me fall, Papa. Don’t leave me!” Alice’s voice grew from playful to frightful, the echoes growing fainter and fainter by the minute. Killian tried walking through the darkness, but it seemed Alice was moving farther away from him in the endless night. He was surrounded by it, like he was lost at sea.

A moment later, he could not hear her voice at all. “Alice? Alice! Where are you, darling? ALICE!” he shouted, his voice breaking.

Killian gasped awake, eyes shooting wide and hands grabbing tight on his sheets. It was that dream again, about the girl - Alice. Papa, she called him, but he did not have a daughter that he knew of. He had been having these dreams for years, and they never made any sense. He always woke up filled with an inexplicable desperation, like he needed to get back to that strange girl.

Every doctor he had been to had said the same thing - they were just dreams. How else could he explain the strange surroundings he found himself in during these dreams. Most times it was with this young girl, Alice, in some kind of a room, high up in a tower. Sometimes, there was another blonde woman, but he has never seen her face. He could not pick her out of a line-up if he had to, in all honesty. But unlike the dreams with the girl, whenever he dreamed of that woman, he woke up crying and his chest hurting.

There were days that he cursed these dreams - they remind him just how truly alone he was in this world. He had a brother once, who he served with in the Navy, but that seemed like it was centuries ago. He did not have a daughter, nor did he know blonde woman like the one plaguing his dreams. He had no one. Why would his mind taunt him so? Show him this life, in this strange land - when all he had was a 20-year sober chip and a job that doesn’t necessarily require him to stay in one place. He’d been searching, going from city to city, town to town, looking for a place to call home.

He’d been in this seaside town for the past two months, and as much as he enjoyed how quaint it was, it just didn’t feel right. Not that he could tell anyone what was - all he knew was he would feel it the moment it was right - he would have found home. Whatever this town was, it was not that.

Killian sighed, trying to put the dream out of his mind, slipping out of bed, grabbing his phone on the way. He punched in his agent’s number, putting him on speaker as he went about starting his morning brew.

“Hello, Jones. Which part of the world are you calling from now?” came Will’s voice, an undertone of exasperation barely concealed.

“I’m still in England, Will,” Killian replied, rolling his eyes. “No need to be an arse so early in the morning.” He turned on the coffee maker, grabbing his phone off the countertop. “Did you get the new chapters I sent you a couple of days ago?”

“Ah, that. Yes, I did. Great work, man. They are great, just a few notes from your editor. I’m sending you an e-mail about it as we speak. But we are quite ahead of schedule so far.”

“Good, good,” Killian mumbled. “I might be leaving this town soon. It doesn’t seem right.”

“Colour me surprised. What is right, Jones? You’ve been travelling like a fucking hermit.” Will’s tone was starting to grate on Killian’s nerves.

“I don’t appreciate your tone, Sanders.” Killian scowled at the wall. He did not need yet another person questioning his decisions - he was doing enough of that himself.

There was a tense silence over the phone before Will finally spoke. “All right. I don’t have any rights to question how you live your life. Just remember that once you’re done with this book, you need to do at least some touring and book signings.”

Killian resisted the urge to groan. As much as he enjoyed the life of leisure being a published author offered, the public appearances and PR were his least favorite part of his job.

“Yes, I remember. There’s still time for that, is there not? I’ll be back stateside in three months.”

“For good? Or just for the book?”

“Well, it’s not to see your ugly mug, mate. I’ll talk to you soon, Will.” And with that dismissal, he hung up. He fixed himself a cup of coffee, carrying it over to his designated work station. He passed a mirror on the way, pausing to stare at his reflection. He stared at it long and hard, trying to find any change in it, but he didn’t. Not one grey hair, not one wrinkle. The same face he has been staring at for the past 20 years - nothing has changed. He realised this little fact about himself a few years ago. He has not aged a day in 20 years. He does not remember what triggered it - he does not remember much, if he was brave enough to admit it. His memory of the past 20 years are pristine, he could remember every single detail. But before that? It was all a blur, like a dream. One could only laugh at that irony: somehow his dreams seem more real than his past.

He shook his head, walking away from the mirror and sitting at his desk. Taking a long sip from his mug, he pulled his sketchpad towards him, grabbing a spare bit of charcoal and scratching out a rough portrait of the girl from his dreams, etching her image on paper, hoping to trigger something that would make him understand why he kept seeing her, why she called him ‘Papa’. And who the mysterious blonde was.

