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fallforcs · 6 years ago

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Hayrides, Fate, and Fortune Cookies

Art by @imagnifika

Author: @searchingwardrobes

Hayrides, Fate, and Fortune Cookies

Summary: “Wow, you’re hot, but I’m pretty sure that’s your wife.” + “You are incredibly hot, and I keep falling in your lap on this hayride. I swear I’m not doing it on purpose. Wow, this is awkward!”

Rating: G for fall fluff. Like the fanfic equivalent of hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon.

Trigger warnings: None unless you count the possibility of getting a toothache from the fluff :)

A huge thank you to my beta, @looselipswontsinkships . She was swamped with school, yet still managed to look this story over and catch my silly mistakes. Also a shout out to my artist. I had this idea in my head of a beautiful fall aesthetic for my story (which I could never make myself), and look what I got! It’s not only gorgeous but exactly what I was hoping for.

I absolutely adore fall, so I hope you all enjoy this little Captain Swan autumn one shot …

When she woke up that morning, Emma Swan would have never believed that the day would start with a hayride and end with fortune cookies. Of course, she had promised three year old Henry that she would take him to the pumpkin patch in the little coastal town of Storybrooke, Main. The one that all the mom blogs in Portland rated the best pumpkin patch in the area. Peter’s Pumpkins and Pies. In Storybrooke . Ah, she got it. Cute and clever. Or something.

There was so little that she, as an overworked, underpaid single mother, could give to her tiny son. She could at least give him this. She could take pictures of Henry in his cute fall jacket amidst the bright orange pumpkins and post them on Instagram, just like all the other moms.

But then she had awakened to a cold drizzle outside the window and a leaden gray sky. She gently told Henry the weather was just too nasty for the pumpkin patch. Then Henry had dissolved into a puddle of tears on the kitchen floor. Now, Emma wasn’t one of those moms who was ruled by some kind of toddler tyrant. But the thing was, Henry wasn’t that kind of kid. Sure, he had colic the first four months of his life, but it was as if he’d spent all his tears in that brief space of time (though it hadn’t felt brief when she was in the middle of it.) But now Henry was a complacent, easy to please child. His tears that morning were more of the “my little heart is breaking” variety rather than the “I’m going to scream until I get my way” variety.

Emma’s heart broke a little bit too. She was supposed to feel like she didn’t suck at this mom thing for once. So she bundled Henry up in his waterproof jacket with the flannel lining and put his Spiderman boots on his little feet, and prayed the rain would taper off during the 45 minute drive.

For once, Emma’s prayers to anyone up there who would listen were actually answered because by the time she parked in the open field next to Peter’s Pumpkins and Pies, the rain had stopped. However, their feet still made loud squelching sounds as they walked across the soaked grass, and Emma was glad for the rain boots they both wore. The sky was still gray, and the wind that lashed their faces still held a hint of dampness. It also brought the smell of wet, dirty fur downwind from the petting zoo. Not the most pleasant aroma. Emma would have to make sure Henry didn’t notice the barnyard where they kept the animals. The last things she wanted to do was wade through the mud to pet wet, smelly sheep and goats.

“Two please,” Emma said when she reached the ticket booth.

“That’ll be twenty-four dollars,” the plump, cheery woman behind the counter told her.

Emma’s eyebrows rose to her hairline. “Tw-twenty f-four dollars?” she stuttered incredulously.

“That’s right, tickets are twelve dollars a person,” the woman explained, her smile not wavering in the least at Emma’s reaction.

“But, he’s only three,” Emma said, gesturing down to Henry, “does he get in free?”

The woman peered at Henry over the edge of the booth and shrugged apologetically at Emma. “Only guests two and under are free.”

Emma let out a long breath. “A child’s ticket?” she asked hopefully.

“That is the child’s price,” the woman clarified, pointing to a bright sign decorated in fall leaves that announced: Adult Admission at Child’s Price! This weekend only! “Adult tickets are normally sixteen dollars.”

Emma bit her lip as she fished the money out of her pocket. She had promised Henry, but there went pizza for tonight. She guessed it was bologna sandwiches again.

The good thing about the rain was that the crowd was thin. Emma figured that the weather was a blessing in disguise since the weekend’s special deal usually made it a crowded one. Emma was also relieved to see that the petting zoo was down the hill and out of sight of her enthusiastic three year old. Henry was bouncing up and down and swinging their joined hands back and forth.

“What do you want to do first, Henry?” Emma asked, the sight of her son’s joy causing everything else - the weather, the mud, the smells, and the expensive cost of admission - to be pushed far from her mind. “There’s a corn maze, a story barn, a hay ride … oooh, look you can paint your own little pumpkin!”

Emma was relieved to see that everything, including the mini pumpkins to paint, were included in the price of admission. The only thing they would have to pay for was a large pumpkin to take home and carve and maybe a pie. (Okay, she was definitely getting a pie. If pizza was out, she was at least getting a dessert out of all this.)

The next hay ride wasn’t for another fifteen minutes, so they decided to go the story barn where an enthusiastic teenager in overalls and braids was getting ready to read a picture book to the children gathering around on huge logs. Emma grimaced when they took a seat; the logs had apparently soaked up all the rain. Henry scrambled up to stand on top of the log so he could see better over the gathering crowd.

“Henry care-“ the words had barely left Emma’s mouth when Henry’s left Spiderman boot slid out from under him. He pitched backwards, arms pinwheeling in empty air. Emma reached out to grab him, but another set of hands caught him first. “Oh my God, thank you! I –“

Emma’s words failed her then as she looked up into an unfairly attractive face. The man had lustrous dark hair, a finely chiseled jaw covered in delicious looking scruff, and the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen. The eyes were what left her speechless. Then he smiled. A charming, somewhat rakish smile, and then Emma felt herself go hot. She blinked, trying to rouse herself from this stupor. She never let men affect her this way. Ever.

“Be careful there, lad,” he chuckled as he swung Henry up.

He had a British accent, too. Great. If he wasn’t a solid ten before, he sure was now. And he was fit too she could now see as he deposited Henry gently back onto the log (in a seated position this time). His tight jeans, black leather jacket, and gray t-shirt beneath put his toned physique on clear display. The v-neck of the shirt also showed off dark chest hair that made Emma’s throat go dry. He winked at her as he took his seat again on the log behind them.

“Swing me up too!” the little girl next to him squealed. She was an adorable thing with big blonde curls and huge blue eyes that were the same shade as Henry’s rescuer. The man caved immediately to the little girl’s request, and she giggled in delight as he scooped her up and swooped her around in an arc.

“Put her down, Killian!” a woman admonished, though her words had little heat. “The show’s about to start, and you’re blocking everyone’s view!”

The man – Killian, apparently – obeyed the woman’s request immediately, settling the little girl on his knee. It was then that Emma noticed the wedding band glinting in the sun on his left hand. Emma’s heart immediately sank. Sure enough, the woman beside him also had a wedding band with a sparkling diamond solitaire nestled above it. Emma wondered how those rings could sparkle so much on a cloudy day. They must be mocking her.

Emma turned away, putting her arm around Henry to pull him closer as story time began. It was about a misfit pumpkin who was square instead of round, though Emma had a hard time following the plot. She was far too aware of the handsome stranger behind her, and she had to force herself not to glance behind her. He’s with his wife she kept admonishing herself.

The enthusiastic storyteller had Henry giggling in all the right places. She finished up the story with a bow, informing everyone that another hayride was about to leave from the wooden gate directly behind them. It was insane how fast the mob headed in that direction, and Emma held tight to Henry’s hand. They were jostled by overeager children and parents who acted as if this were a ride at Disneyland instead of a flatbed piled with hay. A large man with an ample midsection shoved Emma from behind, propelling her right into … married hottie.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, her face burning with embarrassment. To make matters worse, her next step sent her sliding through a slick patch of mud, and the stranger had to grasp her by both arms to keep her from falling.

“No harm, love,” he assured as he helped her find her footing again.

“Mommy, hu-wee!” Henry piped up, yanking on her hand.

She shook her head to clear it and saw that the hayride was almost full. She mumbled a thank you to the blue-eyed Brit and hurried after her son. The man’s wife and daughter were already climbing the steps into the hay bed, and he hurried past Emma to assist them. Emma took the opportunity to really look at the woman. She moved with elegance, even when taking her husband’s hand to climb aboard the flatbed. Her light blonde hair was in a fishtail braid that rested over her shoulder. She smiled at the little girl as her husband swung the child up, tickling her as she settled into her mother’s lap. It was a picture of domestic bliss framed with the wooden fence and the trees above covered in red and orange leaves like the covers of those parenting magazines that littered the waiting room at the health department. But she could at least scoff at those, knowing they were fake families made of perfect models. This scene was like salt rubbed right where it would hurt most.

Emma brushed off the melancholy thoughts as she helped Henry up into the hay. She had never been so keenly aware of how scuffed his boots were, how faded his little thrift store jacket. Did everyone on this hayride look at the two of them and feel pity? Or worse, judgment? Emma bit her lip, wondering why the handsome man and his picture perfect family were bothering her so much. She grasped the sides of the flatbed and pulled herself up. She and Henry were the last two on, and the hay was packed with people. Emma hesitated, glancing around for an open spot. Impatient, Henry began to whine and cling to her leg. His weight, combined with the uneven bed of hay and the slight tilt of the vehicle on the rutted trail, sent Emma pitching sideways. She fell into another person, both of them grunting with the impact. Emma braced herself against a strong pair of shoulders and looked up into the shocked blue eyes of the same handsome – unavailable – man as before. What did his wife call him again? Oh right …Killian.

To Emma’s shock, his wife actually laughed as Emma stammered an apology. She had literally fallen into the man’s lap, and her legs were tangled up with his. A blush colored his own cheeks as he grinned at her.

“We’ve got to quit meeting this way,” he teased.

“Stop flirting and let the poor woman go,” his wife admonished with a light slap to his shoulder.

She was either really secure in their relationship, or she was really used to women falling all over her husband. Probably the latter, though most women probably didn’t do it as literally as Emma just had. Emma scooted quickly out of his lap, but still didn’t see a spot for her and Henry. It felt like everyone on the hayride was staring at her.

“Here love,” Killian said, scooting over closer to his wife and slinging his arm over her shoulder, “you and your boy can squeeze in here.”

Emma mumbled a thank you yet again – when had her tongue swollen to twice its size? – and wedged herself between Killian and the back gate of the flatbed. She got Henry situated on her lap just as the tractor lurched forward. She grabbed onto the metal grate next to her to steady herself.

“Killian Jones,” the man at her side officially introduced himself, offering his hand.

“Emma Swan,” she replied, shaking it.

“Elsa Jones,” the other woman said, leaning over Killian to offer her hand to shake as well. The last name snuffed out the tiny flicker of hope that had remained in Emma’s heart. So they were married. “And this,” Elsa Jones added, tickling the little girl in her own lap, “is Bethany.”

“Nice to meet you, Bethany,” Emma told the little girl, “how old are you?”

“Thwee,” the child answered, struggling to hold up the requisite number of fingers.

“What do you know?” Emma said to Henry enthusiastically. “You’re three too, Henry. Say hello to Bethany.”

“Hello,” Henry muttered as if it pained him to do so, then turned his face to bury it in his mother’s chest.

Emma frowned. “What’s up with you, kid? You’re never shy.”

Killian leaned towards her conspiratorially. “Maybe he just has a thing for blondes.”

He waggled his eyes, and Emma wondered what his angle was. Maybe he was referring to his wife? Then again, he had also winked at Emma earlier. The guy’s handsome looks suddenly weren’t affecting her quite the same way. What kind of jerk flirted with another woman right in front of his wife?

Emma pressed her lips together as she purposefully looked away from him. Come on, Emma, a part of her argued, maybe he’s just friendly and doesn’t realize how it comes across. But another part of her argued back that the male gender hadn’t exactly proven itself trustworthy throughout her life. Most were scumbags, weren’t they?

The hay ride took them past a field of cows and another of beautiful horses. Emma and Elsa both chatted with the children about the animals, asking what sounds they made. Elsa laughed and chatted with Emma about the things mothers usually do; the struggles of potty training, the annoying kid shows with songs that get stuck in your head, the infernal stubbornness of three year olds. Emma found it odd that she didn’t include her husband in the parenting equation, and even more strange that he didn’t put in his own antidotes. The cracks were showing in this supposedly perfect little family, but it strangely didn’t bring Emma any satisfaction.

The hayride was incredibly bumpy because of all the rain, much to Emma’s chagrin because she kept falling against the rock-hard chest of the man sitting next to her. The more it happened, the more irritated Emma became and the more apologetic Killian became.

Next they passed a field of pumpkins where families ambled amongst the orange gourds, searching for the perfect one. The children both exclaimed with delight, asking when they would get to choose their own pumpkin. Bethany tugged on her father’s arm, pointing excitedly.

“I see, starfish, pumpkins!” he chuckled, brushing a kiss against her curls.

Emma blinked, her heart playing ping pong with her brain. Who was this guy? Flirtatious jerk? Inattentive husband? Doting father? Emma couldn’t tell.

As they rounded the pumpkin patch, the tractor hit a deep rut and then slid in the mud. For one terrifying moment, the entire thing pitched sideways and everyone on board screamed. The driver corrected, guiding them back onto steady ground with a huge bump. The bump sent Emma careening sideways, and she ended up draped across the chest of Killian Jones, her arms encircling his neck.

She reacted more quickly this time, her “I’m so, so, SO sorry!” now directed at Elsa. The woman, amazingly, still didn’t seem fazed. As a matter of fact, the smile on her face and the light in her eyes almost seemed … delighted?

Emma didn’t want to waste one more minute trying to figure out this little family. As soon as the driver opened the gate, Emma scrambled down from the hayride, balancing Henry on her hip. Her son, however, wasn’t cooperating with her attempt at a quick getaway. At some point during the hay ride, Bethany had apparently become his new best friend. She squealed and grabbed his hand as soon as her family climbed down.

“We wanna do the maze!” Bethany shouted.

“The maze! The maze!” Henry echoed her, jumping up and down.

Then the two of them were off like a shot towards the nearby field of tall corn.

“Don’t get too far ahead!” Elsa shouted after them.

“You’ll get lost in there, Henry!” Emma called out as she and her new friend jogged down the hill after them.

“I’ve got them!” Killian assured, passing them with his longer strides. He grabbed up both kids easily, one in each arm, and they both giggled with delight. He turned towards Emma and Elsa with a wink then set the kids down at the entrance to the maze marked “easy.”

Elsa and Emma slowed their pace, following Killian and the children into the maze. Elsa gave her an almost mischievous smile before leaning over to speak to her in a low voice.

“I think he likes you.”

Emma’s eyes grew wide as saucers and her mouth hung open at the other woman’s words. She glanced over at Killian, then back to Elsa, then blinked rapidly. “He, you mean Killian? As in your … your … husband?” She practically whispered the last word.

Elsa’s eyebrows flew to her hairline before she tilted her head back and let out a long, hearty laugh. Emma narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, failing to see why being invited into some weird open marriage scenario was so hilarious to this woman.

“Oh my God, no!” Elsa laughed, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. “I guess I can see how you thought that. We should have been clearer when we introduced ourselves. Killian’s my brother-in-law .”

“Ohhh …” Emma said, trailing off, feeling like she’d just gotten mental whiplash, “but he is married. I saw the ring.”

The smile fell from Elsa’s face as she shook her head, “I’ve told him so many times to take that ring off. He says he can’t bear to, but I think it’s sort of a way to protect his heart, you know? Women assume, like you did, so they stay away.”

Emma tilted her head as her gaze landed on Killian again. He grabbed Bethany before she could dash off in the opposite direction from Henry, tickling her as he tossed her over his shoulder.

“What happened to his wife?”

Elsa sighed. “It was a brain tumor. By the time they found it, the cancer was too advanced. He only had Milah for about four months after the diagnosis. That was four years ago.”

Emma groaned and covered her face with her hands, “God, I feel horrible now.”

Elsa chuckled. “I understand now why you got a little prickly back there. You thought my husband was hitting on you.” She laughed again as if being married to Killian was the funniest, most preposterous scenario. “I mean, he’s a great guy, but he and Liam – my husband – couldn’t be more different. I guess steady and serious is more my type.”

They walked in silence for a moment. They could no longer see Killian or the kids, but they could hear the children’s giggles around the corner and followed the sound.

“Liam is in the navy,” Elsa explained, “and when he was deployed eight months ago, Killian moved here to help with Bethany.”

“Wow,” Emma said, feeling even worse about the assumptions she had made, “that’s a rare guy.”

“Yeah,” Elsa agreed, “that’s why I want to see him move on from his grief.” She stopped and turned to Emma with an earnest expression. “That’s why I was so happy the second he winked at you back at the story barn. I haven’t seen him flirt with a woman that way in so long. And he blushed ten shades of red when you landed in his lap.”

Emma groaned. “Twice. I landed in his lap twice.”

Elsa nudged her shoulder. “Maybe it was fate giving you a little push.”

The “easy” corn maze took far longer than Emma would have expected, and they were all hot, sweaty, and hungry by the time they found their way out. The clouds had rolled away, revealing a bright blue sky, and the temperature had risen with it. Henry had shed his jacket long ago, leaving Emma to lug it around along with her own.

“Why do people think these things are fun?” Emma quipped as they exited the corn field, and Elsa and Killian both laughed in agreement.

“And that was the easy one!” Elsa said with a shake of her head.

“Let’s get some food into these little ones, shall we?” Killian asked, gesturing to a food truck that had been parked along the tree line with wooden picnic benches set up in front of it.

“The little ones?” Emma laughed. “ I’m starving.”

“Uh, why don’t I take the kids and get us a table?” Elsa suggested. “And you two go get the food?”

Emma had only just met the woman, but she was no fool. She noticed the slight tilt of Elsa’s head in Killian’s direction as she locked eyes with Emma. Then she was corralling the kids towards the tables, assuming the other two adults would follow her orders.

“How she and my brother don’t fight twenty four seven is beyond me,” Killian commented with a shake of his head. “They both like bossing people around.”

Emma laughed as they made their way to the food truck. When they joined the long line of people waiting to order, she cleared her throat nervously and shuffled her feet.

“I owe you an apology,” she finally blurted out.

Killian’s brow furrowed. “Miss Swan, you really need to stop apologizing. It was crowded and bumpy –“

She waved her hand to stop him. “I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about … .” she searched for the right words and finally settled on the one Elsa had used earlier, “being prickly.”

He cocked his head at her. “Prickly?”

She let out a long breath. “I was sort of rude. I … I thought you and Elsa were married.”

He gave a small chuckle but didn’t dissolve into laughter as Elsa hand. Instead he lifted his left hand and fiddled with the ring resting there. “I can’t fault you for being confused, love. And if you were right, I would definitely be worthy of your cold shoulder.”

“Are you always so eloquent?” Emma asked, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

He laughed and scratched behind his ear. “So I’ve been told.”

“So I’m forgiven?”

His smile broadened. “Of course.”

They shuffled forward in the slow moving line, and Emma gazed across the field where Elsa sat at a picnic table. Henry was chasing Bethany in circles nearby.

“Elsa explained it all to me,” she told him quietly.

“About why I’m tagging along with their little family or why I’m still wearing a wedding ring?” he asked bluntly.

Emma shrugged. “Both.”

He nodded, staring down at the ring and twirling it around his finger. “It was hard for me to be around them at first. I know it hurt Liam; he was so excited when Bethany was born. But all it did was remind me of what I had lost.” He looked up and met Emma’s gaze. “Milah was pregnant when they found the tumor. Our child and Bethany would have been about the same age.”

Emma frowned as her heart sank. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

He released a sigh as he rubbed his chin. “But it was wrong of me to stay away. I see that now. When Liam shipped out, I was going nowhere, doing nothing with my life. The least I could do was be here for my family when they needed me. Being around Bethany has been the best medicine for my soul, you know? I love that little starfish with all I have.”

Emma smiled. “Kids can do that. Henry is the only good thing to come from a very painful time in my life.”

Killian frowned. “I’m sorry, Emma. Is his father in his life at all?”

Emma shook her head. “No. He doesn’t deserve to be. Let’s just say he took advantage of me, then left me.” She pressed her lips together, hoping Killian didn’t ask for more of the story. She was shocked she had told him that much.

He reached down and gently took her hand. “He must be the world’s biggest idiot, then,” he told her softly, giving her fingers a tiny squeeze.

Emma felt a blush stain her cheeks even as she rolled her eyes. “Smooth.”

Killian wiggled his eyebrows. “It was rather, wasn’t it?” he quipped, making her laugh.

By that point, they had reached the truck. Emma looked over the menu, which was filled with typical country fair type refreshments: funnel cakes, corn dogs, French fries, and candy apples. Emma’s heart sank as she looked at the inflated prices, imagining the tiny wad of cash remaining in the front pocket of her jeans.

“It’s on me, Swan,” Killian said as he stepped up to the window, pulling his wallet from the inside pocket of his jacket. “Anything you and your boy would like.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Emma protested.

He smiled gently at her. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

Emma hated charity, but the way Killian spoke so sincerely, the way his gaze rested warmly on her, it didn’t feel like charity at all. She gave a simple nod, then gave the employee in the window her order. They made their way back to Elsa and the kids laden down with five corn dogs, four orders of fries, an order of onion rings, and five cans of soda. Killian helped her hand everything out, and they all sat down. Elsa and Emma went to work immediately cutting the kids’ corn dogs into bite size pieces.

“Onion rings, not fries,” Killian pointed out before taking a sip of his drink, “I’ll file that information away, love.”

Emma shook her head, hating the way he could so easily make her blush as she concentrated on Henry’s corn dog. She cleared her throat. “Who says you’ll need it?”

He arched one brow and smirked. “A man can hope.”

Elsa smiled delightedly at the pair of them, no doubt praising herself for her matchmaking skills.

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

After eating, the kids wanted to go to the pumpkin painting booth. Each child got a complimentary tiny pumpkin to paint. Being typical three year olds, both children were too stubborn to let Elsa or Emma assist them. Little Bethany poked her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she carefully dabbed blue and yellow polka dots all over her pumpkin. Her circles were blotchy and misshapen, but for three, it was extremely impressive. Henry, on the other hand, insisted on covering his pumpkin sloppily in every color available.

“She’s really good at this,” Emma commented, gesturing to Bethany’s handiwork.

Elsa grinned and elbowed Killian in the ribs. “It’s in her genes, isn’t it?”