-/-

20 years ago : Enchanted Forest

Killian was woken from his slumber by soft murmuring around him. “Swan, settle down and go back to sleep, love,” he grumbled, reaching for his lady-love with an outstretched arm. They were finally able to convince Alice to stay the night with Smee while they stole a night to themselves.

When his arm met the sheets covering their bed at the inn where they’d spent the night, instead of Emma’s soft skin, his eyes flew open. He scrambled out of bed, reaching for his trousers when he heard her laughter. He turned around, pants hanging loosely around his hips, unlaced and held up with just his hand. There she sat, in one corner of the room, wearing his shirt - and naught else - a book in her hand. “You’re- you’re reading?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Hook. I was brought up a princess, you know,” she teased, sliding out of her perch, the book landing on the floor with a thud.

He grabbed her when she was within arms’ reach, hand curling on her hip, lips grazing hers gently. “Aye, I know, Princess.” He pulled back before she could deepen their kiss. “I am a little hurt that you chose to read a book, when you could have woken me up. We could have engaged in more, ah..enjoyable activities.” When he noticed her hesitation, he felt his insecurities flare up - it had been a while since he’d been with a woman. In fact, that wretched witch was the last person he had been intimate with. He backed away a little from Emma, his arms dropping to his side. “Unless, of course it wasn’t enjoyable for you, love. I- it has been a while.”

“Oh, no, no. Killian, no,” Emma was quick to assure him, her hand coming up to rest on his chest, right over his heart. “No, last night was perfect. You were perfect, I promise.” Her cheeks tinted lightly at the boyish grin that took over his face. She turned back to grab the large tome before she faced him again. “I was reading this - a grimoire. I wanted to see if I could find some way to break Alice out of that tower. I’ve been doing my own research, but I did not want to tell you and Alice before I found something concrete. I couldn’t do that to you.”

Killian felt his throat close up, his heart clenching at her gesture. He had always known that Emma cared for his Alice almost as much as he did - it was because of his love for Alice that it took him almost a year to warm up to Emma’s presence in their lives. But knowing something and seeing proof of it were two very different things.

“I- I couldn’t give up. I know I promised I would be more careful with my magic, but I just...,” Emma shrugged, trialing off, having mistook his silence for anger.

He was quick to reassure her, pulling her into his arms in a tight embrace. “Thank you, Emma. I do not know what Alice and I would do without you in our lives,” he whispered, his voice breaking at the end.

He felt Emma’s smile against his chest, her arms clenched tight around the book. “You never have to find out.”

-/-

Present : Land without Magic

There were so many things Killian was grateful for, but the internet had to be the most important. It was much easier to find a great place to stay, that still afforded him the solitude that he craved, thanks to the wonder of AirBnB. He rubbed his hands together, warming them up as he walked down the small hill his lone house was on, his reusable shopping bag and notebook keeping him company. As much as he has moved around, he was still a creature of habit. He had made himself the same dinner every Saturday - a pot of hot stew and some marmalade sandwiches for a light snack later. And every Friday, like today, he would walk into town, hit up the local markets and do a spot of shopping. Then, he would spend the day people watching, sitting at the benches in the city center. He would describe everything he saw around him - from the changing weather, to the street musicians playing their tune. The sight of the fresh fruits and vegetables at the market; the ruckus created by students who had survived yet another week. All of it, he would note down - he would build his own stories, even.

He might fool everyone, sometimes even himself, into thinking all of this was for research. But he had been doing this for as long as he could remember, as if he was writing things for someone stuck in a prison, hoping that his writing would provide them with some semblance of the world outside. He couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t done this - but he had no one to share these stories with. So even as he filled notebook after notebook, each of various shape and size, some leather bound with parchment paper, some of them scraps of napkins bound together - even as he recorded everything, the only purpose it served was collecting dust at the house he had in Atlanta - the one and only residence he has had throughout his adult life. The same one he had bought twenty years ago, a quaint blue house with a wraparound porch and a white picket fence, waiting for the day it will be called ‘home’.

And so like clockwork, Killian sat at his usual bench, his view of the town unencumbered from this point, and observed the ongoings. Somehow, this time, his heart was not in it. His dreams had become more frequent recently, and he was loathe to go back on the pills he had been prescribed. They stopped the dreams completely, but that made him feel even worse, even more alone. As much as the dreams - and their characters - haunted him, their absence made it harder for him to survive his lonely existence.

Will had told him over the years that if only he would put himself out there, if only he would come out of his shell and interact, even if it was to simply make a friend, he would feel much better. But he never felt inclined to; he felt like he was supposed to be miserable. He was used to this feeling, and somehow, letting go of it seems unfathomable.