“You’re an artist?” Emma asked as Killian scratched behind his ear. She was beginning to wonder if it was a nervous tic of his.

“I dabble,” he admitted with a shrug.

“Dabble?” Elsa snorted with a roll of her eyes. Then she looked at Emma and explained, “he’s a graphic artist.”

“Well,” Killian explained, gesturing to the table before them, “I was referring to the paint. I dabble with painting. The computer stuff is my job. But drawing and painting? That’s my hobby.”

Emma smiled with appreciation at him, then frowned down at Henry’s pumpkin. The colors had all mixed together into a nasty brown. “Well, I can’t say there are any artistic genes in my family.”

Henry turned with a broad grin to show off his pumpkin, and Killian hid a laugh behind his hand. Emma shrugged as she praised Henry’s effort. Oh well, maybe her kid would have other talents, right?

The employees manning the booth lined up all the pumpkins to dry on a shelf behind them, jotting the kids’ names on paper towels. They were informed that they could pick up the dried projects on their way out in about half an hour, so the five of them headed for the pumpkin patch.

“We’re avoiding the petting zoo,” Elsa whispered in Emma’s ear conspiratorially.

“Oh, I’m with you on that one,” Emma whispered back.

“I mean, it rained this morning,” Elsa continued, wrinkling her nose, “do you know how bad those animals are going to smell?”

Emma laughed, “I know, right?”

She remembered reading Anne of Green Gables as a kid. Tried to read it, anyway. The librarian at her middle school thought it would be perfect for Emma; the story of an unwanted orphan finding an unlikely family. The librarian was wrong. Emma Swan had never met a Marilla and Matthew Cuthbert, had never been as optimistic as Anne Shirley, and she had certainly never had any friends who were “kindred spirits.” But now, here with Elsa? She was re-thinking the possibility of such things.

The kids raced through the rows of pumpkins, thumping them with their hands like giant drums. Elsa chose a medium sized pumpkin to make a pie, tucking it under her arm. Emma just stood there, looking up and down the rows with a frown on her face.

“Something wrong, love?” Killian asked.

Emma shrugged with a wry laugh. “Never been to a pumpkin patch before. I’ve always just gotten them at the grocery store.”

Killian nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “The first time I ever went was with Milah after we’d been married about a year.” He pushed a pumpkin idly with his toe before meeting her gaze. “Not many foster parents take the time you know. Never even carved a pumpkin until Liam and I were on our own.”

Emma blinked, shocked to recognize the shame in his eyes. “Foster parents?”

Killian nodded. “Mum died when I was so young, I don’t remember her. Papa just up and left. So …”

Emma bit her lip. “Similar story,” she admitted, “I guess. Thing is, I don’t even know who my parents were or why they abandoned me.”

They were quiet for a long moment, and Emma was relieved to see only understanding, not pity in Killian’s eyes. Then he gave her a soft smile and reached out to twirl a lock of her hair around his finger.

“Well Swan, you never forget your first,” he told her with a smirk.

Emma gaped. “Excuse me?”

He laughed. “First pumpkin that is.”

Emma rolled her eyes and smacked him in the shoulder. “You’re awful.”

“You think I’m cute, admit it,” he teased, sauntering into her personal space.

Emma swallowed hard as she tilted her head to look up at him. The sun overhead sparkled in his blue eyes and his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Are you two ever going to pick a pumpkin, or are you just going to keep flirting?”

Elsa’s voice snapped them both out of it, and Killian rushed over to hoist the large carving pumpkin that his sister-in-law was attempting to juggle with the pie pumpkin. Killian turned back to Emma, his expression looking a bit bashful as his tongue swiped across his lower lip nervously.

“We’re having a get together tonight,” Killian began, “for Elsa’s sister’s birthday. It’s real casual; just ordering some Chinese and then having a bonfire. We … we would love to have you. And Henry, of course.”

“That’s a great idea!” Elsa exulted, smiling broadly. “Bethany and Henry have obviously hit it off, and we always order way too much food.”

“Um …” Emma hedged, her gaze darting from Killian to Elsa and back again.

A part of her wanted to say yes. She had only just met these two, and they already felt like such great friends. But the other part of her, the cautious part, latched onto the fact that she had just met these people . Wasn’t this the part in movies where the naïve young mother gets taken in by the seemingly friendly couple who are actually serial killers? Or she accepts a friendly offer only to find herself escorted to the compound of some weird cult?

Emma shook her head before the words were even out of her mouth. “It’s such a long drive to the city. We really shouldn’t.”

Killian glanced at his wristwatch. “It’s three already, and we’re eating at six. You can just come on over and visit until everyone arrives.”

“You’ll love Anna and her husband,” Elsa insisted.

Emma looked into both their faces, so friendly, so open. In Killian’s eyes, and in their conversations, she also felt a deep connection that she couldn’t explain. But instead of those things comforting her, they only freaked her out more.

“I really can’t,” she said firmly.

Neither of them could hide their disappointment. Killian’s shoulders sagged and he dropped his head to stare at the pumpkin in his arms. When he lifted his gaze to Emma’s, his expression was almost pleading.

“It was wonderful meeting you, Swan. Perhaps … I could get your number?”

Emma felt her heart thudding in her chest, the air suddenly tight in her lungs. They had too much in common, too much shared tragedy. He would expect things to get serious, and that terrified her.

“I … don’t think that’s a good idea.” She averted her gaze when she saw the clear hurt in his eyes.

“Well,” he said with a resigned sigh, “let me help Elsa get these to the car, and I’ll come back and carry yours for you.”

“No, don’t do that,” Emma told him quickly. She feared if she was in this man’s presence for one more minute, her resolve might crumble. “We may be awhile yet. First pumpkin, remember? Gotta make it a good one.”

The smile he gave her was forced, and Elsa laid a hand on his arm as they walked away. Emma remembered her words earlier, I haven’t seen him flirt with a woman that way in so long. He had finally put himself out there, and Emma had crushed him. After they disappeared over the hill, Emma collapsed onto an enormous pumpkin behind her.

“Mo-mmy!” Henry exclaimed, pulling on her hand. “Why you sittin?”

Emma looked at her son wearily. “Because Mommy feels like dirt, that’s why.”

She let Henry pull her to her feet, and she wandered aimlessly among the pumpkins. Henry didn’t seem to mind her stupor, content to run around, climbing on pumpkins and using them like bongo drums. She finally snapped out of it and helped Henry pick a pumpkin for them to carve. One that wasn’t too big or too small and was nice and round. When she hoisted it into her arms, she regretted turning down Killian’s offer to come back and carry it for her. Thankfully, an employee came over to assist her, pushing a wheelbarrow.

It wasn’t until Emma had paid for the pumpkin with the last of the cash in her pocket and had the employee lift it into her backseat that she remembered the tiny pumpkin Henry had painted. She contemplated leaving it, considering that it looked like it had been rolled in doggy poo, but then she thought about what would happen if Henry remembered it. She might have a meltdown on her hands, especially since he hadn’t had a nap today. She sighed wearily, took Henry’s hand, and headed back to the painting booth.

Emma smiled at the workers and thanked them as they handed her Henry’s brown-smudged pumpkin. As she turned to go, Henry’s exclamation stopped her.

“Mommy, look!”

Her son was holding up a pink polka dot Minnie Mouse backpack. On the table next to him was the adorable polka dotted pumpkin Bethany had painted earlier. Emma gasped and took the backpack from her son’s hand. She remembered Elsa carrying it around all day, even complaining how she couldn’t get Bethany to wear it. She examined the pack, looking for a tag with an address, but she could find nothing. She zipped it open, and there, written in black sharpie on the inside cover was, “Property of Bethany Jones, 1245 Sweet Haven Lane, Storybrooke, ME.”

“Henry,” Emma said to her little boy with a smile on her face, “I think fate just gave me another push.”

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

Emma’s GPS told her to take another right turn, then announced that her destination was on the left. Emma parked along the curb, leaning to look out of the window of her yellow bug at the adorable blue Victorian house at 1245 Sweet Haven Lane.

“I hung-wee, Mommy,” Henry told her from the backseat.

“I know, kid,” Emma told him as she unbuckled her seat belt, “we might be eating in just a minute.” If they still want us, that is.

Emma helped Henry out of his car seat and onto the curb. She grabbed Bethany’s things from the front passenger seat, then took Henry’s hand as they walked up the front steps of the beautiful house. It was a little after six, and dusk was falling. The porch lights were already glowing beside the quaint front door. Emma took a deep breath and knocked.

The door swung open a few moments later, and Emma’s breath left her lungs when she saw Killian Jones standing there. Thankfully, he smiled when he saw her.

“Swan! You changed your mind?”

Emma returned his smile and lifted the backpack up for him to see. “I found this after you left. Your address was inside.”

“Oh,” Killian said, his face falling as he accepted the bag, “thank you.”

“The pumpkin she painted is inside.”

“Uncle Ki-wee!” a small voice called, and then Bethany Jones was colliding with her uncle’s leg. “My bag!” she squealed, grabbing it and hugging it to her chest. “Hen-we!” she exclaimed next, launching herself at her new friend.

“Beffy!” Henry shouted in return.

Before Emma could say anything, Bethany was pulling Henry inside and tugging him down the hall. She shouted as she ran, “They came, Mommy! It worked!”

Killian’s jaw dropped and his face turned red. He pointed at his niece’s retreating form. “I did not plan this, I swear. This was all Elsa’s doing.”

Emma smiled shyly up at him. “I don’t mind. I’m kind of glad, actually.”

He grinned so wide, Emma noticed for the first time that he had dimples. “So you’ll stay?”

She shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I do like Chinese food.”

Killian ushered her inside, where she was promptly enveloped in a hug from Elsa.

“Don’t be mad,” she whispered in Emma’s ear.

Emma smiled at her as she pulled away from her embrace. “Mad? I might just thank you.”

Elsa gave a relieved laugh as she pulled her gently into a formal dining room. A red head walked through an archway that led into the kitchen, carrying two cartons of take out. She actually waddled more than walked because she was very hugely pregnant.

“Emma,” Elsa said eagerly, pulling her across the room, “this is my sister Anna.”

The woman set the cartons of fried rice onto the table and then hugged Emma eagerly. “It is so nice to meet you! Elsa told me all about everything,” she finished with a wink.

Emma could only stammer and blush as Anna stepped away. A man with dirty blonde hair came through the archway next, carrying plastic containers of sweet and sour chicken.

“So who was at the door?” he asked as he came into the room, not really paying attention. “Was it that blonde Killian has a crush on?”

Killian walked in the room at the same moment from the hallway, and he stood there, the top of his ears turning red. Bethany was wrapped around his left leg, and Henry around his right. Both were giggling delightedly. Overall, it made an adorable picture.

“Kristoff!” Anna admonished over her shoulder, then quickly turned back to Emma. “Forgive my husband, he has no filter.”

“Says the girl who asked me why I smelled like wet fur the day she met me,” Kristoff grumbled.

Anna rolled her eyes. “Just go get the soy sauce, honey.”

Chastised, Kristoff shuffled back to the kitchen. Elsa shook her head. “Don’t mind them, their cutting banter is their idea of foreplay.”

Anna laughed as she eased herself awkwardly into a dining room chair. “As you can clearly see,” she said, rubbing her large abdomen.

“When are you due?” Emma asked politely.

“Not for another month,” Anna said on a long sigh, “and I know, I’m huge.”

“You look perfect,” Kristoff assured her as he returned with the condiments.

He leaned over and planted a kiss to her forehead. Anna tilted her head and smiled up at him, squeezing the hand that rested on her shoulder. Emma had to admit they were an adorable couple.

Elsa encouraged everyone to take a seat, adamant about who sat where. Therefore, Emma wasn’t surprised to end up on Killian’s right with Henry on the other side of her. Food was passed around amidst easy chatter, and Emma just soaked it in. The only time she ever had this as a kid was with that one family when she was fourteen. Then they had chosen their “real kids” over her, and she had run away.

“So Elsa said you live in Portland,” Kristoff said, making small talk to include her. “What do you do?”

“Oh, um … “ Emma hedged, squirming in her seat, “right now I’m just a temp, filling in here and there.”

She stared at her fried rice, hoping her answer didn’t make her sound irresponsible. Giving birth in jail at 18 wasn’t exactly conducive to higher education, and even though she had worked her butt off once she got out to be able to keep Henry, employers weren’t exactly jumping to give her a chance.

“That’s so funny,” Elsa laughed, “I was working at a temp agency when I met Kristoff. I would never have offered him a home cooked meal if I had known he would steal away my sister.”

Emma laughed along with them as they reminisced, relieved that no one was pressing her about her career plans. Until Elsa turned to her again.

“Have you thought of online college?” she asked. “That’s what I did while working as a temp. Anna and I lost our parents when I was a freshman in college, and it drastically changed both our plans.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said softly.

Killian leaned over, “Welcome to the orphan’s club.”

Emma glanced around the table at all of the welcoming faces around her, and for the first time since she pulled up to the curb in front of the house, she relaxed. The conversation shifted to lighter topics, and Emma found herself smiling and laughing.

“Killian!” Anna gasped, reaching across the table to grasp his left hand which was reaching for another helping of rice, “You took off your wedding ring!”

“Um, aye,” he said awkwardly, pulling his hand from her grip and scratching behind his ear. He glanced at Emma and held her gaze as he explained. “It felt like it was finally time to move on.”

“Oh, I’m so happy!” Anna gasped, both hands flying to her face and tears filling her eyes. She grabbed her napkin and dabbed at her cheeks as they spilled over. “Sorry, pregnancy hormones you know.”

“Mommy,” Bethany piped up, tugging on Elsa’s sleeve, “when we get mashmell-os?”

Elsa rubbed her daughter’s back. “In just a little bit, sweetie.”

“I think we’re all done, right?” Kristoff asked. “All we have to do is toss the paper plates and put away the leftovers.”

“Yay!” Bethany cheered.

“Wait!” Anna said. She reached for a small bowl full of cellophane wrapped fortune cookies. “It’s a birthday tradition, you know. Choose a cookie.”

“We all have to go around and read our fortunes out loud,” Killian explained.

“Oh,” Emma said with a nod as she reached into the bowl as it was passed to her.

“Birthday girl first!” Anna squealed, then broke open her cookie. She read it silently, then burst out laughing. “A great change is coming your way.”

Everyone laughed along with her, and Elsa quipped, “Believe me, you have lots of changes in your future, most of them smelly ones. Right, Emma?”

“Okay,” Anna said, rubbing her hands together gleefully, “I choose Killian to go next.” She exchanged a delighted glance with her sister then added in a sing-song voice, “I hope it’s a good one!”

Killian just shook his head at the teasing as he cracked open his fortune cookie. As he read the tiny slip of paper, however, the blood seemed to drain from his face, and his eyes widened considerably. He just sat there for a long moment, staring at it.

“Well,” Anna pressed, leaning across the table and craning her neck to try to see his fortune, “what does it say?”

“Nothing,” Killian said with a shake of his head, “just your generic good luck sentiment, you know.”

“Killian,” Elsa admonished with a narrowing of her eyes, “that’s not how the tradition works and you know it. Read the fortune, Jones.”

Killian swallowed as red crept up his neck. Then he cleared his throat and read, “Kiss the person to your right.”

Every pair of eyes at the table swiveled towards Emma. Except Killian, who stared down at his plate.

“No way!” Kristoff argued. “It doesn’t say that. Let me see!”

He reached across the table and snatched the fortune. Upon reading it, he handed it to his wife. Her jaw dropped.

“That’s really what it says!”

The fortune was passed around until it got to Emma. Sure enough, Killian wasn’t making it up. Emma’s face burned as she slid the paper over to Killian, their fingertips brushing. She ever so slowly lifted her gaze to his. He gave her a sheepish smile and an apologetic shrug.

“Well, kiss her!” Anna insisted. Her sister and her husband added their encouragement as well.

Emma could see that Killian was conflicted. So she arched a brow and gave him a flirty smile as she said, “Well, how about it? You gonna kiss me or just sit there?”

There was a combination of cheering and clapping from the others, even Bethany and Henry, though they probably had no idea what was going on. Killian chuckled and ducked his head, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. Then his eyes met hers again, and he leaned towards her. But just before his lips could connect with hers, he changed his angle and brushed them across her cheek instead. Emma was simultaneously disappointed and amazed at how that simple brush of his lips sent a thrill all the way to the core of her. A groan resounded from the others but Emma gave him a tender smile. Though part of her wanted him to kiss her properly, she knew it would have been awkward with everyone, including her three year old watching. He reached out with his thumb and brushed it across the dimple in her chin. It was only a quick, light touch, but it made her heart flip anyway.

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

After the fortune cookies, Kristoff and Killian got a bonfire going in the backyard, and everyone gathered around to roast marshmallows. There was also a chocolate cake for Anna’s birthday. Both Kristoff and Killian could play the guitar, and Elsa was an amazing singer. Emma had never heard a better rendition of the birthday song. Then the guys took requests, readily singing and playing whatever was thrown their way, even the PJ Masks theme song (as requested by Henry and Bethany, of course). It showed what good uncles they both were to Bethany that the men already knew all the words.

Now Henry was asleep in Killian’s arms as he walked them to her yellow bug. He gently placed the child in his car seat, and Emma’s heart ached in her chest as Killian smoothed her son’s hair across his forehead. Emma put her hand in her pocket and fingered the fortune she had gotten: When fate gives you a sign, leap.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked as Killian stood and gently shut the car door.

“Sure.”

“Was that kiss really the best that you could do?” her mouth turned up flirtatiously as she said it.

A slow smile filled Killian’s face as well. He sauntered into her personal space as he answered. “Perhaps I was worried that you couldn’t handle it.”

Emma tilted her head as she bit her lower lip. She saw Killian’s eyes drift to stare at that spot, his pupils dilating. “Maybe you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

He pounced on her so suddenly, that Emma let out a yelp. It was quickly swallowed up, however, by his mouth on hers. The kiss was deep and aggressive, and it caused Emma to lose her balance. Killian cupped her cheek with one hand and steadied her at the waist with the other. He turned her slightly to pin her between the bug and his body. Emma snaked her arms up his chest and then grasped the back of his head with both hands. It was his turn now as she kissed him back with ferocity, a groan escaping from his throat.

When they finally parted, panting, they were both wobbling slightly and disoriented. They pressed their foreheads together to steady themselves.

“Now that,” Emma gasped, “was a kiss.”

He chuckled, brushing both of her cheeks with his thumbs as he cupped her face. He bent down to kiss her again, this one slow and languid. His fingers drifted to her hair, tangling there and tugging slightly. It took every ounce of willpower Emma had to push him away, and even then she chased his lips, brushing them chastely before reaching behind her and grasping the door handle.

“Good night,” she told him as she opened the car door.

“Wait …” he said, looking completely wrecked by their kisses.

Emma put two fingers to his lips to stop his words, then with her other hand, she pressed a tiny slip of paper into his palm. Then she quickly entered the bug, started the car, and drove away. She glanced in her rearview mirror only once to see him standing in the street, staring down at that tiny bit of paper. She tore her gaze away as she turned at the next stop sign.

Suddenly, her cell phone started ringing. Emma picked it up and grinned broadly to see an unknown number flashing on the screen. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath so that when she answered, she sounded calm.

“Hello.”

“You know, a lesser man might think you were teasing, Swan. Writing your number on such an itty bitty piece of paper.”

“Well,” Emma teased back, “I wanted you to work for it.”

“When can I see you again?”

The timbre of Killian’s voice when he asked the question sent a shiver down Emma’s spine.

“When are you available?”

“Well, we’ve already been on a hayride, solved a corn maze, been to a pumpkin patch, and had a bonfire. How about we continue the fall clichés and carve said pumpkins together? Could you and Henry be here tomorrow afternoon? Or do you work Sundays?”

Emma didn’t know what touched her more; that he wanted to see her again so soon, that he was including Henry, or that he had chosen a casual activity. It took her so long to get herself together, that Killian got nervous waiting on the other end.

“Swan, you still there?”

Emma cleared her throat. “Um, yeah, sorry. I was just … thinking that tomorrow is perfect.”

Over the next few weeks, Killian insisted that they check off every fall tradition together. In addition to carving pumpkins, they watched a Storybrooke High football game cuddled underneath a fuzzy blanket, jumped into a pile of leaves, bobbed for apples at the Storybrooke Fall Festival, and took Henry and Bethany trick or treating. By the time Emma found herself gathered around the dining room table once again for Thanksgiving with Killian’s family, she had decided one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Fall was definitely her favorite season.

#ffcs 2018 #fallforcs #fall for captain swan #blinddate with a fanfic #cs ff #cs au #searchingwardrobes #hayrides fate and fortune cookies

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branlovestowrite · 6 years ago

Text

Score One for the Coach

This is the story that I wrote for the @fallforcs event. I live in Northeast Florida, and we don’t often see many of the traditional markers of fall, like cooler weather and turning leaves, until much later in the year. But one fall tradition that is universal to the south is football. I grew up on football, and I knew it was fall when the regular season games started.

When I had to pick a fall topic to write a story about, football was one of the first things that came to mind. I must send a HUGE thank you to my beta @jonirobinson64. She not only helped me focus and fine-tune the story but also helped me pick the title. She was such a joy to work with, and I am really glad the mods assigned her to be my beta.

I also want to thank the mods of Fall for CS. This was a fun event. I loved the blind date with a fanfic concept. I hope it will be repeated in the future.

Thanks also goes to my artist, @nicole-nikla who created the lovely banner for this story.

Score One for the Coach

Summary: When her son takes up football, Emma Swan starts attending games to support him. She just wants to cheer on her kid, but all the other moms want to set her up with the team's coach, Killian Jones. No matter how good looking he is, she hates set-ups. But can she really resist his charms once she starts getting to know him better?

Rating: T for mild language and some light petting (nothing explicit)

Trigger Warning: brief mention of deaths of minor characters in the past (this is an AU, but Killian still lived through some of same tragedies that he does in canon)

AO3 Fanfiction

Emma cringed as she watched Henry get tackled for the third time that day. He had insisted on playing football this year, and it was the first extracurricular activity his dad Neal supported and was willing to pay for. So, despite her concerns about injury, she hadn't tried very hard to talk her son out of playing. She was just happy there was finally something that allowed her ex to connect with his son.