He snapped himself from where his thoughts drifted to, his gaze refocusing on what was in front of him. And the moment his vision became clear, the first thing he saw was the same head of blonde hair from his dreams, disappearing around the corner. He blinked, his breath caught in his throat. He stood immediately, squinting at the lane where he caught the glimpse of the blonde - hair the exact shade of spun gold as from his dreams. His bag and notebook forgotten, he took off in her direction.

For so long, he had been struggling with thoughts that maybe his dreams were more than just that, but had dismissed the thoughts almost as quickly as they had come. But something in his heart told him to follow the blonde, that maybe she might help - whether it was to break the illusion or to strengthen it, he wasn’t sure yet. He wasn’t sure what he wanted the outcome to be either.

He went around the corner he had seen her turn, which led him down a tiny alley. The only place that seemed to be open was an antiquities shop, with a single flickering light on at the display window. Alice and her ‘round the world Wonders, the sign read.

“Alice…” he whispered softly to himself, his incredulity evident. “It can’t be.” He pushed through the door, the bell above the door ringing through the empty shop.

“Hello?” he called out, suddenly feeling a little breathless, as if in anticipation. He waited with bated breath, but no one turned up for a whole two minutes. Just as he was about to call out again, someone pushed past the curtains, stepping through.

Killian felt disappointment settle in his chest when he saw the woman who walked into the room. She was definitely blonde, but she was not the woman from his dreams, of that he was certain. All the built up anticipation of the past few minutes drained out of him. He simple stared at her unable to do much more than force a smile in return to her smiling at him. He was certain the woman he’d seen turn down the alley had been her, but it was not the woman from the shop.

She was dressed plain enough, but her heavy array of braids gave her an air of eccentricity; and as friendly and welcoming as she seemed to think her smile was, it made the hair on the back of Killian’s neck stand up.

“Can I help you?” she asked him, approaching the counter.

As much as he wanted to bolt from this shop, and from this woman, he had a feeling she might have some answers for him. “Erm, no. I was simply looking around,” he replied after a long pause. He turned around, pretending to be interested in an old windmill, running his finger over the blades. “Curious name your shop’s got,” he commented. “Alice… is that you?” he asked, smiling and hoping that she wouldn’t suspect anything, before turning away.

He noticed her stiffen out of the corner of his eye, before she cleared her throat and plastered a smile back on her face. “Ah, no. I knew an Alice, a very long time ago. The name just felt fitting.” She waited a beat before adding, “I’m Eloise. And you’re Killian Jones.”

Hackles raised, he turned to face her again, his jaw clenching involuntarily. “How do you know my name?”

He could have sworn he saw her smirk, but he blinked and it was gone, replaced by a sheepish smile. “I’m a huge fan of your books - the life of a pirate captain and all that.”

Killian was not entirely convinced by her answer, but he had no real reason to doubt her, save for an odd gut feeling. “I did not realise you’d recognise me.”

“Yes, you do look a bit different with the beard,” Eloise commented. “But not unrecognisable.”

Something in the way she phrased it made Killian feel like he was under sharp scrutiny. Whatever he was looking for, this Eloise seemed to have a whole other agenda, one he was not going to wait around and watch play out. “I should get going. But it was nice to meet you Eloise.” Killian started retreating, but she stopped him.

“Wait! I would be really happy if you took a token of appreciation. Your stories mean a lot to me, especially the Princess you write about.”

“The Swan Princess?” he asked, unable to help himself. He felt a strong tug in his chest when he said those words, as if it recognised who he was talking about. But that was impossible: the Swan Princess was just a character that he had made up.

Instead of dwelling on those thoughts, he simply said,“I am really glad you like my work, lass. I appreciate it. But I must get going.”

“Of course. I don’t want to keep you long.” Eloise pulled a painting from under the counter, holding it out to Killian.

He stepped closer, looking at the painting of a ship in the middle of the ocean depicted in the calm before the storm. As mesmerising as the painting itself was, he was more concerned with the signature at the bottom - Alice.

“Who did this?” he demanded, his eyes snapping up to meet hers. “Who is Alice?”

Eloise brows furrowed in concern at his harsh tone. “Mr. Jones, I’m sorry if I did something to offend you. But I simply wanted to give you this painting because it reminds me of your stories. As for Alice...well, she did make this. But I’m afraid she’s not with us anymore.”