Henry was good at the sport when he paid attention, but today was not one of those days. He kept looking to the bleachers to see when his dad was going to show up, and the defensive players were taking advantage of his distraction. Luckily he hadn't given up any points… yet. Being one of the fastest runners at his school, he'd been given the position of Running Back. His slight stature and ability to weave through obstacles had dubbed him the team's secret weapon. The other team wouldn’t see him coming until it was too late. But he had to avoid getting tackled to make that work, and today he was doing a very poor job of it.

The coach blew his whistle. “Swan! Get your head in the game! Our first real matchup is Thursday. We need you focused!”

Emma couldn't help but swoon just a little at the football coach’s accented speech. His elegant tone made even the most mundane platitudes sound exciting. And, even if she thought he might be granting a little too much importance to a game played by middle school kids, she appreciated his motivation tactics. He never lashed out in anger or tried to embarrass the kids. Instead he reminded them how dependent they were on each other.

“Sorry Coach Jones,” Henry called back.

“Don't apologize to me. Apologize to your teammates.” He blew his whistle again. “Everyone bring it in. Let's do a water break. The weather hasn't caught up with the date yet.”

Emma fanned herself as she silently agreed with him. The weather in their North Georgia town was still hot, despite the September date. She was ready for fall and cooler temperatures.

“Oh my god, I know. He's so hot, right?” came a voice from her left. Emma looked over to see Ariel Seafarer, whose daughter Melody was the team's Kicker. Ariel was a beautiful woman with thick red hair, creamy smooth skin, and bright green eyes. She had a personality to match, being one of the kindest people Emma had ever met, outside of her sister-in-law Mary Margaret. She was also very happily married to her husband Eric for fifteen years, so why was she ogling the coach?

Emma realized she was staring awkwardly and quickly averted her gaze before replying. “Oh, um, no. I was thinking about the weather, actually.”

Ariel smiled. “Oh yeah, that too. But it only serves to highlight his muscles more when he wears those tight shirts to try and combat the heat.” Emma opened her mouth to reply, but Ariel pressed on. “ And no, there is nothing wrong with my marriage. I love Eric dearly. But I still have eyes!” she said with a giggle.

“I um… I guess…?” Emma didn't know how to respond.

“You should ask him out sometime! You're both single. Then you could tell me all about it and help feed my fantasies.”

“Ask who out?” came a voice from behind them as Neal settled on the bleachers next to Emma.

“No one,” Emma replied, shooting a warning look to Ariel. “Where were you?” she asked, changing the subject as she turned to face him. “The scrimmage is almost over.”

He rubbed his hand through his shaggy brown hair and looked at her with his big, brown, puppy dog eyes. “Shit, I'm sorry, Ems. I got held up at work. I promise I'll be on time for the game on Thursday. That's the important thing, right?”

“Don't apologize to me. Apologize to your son.” It wasn't lost on Emma that her words echoed those of Coach Jones. “But don't give him empty promises. If you say you're going to be there, be there.”

“Alright, alright. I got it. You don’t have to badger me. I’ll be there with bells on, okay?”

She bit her lip to hold back the snarky reply waiting on the tip of her tongue. Neal’s nonchalance infuriated her. She’d found it charming when she first met him. She thought he was too cool to give a damn about anything. But now that he treated their son with the same laissez faire attitude, she wished Neal would learn to be conscientious. She would never trade her son for anything, but she chastised herself constantly for having ever hooked up with his father.

Thankfully, the rest of the scrimmage went well, and, as it wrapped up, she was glad to see the broad grin on Henry’s face when he saw his father. Neal walked onto the field to greet his son, and Emma trailed behind.

“Mrs. Swan?” She heard Coach Jones say as he approached her.

She smiled awkwardly at him. “Just Miss Swan, Coach Jones. How can I help you?” She struggled to maintain her composure up close. He was so good looking, with his dark hair, broad shoulders, soulful blue eyes and artful scruff covering his rugged jaw.

“I was hoping to have a chance to speak with you about Henry in private. I have some concerns about his behavior.” She felt her face pale at his words, which he must have noticed because he scrambled to amend his statement. “Oh! No, nothing dire, I assure you. Henry is a good boy.”

“Of course he is! He’s my son!” Neal said as he walked up with Henry at his side, his arm around the boy’s shoulder.

“Mom! Can we go get pizza?” Henry asked, his pleading brown eyes an exact match of his father's, only with more sincerity.

“Um, yeah, let me just finish up with Coach Jones and I can meet you guys there. Where are you going?”

“Oh, well, I was kinda hoping I could have some guy time with Henry…” Neal replied, a sheepish smile spreading across his face.

“It’s a school night, Neal,” Emma began.

“Please Mom! Dad can drop me off at the apartment when we’re done. I promise I’ll still get my homework done.”

She felt her resolve weaken. It was hard to deny Henry time with his father, an all too rare occurrence. “Fine,” Emma said. She turned her steely gaze to Neal, “You better have him home by 9:00 at the latest.”

“Yes officer.”

His mother’s permission having been granted, Henry headed off to the locker rooms to change. Neal called out that he'd be waiting for his son at the car, and, after a breezy goodbye to Emma, he headed that way. The field emptied out, but Coach Jones was still there.

“Well,” Emma started as she walked over to him. “It appears my evening has opened up. I’m free now if you want to talk.”

“Why don’t we get dinner at Granny’s?” Jones suggested. “I am afraid I unnecessarily worried you earlier, and I’d like to make up for my gaff.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle at his slyness. “Okay Coach Jones, I’ll meet you for dinner, but I’m paying for my own meal.”

“Alright,” he said with a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling adorably. “But please, call me Killian.”

She returned his smile. “Only if you call me Emma.”

Sitting across from Emma Swan, Killian found his usual cool demeanor failing him. He’d been attracted to Henry’s mother from the moment he saw her, but told himself that he could never do more than admire her from afar. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to suggest they go out to dinner tonight. This conversation could just as easily have happened in his office. On school grounds. With other people around. Meeting her like this, in such a casual setting, felt almost like a date.

Thankfully, Emma did not seem afflicted by the same anxiety. “So, you said you had some concerns about Henry?”

“Ah, yes,” Killian began, clearing his throat. “Henry is a good boy, and he plays hard, but he seems overly focused on how others perceive him. He shows a talent for football, but I have noticed that his best performances always occur when his father is around.”

“I’ve seen that too,” she replied, her voice low. “He’s always been more of an introverted kid, writing stories and playing fantasy games with his friends. Neal has always pressed him to be more outgoing. I think that’s the only reason he tried out for football, to connect with his dad.”

“That’s an understandable motivation, but I need Henry to be more consistent. We can’t hinge all our games on whether or not his father will be there.” He paused, gauging her reaction before continuing. “I would like to have a conversation with him along these lines, but, considering the sensitive topic, I wanted to consult with you before I do so.”

She stared at him, and he could not interpret the look on her face. He had a moment of panic, fearing he'd overstepped his bounds, before the corners of her mouth lifted into a small smile. “Thank you… for offering to talk with him, but I think this would be better received coming from me.”

“That would be perfect. Henry is truly an asset to our team. I am proud to be coaching him.”

The waitress appeared then and they placed their orders. Once the menus were taken away, Emma placed her hands on the table and cocked her head slightly while she looked at him. He couldn’t help but admire her intelligent green eyes, soft skin, high cheekbones, and golden hair. He’d always found Emma Swan to be beautiful, but being this close to her, he saw now that she was more than beautiful- she was captivating.

Her soft pink lips fell open, and he realized with a start that he’d been gawking at her. He felt his cheeks flush as he picked up his glass and took a long sip of water.

“So,” she began, mercifully breaking the tension, “how did you end up coaching middle school football in Northeast Georgia? I hope I’m not wrong in assuming you’re not a native, considering your accent.”

He chuckled. “You are correct. I was raised in England, but I came to America when I was a freshman in high school. I was much more familiar with the version of football you Yanks call soccer, but there weren’t many options to play soccer in the town I lived in, so I learned American football. I played well enough to be awarded a college scholarship. Not well enough to earn fame and fortune, but it paid for me to get my degree.”

“As a teacher, right? How long have you been doing that?”

“Aye. I’ve been teaching for about ten years, but I only started coaching two years ago.”

“And you like being a coach?”

“I do. I’m glad I took on this responsibility. I love teaching, but coaching gives me an entirely different sense of fulfillment.”

“I should know this,” she said with a shy smile, “but what subject do you teach?”

“Eighth grade English and literature.”

“How’d you end up teaching middle school? That’s a hard age group. I am extremely lucky to have an easy kid like Henry, but even I get frustrated now and then.”

“Middle School is a difficult time of life, and that is just when students need extra support. I won’t tell you that I’ve never had a student bring me to my wit’s end, but for the most part I truly enjoy working with middle schoolers.”

“Well, I have to thank you. Henry really likes having you as a coach. He’s always going on about something ‘Coach J’ said. I’m glad he has someone like you setting an example for him.”

“I’m happy to be there for him.” He took another sip and looked at her, raising a single eyebrow. “Your turn, love. How did you end up working for the Sheriff’s office?”

“My brother’s the Sheriff.”

“Truly? David Nolan is your brother?”

“Yep. Well, by adoption, but he’s never treated me like anything less than his true sister.”

“I like David. I’ve only been able to interact with him on a few occasions, but I can see that he is a truly good person.”

“Do you know Mary Margaret? She teaches at the elementary school, so you two might not have met.”

“We've crossed paths a few times, at teacher meetings and the like. I have yet to meet a more upbeat person.”

“Truer words were never spoken,’ she said with a chuckle. “I wonder why you and I haven't ever seen each other before? It seems like we've both been in Storybrooke for a while, and it's not like it's a large town.”

“I've seen you, love. Several times. It just never felt right to approach you.”

“Why not?”

“You're a parent. Teacher parent relations outside of school aren't expressly forbidden, but they are discouraged.”

“Oh, right, of course.” Emma drew back, seemingly reluctant to have gone down this path in their conversation. Luckily she was saved by the arrival of their food.

After they'd both taken a few bites, Killian picked up the conversation once more. “So, have you always lived in Storybrooke?”

“No. I came here when I was twelve.”

“What brought you here?”

“Um…” she hesitated, putting her sandwich back on her plate and wiping her hands on a napkin. “It's not an easy story.”

She’d rested her hand on the table, and he gently placed his own hand over it. “You can trust me, Swan. I'll not spill your secrets.” He met her eyes with an earnest gaze.

She smiled nervously. “It's not exactly a secret. I'm surprised you haven't heard my story through the rumor mill already.”

“I haven't, but even if I had, I would prefer to hear the truth from you.”

Her smile bloomed into a radiant grin for just a brief moment, and it was like he was looking into the sun. As she began speaking, however, her countenance changed to a more pensive expression. “I was born in Maine, but my parents abandoned me when I was just a few days old. I don't know who they were. I got put in foster care. A family took me in, but when I was three they had their own child and I was moved.”

“They could just give up a child they'd adopted?”

“I was never adopted. They only fostered me.” She took a deep breath, her voice a little shaky. “After that I kind of bounced around. I'm told I was a willful child and gave most of the families a hard time. By the time I was twelve, I was living in group homes, and I'd had enough.”

“What did you do?”

“I stole some cash and bought a bus ticket. I wasn't really sure where I wanted to go, but I had just enough money for a ticket to Atlanta, so I took that as a sign.”

“You, as a twelve year-old, rode a bus from Maine to Atlanta?”

“From Boston, actually. That's where I'd been placed originally.”

“What did you do when you arrived?”

“Starved, mostly. But then I met David and his mother Ruth, completely by chance. And David, being David, wouldn't let me walk away. It took a while, but I eventually learned to trust them, and they took me in. Ruth adopted me when I was sixteen. I only got a few years with her after that, but I cherish every one. She was an amazing woman.”

“She sounds like it.”

Emma sniffled slightly before taking in a deep breath. “So, tell me more about you. You said you came to the states as a high school freshman. What brought you here?”

“Well, like you, it’s not exactly a happy tale. I grew up with my mother and older brother. Our father abandoned us when I was very young.” He paused to clear his throat. The next part of the story never got easier, no matter how often he told it. “When I was thirteen, Mum got sick very suddenly. Cancer, late stage. Liam was in the Navy, stationed on a submarine, and we couldn’t contact him. She died quickly, and, as I had no other family nearby, the social worker contacted my father. To this day I don’t know how she was able to obtain his contact information so easily when Mum hadn’t heard from him in ages.”

Killian looked down at his plate, idly picking the sesame seeds off the bun of his hamburger. He lifted his head and saw Emma watching him without any pity, just understanding, and it was a balm to his nerves. Having lost his appetite, he shoved the plate to the side, but felt compelled to continue his tale. He found himself wanting to share things with Emma that he hadn’t been willing to share with another person for a very long time.

“So,” he said, taking a deep breath, “turns out dear old Dad was living in the States, in Florida. When he heard about Mum, he offered to take me in, even paying for my airfare. I didn’t want to go, but he was still legally my father. It was all over before Liam even heard about our mother’s death. Liam tried to get custody of me, but it was a very difficult battle, especially once I was stateside and in my father’s care. Dad had turned over a new leaf. He had a new American wife and a little boy named Will. Pretty hard to get a judge to agree that living with my bachelor elder brother was a better situation.”

“It must have been really hard for you, coming to a new country, not having your brother, and having to reconnect with your father.”

“It was. I was very angry. Dad had his perfect little family. I resented him for leaving us behind. He tried to give me excuses, but I wouldn’t listen. His wife, Maria, was the person who saved me from myself. She has the patience of a saint, that one. She convinced me to visit a therapist, reconnected me with Liam, and even helped me make a plan to move back to the UK once I was legally an adult.”

“Did you go back?”

“No… um…” his throat choked up. “Liam was killed in an accident two years later.”

“Oh Killian, I am so sorry!” She got up and moved to his side of the booth, taking his hand in her own and rubbing soothing circles on the back with her thumb.

“Thank you, love” he said, his voice husky. “It’s in the past. It was a very difficult time in my life, but playing sports helped tremendously. The routine and camaraderie with my teammates helped me get through.”

“I’m glad you had that to keep you grounded.”

“As am I.”

“Do you still keep in touch with your dad and Maria?”

“Aye. They moved down to Palm Beach, and Will is in college. We get together at holidays.”

“Family is nice.”

“It is.” He looked down and saw that their fingers were still entwined. “It appears we have much in common.”

“Yeah,” she said with a smile. “I’d say we understand each other.”

Their food had gone cold, but neither minded. They continued their conversation, staying as long as they dared before Emma had to leave to make sure Henry was home on time. When they parted ways, Killian felt lighter than he had in years. And that night when he slept, he had a pleasing dream involving the beach, a light breeze, and Emma’s golden tresses flowing in the wind.

It was the night of the first game of the season. Henry’s first game as a football player. The night Neal promised he wouldn’t be late. And he wasn’t there.

Emma’s heart broke for her son. As she’d promised Killian, she had spoken with Henry about being distracted at the games. He seemed to understand and take her words to heart, but now it appeared as if nothing had stuck. Henry was constantly looking toward the bleachers, distracted from the game. Because of this, he’d lost control of the ball and allowed the opposing team to take possession. The Storybrooke Knights were down by a touchdown as a result.

They were midway through the second quarter. Mary Margaret and David had come out to support their nephew, and were very charitably attributing Henry’s flawed performance to anything other than his father’s absence

“He must be nervous, poor kid,” David said. He clapped his hands and yelled loudly “Go Knights!” in an attempt to cheer on Henry.

“I’m sure Neal got held up at work. He’ll be here soon,” Mary Margaret said, her green eyes shining with their trademark look of hope. She smoothed her short black hair and scrutinized her sister-in-law. “Is there anything else going on?” She followed Emma’s gaze to the field before realizing that Emma wasn’t looking at the field, but rather the sideline where Coach Jones stood, anxiously watching the action.

“Killian Jones is the coach, huh? I never would have thought of him for this role, but he seems to be doing really well with the kids.”

“Yeah, he’s a good coach. Henry really likes him.”

“Not just Henry, judging by the look on your face.”

Emma turned to give her sister-in-law an incredulous look. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re into him. I can see it in the way you look at him. And Ruby told me you had dinner with him at Granny’s the other night.”

“We had dinner to talk about Henry, that’s it. I’m not ‘into’ him.” She emphasized her words with air quotes.

“Right,” Mary Margaret replied before fanning herself with her hand. “Man it’s hot out here! I wonder why Coach Jones decided to wear black jeans instead of shorts.”

“Blue jeans,” Emma replied automatically before realizing the trap that had been laid for her.

“Really? His jeans are blue? How can you tell when it’s so dark?”

“I’m not dignifying that with an answer,” Emma grumbled before turning her attention back to the game.

Neal didn’t arrive until the last two minutes of the first half. By that time the team was behind, 14-0. Killian lingered at the sideline after they filed off the field, and Emma took a chance to step down from the bleachers and approach him.

“Swan,” he said, his smile forced, an exasperated look marring his features.

“Rough game, huh?”

“They’re still children, I don’t want to pressure them too much. But we had such high hopes going into this game.”

“Well, Neal is here now, so maybe things will pick up in the second half?” Emma smiled at him sheepishly.

Killian sighed in response and scrubbed his hand down his face. “No offense, Emma, but I don’t want the success of my team to hang on whether or not your ex can get his shit together.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Her heart started racing and her voice went up an octave, her body jumping into defense mode. “You think I told him to be late? You think I want my son stressing out like this?”

“Of course not,” Killian backtracked. “I didn’t mean that, but I thought you were going to talk about this with Henry?”

“I did!” she hissed, pulling him aside so they were more secluded. “But I can’t control anything about this situation, and it kills me much more than it wounds your precious pride. It’s just a damn game to you, Killian. Meanwhile, I have to watch my son’s heart get broken every fucking day. So don’t give me some lecture about how your team of middle school kids are losing one game because my son desperately craves validation from his father.”

Killian set his jaw and stared at her. “This has nothing to do with my pride. This is about my team. The entire team. I need Henry to be able to focus, and if he can’t do that, then maybe he’s not cut out for football.”

“You’d cut him? He’s twelve. This is a middle school football league.”

“And one of the reasons parents sign their kids up for this is to help them learn how to work as part of a team. Now, I am going to talk to all my players and encourage them to get their heads in the game and pull out a worthwhile performance. I am not worried about winning or losing, so long as they all put in their best effort. And Henry is not doing that right now. If he can’t shape up, he will be cut.”

Emma was speechless as she watched him walk away to the small, concrete block structure that served as a locker room. She really wished alcohol was allowed at these events. Unable to drink, she did the next best thing and trudged up the bleachers to yell at her ex for being so late.

Killian had not seen Emma since the night of the team’s first game. Instead, Henry’s father made a show of attending every scrimmage, always on time. It was quite an improvement on his part, and Killian couldn’t help but feel happy for the lad.

They did not win their first game, but Henry improved in the second half. He was becoming a more conscientious player, although his father attending the entirety of their practice games was the most likely cause of his improvement. Killian still worried about how Henry would react if Neal suddenly returned to his old ways.

If he was honest with himself, Killian also missed Emma. After admiring her from afar for so long, it was painful now to not have the ability to further explore their potential relationship. He longed to apologize to her for his behavior that night. He'd been frustrated and said things he shouldn't have. He was unable to catch up with her after the game and hadn't seen her since.

After ruminating on these thoughts in his office one night, long after school ended, he decided to get out of his own head and go for a drink. Killian tried not to drink often. He had a bad history with alcohol, which at one point had nearly lost him his college scholarship. But, after many years of abstinence, he'd taught himself how to drink in moderation and enjoyed a nice glass of rum every now and then.

He stepped into his favorite establishment, the Rabbit Hole, and approached the bar. Just as he was about to take the first empty stool, he saw her. She looked as beautiful as ever, her golden tresses framing her face and accentuating her high cheekbones. A spot was open next to her, and he made his way over before he could think too much about it.

“Is this spot taken?” He asked as he gestured to the empty stool.

She looked up at him, and he could not read the expression in her eyes. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, she opened her mouth to respond. He caught himself fixating on her lips and almost didn't hear what she said.

“Long time no see, Coach Jones.”

“Aye, Miss Swan. I've missed you at our scrimmages.”

“Yeah well… if I told you I was a little embarrassed to show my face after the fight we had, would you believe me?”

“I would, because I feel the same. I am sorry for the things I said. I let my temper and my frustration get the better of me.”

“I’m sorry too. I think we both got a little carried away.” She took a sip from her nearly empty drink. “That being said, I think it's better that Neal is the primary parent for football. He knows more about the sport.”

“I'm glad he is there for Henry now, but his sudden change in behavior is somewhat surprising. I can't help but worry that it's not sustainable.”

She was silent for a moment, studying the melting ice in her glass. “I think the change will stick. I’ve given him hell in the past for skipping out, but he really didn't start paying attention until I told him Henry might get cut from the team. He wanted to put the blame on you and go complain to the principal at first, but I talked him down from that, and he finally agreed to start attending scrimmages.”

“I appreciate you saving me from another parent yelling at me about how I am robbing their child of an opportunity. I just hope you are right.”

“Neal is a selfish bastard, but I think he's finally gotten the message. He does love his son.”

The bartender came and took their order, and Killian used the opportunity to gather his wits. There was a time when he'd been good with women, and he tried to channel that part of himself now. “ As I said, Swan, I am happy for Henry, but I don't wish to discuss your ex.”

“Yeah?” She rested her elbows on the bar and looked at him slyly. “So what do you want to talk about?”

His rum arrived then, and he took a sip before replying. “I've missed seeing you. We'd only just begun to get to know one another, and I think I've made it clear that I've admired you for quite some time.”

“I thought I was off limits,” she responded, her voice husky as she batted her eyelashes.

“I’ve been thinking about that, and technically I'm not your son’s teacher, just his coach.”

“I see… Well that makes all the difference. Any other revelations?”

“Just that I can't stop thinking about how much I want to kiss you. I regret not taking the chance when I had it.”

“Oh?” She angled her body toward him and tilted her head slightly. “Well, if you play your cards right you might get another.” She put a hand on his thigh, just above the knee, and squeezed gently.

Although he was trying to be a gentleman, that simple touch went straight to his groin. He stifled a moan. It had been too long since he'd been with a woman. Instead, he mustered a cheeky grin and tilted his glass toward hers. “Well then, a toast to second chances.”

Emma felt like a naughty teenager as she made out with Killian Jones in the alley next to the Rabbit Hole. They were trying to remain undetected, but doing a poor job of it judging by the sounds they were making.