Rationally, Killian knew that there was no way that the Alice Eloise spoke of was the girl from his dreams. But his heart clenched just hearing that. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” he muttered, walking away from Eloise and her store, leaving the painting behind.

As soon as he was out of sight, Eloise’s startled expression slipped into a smirk. “Oh, I finally found you, Captain Hook,” she whispered. She flipped the ‘closed’ sign on the door, and headed into the backroom again.

-/-

20 years ago : Enchanted Forest

“Do you really think it is a good idea to keep this from Alice?” Emma asked, biting her lip. “She might want to know - she was vying for this.”

“As much as I want to shout from the mountain tops how much I care about you, Emma - and it is a lot, believe you me, lass - I just do not want her to think this is more than it is.” When he saw Emma’s face fall, he wanted to kick himself for how he phrased it. “I didn’t mean to sound so flippant, love. I don’t want any kind of pressure on you, and if we tell Alice, she might think that we are-”

“So let her,” Emma said, cutting him off. She stepped up to him, her eyes meeting his determinedly. “There’s no pressure here, but I’m in this for the long haul, Killian Jones. If that scares you, well, I-” She huffed, losing steam. “I’ll have to challenge you to a duel - and I will end up defeating you.”

Killian grinned widely at her, kissing her chastely. “Aye, I have no doubt you will, darling. I would gladly surrender to you, Your Highness.”

Emma flushed, slapping his arm lightly. “Are you ready to tell your daughter that she will soon be free?” Emma could swear that the smile that took over her pirate’s face rivaled even the bright rays of the sun.

-/-

Present : Land without Magic

“Ms. Swan? I think I found the man that you have been looking for.” Emma sat up straight at that. While she had hoped utilizing Mr. Castle’s private investigation services would come to fruition, she had not realised it would be quite this soon. If she had realised how efficient this land’s resources were, she would have relied on them much earlier.

“Are you sure? Killian Jones?” she asked, starting to pace.

“Ms. Swan, Killian Jones is quite a famous writer. I am not unfamiliar with who he is.” Emma could almost hear his condescension. “But he is elusive and an extremely private person, so he was a bit harder to track down.”

“But you did, did you not? Track him down?” Emma asked, irritated by Castle dragging the issue.

“Of course, as I assured you. He’s in a small town in south-eastern England. He is coming back to the United States in three months for a book tour.”

Emma’s elation was unparalleled to anything else in the world. She clutched the ring hanging around her neck tight, as tears pricked behind her eyelids. “Thank you, Mr. Castle. Do you have an address?”

Once she had hung up on the call with Castle, she let a few tears fall - tears of joy, of course, but of sorrow as well. She had to bring him back to all the chaos and pain that he had left. She had to bring him back before she had the cure she’d promised him. She absentmindedly rubbed at her chest, an echo of pain and frustration running parallel to her own emotions. It had been twenty years, but she would never get used to this connection she had with Killian - a curse and a blessing all in one; her life was tied to his in many ways, and being able to sense his feelings was the cruelest of it all.

She could still remember so clearly the day they had parted, could feel the flow of the energy as he linked their lives together; she was unable to age, just like all Dark Ones. Because of him, her light magic was forever corrupted now. She hated him for that: she hated him for leaving her with all the pain and the memories, while he walked into another world, without her, without Alice, and without his memories. But she could never hate him more than she loved him. Emma touched the ring again, her heart settling as she remembered his promise to her - the promise of a happy future, no matter how long it took them to get there. She had made him a promise in turn - to find a way to cure him of the darkness that plagued his soul - and to not come for him before then.

Unfortunately, Gothel had a more sinister plot in mind. After two decades, she had managed to break free of her bonds. Emma had no choice to come for him before that wretched witch found him. Killian was not the only reason Emma had come, of course. There was another person she needed to save, but she knew she had to find Killian Jones first. He would be the only one who could get Alice back.

-/-

Eloise waved at the back wall of her store, sparks of dark magic expelling from her hand. The wall shimmered before disappearing completely, revealing an elaborate garden on the other side, with a glass coffin in the middle, covered in vines. She walked up to it, her hand running over the vines, watching as they retreated at her touch.

“Oh, Alice, dear. You’ve been resting for quite a while, haven’t you?” she whispered, not a hint of remorse in her voice. She stared down at the slumbering girl, looking child-like and peaceful in her spell-struck state. “I just can’t have you meddling in my plans, dear. Your father can’t be compromised, not until I can get my hand on his dagger.”

#cs ff #cs angst #csbb #csbb fic #knightrook

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