Jones's mouth plundered her own, wrapping around her bottom lip and sucking gently, nibbling until she moaned and opened up, allowing him to slide his tongue inside. Their heads tilted and the kiss deepened, the firm press of his lips to her own fueling her fantasies of what else he could do with that mouth.

They parted to pull in some much needed breaths, before his sinful lips began to mark a trail down her neck. His hands pulled her hips into his own.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered against her neck. “I've wanted to taste you for so long.”

“Come back to my place,” she whispered. “Henry is spending the night with his dad.”

He stopped, his mouth hovering over the hollow of her throat. “You are a siren, tempting me to my doom.” The vibration of his voice against her skin made her shiver. “I would love nothing more than to spend the night worshipping you, but I must insist on being a gentleman.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, running her fingers through the short hairs on the back of his head.

“Let me take you on a date, love. A real date.” His hand flew up to cup her cheek as he lifted his head to gaze into her eyes. “Let me treat you like you deserve.”

The Indian Summer heat wave had yet to abate, and, even at night, the humidity pressed down on them. She watched as a bead of sweat rolled down Killian's throat and wanted nothing more than to follow it with her tongue. “Are you sure we can't do both?” She grabbed the collar of his shirt and latched her mouth onto his neck, acting on her thoughts.

His head fell back and he groaned in frustration. “Emma, please, can we take this slow? I don't want to rush.”

His shaky voice gave her pause, and she froze in place. “You really want to take me out first?” She lifted her head and met his eyes once more.

“Yes. I do. More than anything.” He held the stare and pressed his lips together.

“Okay,” she finally said, sliding her hands down to his shoulders and leaning forward to place a chaste kiss to his lips.

At the next game, Emma sat closer to the sidelines, and surreptitiously tried to check out Killian’s butt every chance she got. A cold snap had finally come, and she was wearing a light sweater under her favorite red leather jacket. And if she’d been a little extra precise when applying her makeup that evening, it was no one’s business but her own.

Ariel was there again, this time with Rory Prince, whose son, Phil, played defense. Ariel gave Emma a sly look before leaning over to Rory.

“She’s definitely interested in the coach.”

“Who could blame her?” Rory replied. “They’d be super cute together. I ship it.”

“We’re just friends,” Emma replied, looking at the two other women with a furrowed brow.

“Okay,” Ariel replied. “But if you ever change your mind and decide to go for more, you have our full support and encouragement.”

“Absolutely,” Rory chimed in. “Henry is welcome to spend the night any time you need a date night.”

“But please,” Ariel added, “give us details. I need to know if he's as good of a kisser as I imagine.”

Emma couldn't stop the blush that rose up her face as she recalled memories from their night at the Rabbit Hole. “Thanks…” She schooled her features and looked forward, watching the game closely.

“Oh yeah. She wants him,” Rory said. Emma took some deep breaths and tried to ignore them.

When Emma had agreed to a date with Killian, she'd made one request: they had to go somewhere outside of town, to avoid the prying eyes of small town neighbors.

Killian spent an entire evening agonizing over their destination before finally finding the perfect solution. Now it was the night of the date, and he pulled into the parking lot and headed to the gate to meet her.

“The fair? Really?” She asked as she walked up to him a short while later.

He had a moment of panic. “Would you rather go elsewhere?”

“No!” Her mouth stretched into a big smile. “I love the fair! I haven't been to one in years.” She lifted up on her toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Perfect choice.”

He relaxed and offered her his arm. After purchasing their admission and ride passes, they entered, walking down the aisle of carnival games first. Emma’s face lit up as she pointed out the oversized stuffed animals hanging from the top of the tents. Killian determined that he would win her one of those prizes before they left.

They made their way to the ride section and lined up for Tilt-A-Whirl. The childlike joy on Emma’s face warmed his heart. As they settled into their seats and the lap bar was lowered, she giggled in anticipation. The sound was pure magic. The ride started moving, slowly at first but picking up speed. As they spun around, Emma's giggles turned into full on laughs and Killian joined in. The ride was over almost as quickly as it began, but their joy continued as they lined up to ride the bumper cars next.

They worked their way through the ride section, leaving the ferris wheel for last. When it came time for the wheel, they were ushered into a gondola by the attendant and then waited as they were slowly moved forward so more riders could board. Killian took the opportunity to admire Emma’s profile, cast in the glow of neon against the backdrop of the darkening sky.

She caught his eye and smiled. “This is wonderful. I'm so glad we did this.”

“Aye. Me too.” He reached over and threaded their fingers together.

She snuggled into his side just as the ride began to move. “You know,” Emma said, “I don't normally like heights, but this is really nice. The view is breathtaking.”

“That it is,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving her face.

She tore her gaze from the view to meet his own. Her lips lifted into a shy smile and she tilted her chin up. He took the hint and met her mouth with his own, their kiss sweet and unhurried. The gondola rocked gently in response to their movement and the motion of the ride. They continued kissing even as they passed by the bottom of the ride where other riders were waiting. It was only when someone directed a whooping call their way that they broke apart, both flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and desire.

They ascended once more, and Emma leaned her head on his shoulder. “I really like you, Killian.”

“I feel the same. You are an exceptional woman.”

She looked up at him through her lashes, biting her lip. “ Do you think we should… ‘go public’? Tell people we're dating?”

“Is that what you want?”

“I do. But… maybe not just yet? It has nothing to do with you. It's just the other moms.”

“What do they have to do with it?”

“They have been trying to push you and me together all season! They've all got the hots for you, and they want me to tell them everything that goes on between us. If they find out we're dating now, I'll never be able to make it through the rest of the season.” Upon conclusion of her speech, her nerves got the better of her and she looked away.

“I’ll follow your lead on this.” He whispered as he lifted her arm to place a kiss on the back of her hand.

They hadn't noticed that the ride stopped until the attendant cleared his throat. They broke apart and Killian stepped out before helping Emma exit.

Once they were back on solid ground, Killian joined their hands once more. “Let’s find something to eat, shall we?”

He led her to the food section, and they were immediately overwhelmed with the scent of fried cuisine. After perusing their choices, Emma opted for a corn dog while Killian got a slice of truly greasy pizza. They shared some onion rings and had cotton candy for dessert. Having eaten their fill, they headed back toward the midway to try their hand at some games.

The first game they approached was a basketball toss, where they competed to see who could make the most baskets. Emma’s laughs were so beautiful, and Killian found himself distracted during the game, which led to her winning. He didn’t mind very much when he saw her dazzling smile.

Similar to the rides, they proceeded down the aisle, also playing the ball toss, skeeball, and the water gun shooting gallery. The booth at the end of the row housed a balloon pop game, as well as the array of stuffed animals Emma had admired on their way in. She pointed to it again, identifying one of the smaller prizes hanging on the side.

“Look at that bear dressed like a pirate! Is that not the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”

He saw the toy in question, a medium-sized stuffed bear wearing black trousers and shirt, with a red vest and a hook for a hand. It was certainly one of the more unique prizes. He remembered his pledge from earlier to win her a prize and approached the booth.

“What do I need to do in order to win that bear?” he asked the attendant, pointing to it.

“Pop one of the red balloons,” the lad answered. “Five dollars for three darts. Wanna try?”

Killian fished a five dollar-bill out of his pocket and handed it to the young man and was given three rubber tipped darts in return. He felt confident that he would win the prize. He’d always been excellent at darts.

His first throw somehow managed to land between a blue and red balloon. The second hit a red balloon, but bounced off. This mishap helped him to understand the trick. Most of the balloons were not fully inflated, making them harder to pop. Holding his last dart in his right hand, he stepped back slightly and took stock of the entire board. One red balloon, in the upper right hand corner, looked fuller than the rest. He had his target.

He took a few steps to the right and angled his body in line with the balloon. Emma watched him with rapt attention. Killian closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. When he felt conditions were right, he threw the dart with extra force. It whistled through the air and hit the target directly on the head. There was a loud pop and Emma cried out in surprise.

“You did it!”

He smiled at her infectious joy. “I’ll take that bear now, young man.”

The attendant took down the bear and handed it to Killian. He turned and presented it to Emma.

“Thank you! No one has ever won me a prize at the fair before.”

“Truly?”

“I’ve only ever been to the fair before with Henry, so I’m normally the one trying to win the prizes. It’s nice to be on the other end for a change.”

He smiled at her. “Well, I am glad I could win that for you.”

“Me too.” She threaded her arm through his as they continued walking, leaning her head on his shoulder once more.

They decided to walk around to the back of the fair, where live music was playing. As they traveled, he could feel Emma thinking. ‘What’s on your mind, love?”

She stopped walking and gave him a nervous smile. “I hope you’re not mad about what I said on the ferris wheel. About not wanting to tell anyone about us. I’m starting to feel guilty after you’ve given me such a great night.”

“You have no need to feel guilty. I understand your reasons for wanting to keep our relationship under wraps.”

“And you're not mad?”

“Of course not, Emma. As long as we can find a way to see one another, I can deal with everything else.”

She picked up his hand and pressed a firm kiss to the back, mimicking his action from earlier. “The last game is in November, right?”

“Aye, the first Thursday of the month.”

“Okay, as soon as that's over, we'll let everyone know.”

“Sounds like a perfect way to end the season, Swan.” He gave her a goofy grin before leaning down to give her another soft kiss.

Emma huddled into her jacket. It was the last game of the season, and the weather was finally congruent with the date, the early November air having a slight chill. She was enjoying fall, but knew that the winter cold would arrive all too soon. It seemed like their little corner of the south was always too hot or too cold. There weren’t many days that fell in between.

Despite the chill in the air, her spirits were high. The Storybrooke Knights had had a great season, and, if they won this game, they would break a school record for most wins in a season which had been set more than a decade prior. Emma had also found that by making Neal solely responsible for Henry’s football career, he’d begun to step up as a parent in other ways. Henry was becoming more secure in his relationship with his father, which was all she ever really wanted for her son.

But the true source of Emma’s joy was in the form of the team’s coach, currently cheering on his charges from the sidelines. They’d had several more dates, and Emma felt like Killian Jones was someone she could be with for a long time. He was sweet and thoughtful and giving, and just thinking of him warmed her cheeks. They’d told Henry about their relationship a week ago, consigning him to secrecy. Henry was fortunately good at keeping secrets (though she wasn’t sure how she felt about that in the grand scheme of things), so thankfully no one else suspected she was dating Killian. She watched him now and couldn’t stop the thought that she was well on her way to falling in love with this man.

“You know…” she heard Ariel say from her right, “now that the season is over, you should totally ask Coach Jones out.”

“You’re still hung up on that?” Emma asked, not looking away from the field. She had to bite her cheek to stop her sly smile from giving her away.

“Not hung up on it. I just want to see you both happy.”

“Save yourself the trouble, Ariel,” Mary Margaret said, leaning around her sister-in-law to address the redhead. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Emma, it’s that pushing her toward something is the fastest way to get her to reject it.”

“Ohhh,” Ariel replied. “Reverse psychology, huh? I get it.” She paused their discussion to cheer on her daughter, who was going onto the field to kick for a field goal. Melody was an accurate kicker, and sent the ball exactly where it needed to be, giving the Knights the advantage. The stands erupted in cheers. There were five minutes left in the game, and the Knights were up by three.

After a few more plays, the opposing team called a timeout, and Ariel took the chance to continue their discussion. “You totally should not go for Coach Jones, Emma. You two would make a terrible couple.” She winked at Mary Margaret over Emma’s shoulder.

“Wait, what?” Rory asked, returning from a restroom break. ‘We don’t want Emma to hook up with Jones now?”

“Nope,” Ariel replied, a goofy smile on her face. “She shouldn’t even consider it.”

“I am so confused right now,” Rory said, but once more the conversation was stopped when Phil intercepted the ball. He ran it for twenty yards before he was tackled. The clock had run down, and there was one minute left in the game. This would be the last play. The Knights’ offensive line took the field and lined up a play Emma recognized from their scrimmages. Henry was going to get the ball.

The play began, and Henry ran to get into position. The quarterback threw the ball and it sailed down the field, landing smoothly in her son’s arms. He ran. The other team tried to block him, but he used his ability to bob and weave and found holes in the defense they didn’t see. He made it to the end zone just as the clock ticked down to twenty seconds left in the game.

A raucous cheer broke out as fans of the Storybrooke Knights applauded their team. The crowd quieted long enough for Melody to kick the point after, making the final score 17-7. The Knights had won, and the record was broken! Parents and fans cheered loudly as the players graciously shook hands with the opposing team.

Emma ran down the bleachers, and Ariel, Rory, and Mary Margaret called after her to stop. Parents weren’t allowed on the field. But all three of their jaws dropped when Emma stopped at the sideline and ran up to Coach Jones. She cried out in excitement before bouncing up and wrapping her arms around his neck. He reciprocated her embrace, encircling her waist in his arms.

Emma looked up at Killian, love shining in her eyes, and his own reflecting the same. “Congratulations, Coach Jones.”

“Why thank you, Miss Swan. Can I kiss you now?”

“You think you can handle it?” she asked, her smile spreading across her cheeks.

He didn’t respond, but instead lowered his head and captured her lips with his own. The kiss was tender and chaste, a brief intermingling of lips, but still expressing all their passion. He pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. “I think they are the ones who can’t handle it,” he said, enunciating the ‘t’ as he turned his head to gesture toward the three other women still gaping at them.

“They’ll get used to it,” Emma rose up and met his lips once more, but they were cut short when a triumphant cry came from the bleachers.

“I KNEW it!” Ariel called out, pumping her fist in the air.

Emma smiled. “I guess reverse psychology was all it took!” she called out in response.

“Reverse psychology?” Killian asked.

“I’ll tell you later.” They broke apart and threaded their fingers together, ready to join the victorious Storybrooke Knights.

tagging my crew: @artistic-writer @bleebug @cat-sophia @capswantrue@courtorderedcake @distant-rose @flslp87 @gingerchangeling @hollyethecurious @initiala @kmomof4 @kymbersmith-90 @lassluna @let-it-raines @resident-of-storybrooke @rouhn @searchingwardrobes @sherlockianwhovian @shireness-says @snidgetsafan @snowbellewells @spartanguard @teamhook @wellhellotragic @winterbythesea @winterbaby89 @wingedlioness @wyntereyez

#fallforcs 2018 #fall for captain swan #fallforcs #cs ff #Captain Swan

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thislassishooked · 6 years ago

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It’s My Birthday!

I’m celebrating by gifting some of my friends with artwork to go with my Autumn themed fics that I wrote because Fall is almost over and I am going to miss it. The artwork for Feel Again was done by the extremely talented @branlovestowrite. The other two I did on my own. I’m 35 years young today!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16564727 AO3 link

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16565039

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16704463

Tagging everyone who originally reblogged any of these stories. Thanks for your love and happy birthday to me!!!

@ilovemesomekillianjones @hollyethecurious @xemmaloveskillianx @snowbellewells @searchingwardrobes @winterbaby89 @kmomof4 @vvbooklady1256 @darkcolinodonorgasm @laschatzi @bestshipcaptainswan @teamhook @hookedonapirate @gingerchangeling @kingofmyheart14 @captswanis4vr @mcakers @nikkiemms @onceuponaprincessworld @resident-of-storybrooke @thejollyroger-writer @thisisforcs @hookswan25 @kday426 @capswantrue

#fallforcs #fall #it's my birthday #Captain Swan

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athenascarlet · 6 years ago

Text

Sugar Rush

Summary: Emma Swan loves making ice cream – as long as her daily deliveries avoid Killian Jones and his cupcakes as much as possible. She doubts this is going to be the season for her to change her mind about the infuriatingly attractive and frustratingly talented owner of The Jolly Cupcake. But as the leaves change in the fall, is it possible her feelings could also morph into something else? Rating: T Notes: For @fallforcs, originally published as a blind date with a fic so you may have read it! Banner by @nicole-nikla -- thank you! If you like this, I'm also in the middle of the Captain Swan Big Bang so please catch up with Hide Your Love Away on AO3 or FF. I also have published two novels on Amazon. You can buy them here for less than the cost of a grande pumpkin spice latte (or less than a half gallon on Emma’s ice cream and one of Killian’s cupcakes).

Also on AO3 | FF

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

“Emma! Delivery is ready!”

Emma wiped her ice creamed hands on her apron and headed to the back of the store where Ingrid was standing in their kitchen, filling up a cooler with gallons of ice cream. She pulled off the apron and hung it on a nearby hook.

“How did the batches turn out?”

“Amazing, as usual,” Ingrid told her. “I really think your apple cider ice cream will be a hit.”

“I hope so,” she replied. “As long as we don’t get apples from the mayor’s tree, we’ll be fine.”

Ingrid gave her a teasing smile. “You act like they’re poisoned.”

Emma shrugged. “They might be. You never know.”

She was sure they probably weren’t, but the mayor was definitely more sour than sweet so she wasn’t about to test her theory.

Emma threw on her red leather coat and grabbed the cooler from the counter. “Granny’s first, right?”

“Yep! Tell her I said hi!”

Emma nodded and headed out the front door of Any Given Sundae to Granny’s Diner. She always loved walking down Storybrooke’s Main St. at this time of year. After two years here, she finally could call it home, which was something that still caught her off guard at times.

When she was younger, Ingrid had been her foster mother, caring for her as a teenager. But as with most teenagers, Emma had a problem with authority and ran away from Ingrid’s home. She went out on her own, eventually tracking down bail jumpers to make ends meet. It was fine until one in particular busted her arm. She still got her bounty but decided it may be a good time to try something different, and since she was so good at finding people, she decided to find Ingrid.

Her former foster mother had moved to a small town in Maine and opened a store specializing in homemade ice cream made on site. At first, she seemed surprised to see Emma, but quickly gave her a smile and a hug. The next thing Emma knew she was whipping up cream and sugar and whatever else Ingrid had decided to try for customers.

The store sold ice cream staples: chocolate, vanilla, cookies and cream. But it was really known for its more unusual or fun flavors, which brought people in from all over Maine. They were one of the first stores in the state to make cake batter ice cream from scratch, and Emma’s frozen hot chocolate ice cream was a favorite. She often encouraged customers to add a little shake of cinnamon from their toppings bar.

This month, Ingrid had encouraged Emma to come up with some good fall flavors. She whipped up the perfect batches of pumpkin spice ice cream and candied pecan ice cream. She also found some amazing apples at the local orchard and used them to create an amazing apple cider ice cream. It was just like drinking the real thing.

“This is the best one you’ve ever made,” Ingrid said when Emma finally let her try the recipe.

They quickly sold out of the first few batches, including a few gallons that Granny ordered for the diner.

Granny was one of their best customers, always putting in an order for gallons of vanilla ice cream to go along with her pies. The unique flavors were also a hit with customers who got a scoop included as part of the dinner special.

Emma’s feet crunched on the dry leaves in Granny’s courtyard, which made her smile. She swung the door open and walked in, taking a quick look at what the miners sitting at the counter were eating for lunch. Lots of lasagna, a few grilled cheeses, and Leroy’s heaping bowl of orange sherbert. He was definitely their best customer.

She headed back to the kitchen window where Granny was placing orders with the kitchen staff.

“Thank God you’re here,” she told Emma. “We just ran out of vanilla. I thought a cupcake/ice cream combo would be a hit, but it was way too popular at lunch today.”

Emma gave her a perplexed look. “What kind of combo?” she asked.

“Delicious cupcakes with ice cream, Swan! In fact, I’m here to drop off a new batch myself.”

Emma scowled. She recognized that voice and was not surprised when she turned to see its owner leaning against the counter with a smug grin on his face next to Granny’s cake plate stocked full of cupcakes.

Killian Jones.

She had no idea why the cupcake store owner insisted on wearing all black. It seemed so impractical for a cake maker who was constantly around flour and sugar, but he made it look effortless. Emma was always picking sugar out of her hair or cleaning spilled cream off her clothes. His clothes were immaculate and made her mouth water.

She would never tell him that second part. Because honestly, everyone knew that man was gorgeous. But not everyone recognized the feud there was between Any Given Sundae and The Jolly Cupcake. Hell, even Ingrid thought Emma’s belief that The Jolly Cupcake was a rival was overblown.

“Sweet treats can co-exist in this town,” Ingrid once told her. “I don’t know why you have such a grudge against one of them.”

Because one of them was run by an infuriating man. He was gorgeous and successful and, dammit, his cupcakes were amazing. His flavors were special and perfectly balanced between the cake and the icing. It was annoying.

He was annoying.

Emma gave the smiling baker a once over and sighed. “Jones.”

“What did you bring with you today, Swan?” He swaggered over and pushed into her personal space. “I do hope it’s deletable.”

Emma just rolled her eyes. “Of course, it is. I made it.” Her eyes darted over to the cake plate on the counter. “What about you?”

“Delightful as always,” he said with a wicked smile. “Would you like to try a maple brown sugar cupcake? Or perhaps a dark chocolate one with cinnamon icing? I hear it’s a favorite of yours.”

Emma’s mouth was watering from the cupcakes and Killian’s voice was heating up other parts of her body. Dammit, why did a rival who pressed her buttons have to be so delicious as he did it?

“They sound fine.”

Emma grabbed the empty cooler sitting in the pick-up window from the kitchen and started to head out.

“I thought we were sharing, lass?” Killian asked as she walked by. “What new concoction did you whip up?”

“Ice cream,” she yelled back.

“Sounds tasty! I can’t wait to lick it up!”

Emma was thankful to hear the door close behind her as she pushed her way into the chilled fall day outside. She needed a little air to cool off after that meeting with Killian.

Of course, she was going to go back to Granny’s and try that chocolate cupcake with cinnamon icing. What kind of person wouldn’t want that? But there was no way in hell she was ever going to tell Killian she did it. Just like there was no way she was ever going to tell him about her taste tests of several other flavors she quietly snuck out of Granny’s Diner over the past few months. It would be better to not inflate his ego anymore than it already was.

xxx

Apparently, today was not Emma’s day. As soon as she got back to the store, Ingrid sent her out on another ice cream run, this time to Hansel and Gretel’s candy shop. She had no problem with the brother-and-sister duo, probably because neither of them was as infuriatingly attractive as Killian Jones.

Which is why she was so frustrated when she ran into him -- literally -- as she was leaving the candy shop.

“Careful with the cupcakes, Swan. You wouldn’t want to smash my treats.” He leaned in and gave her a wicked grin. “Or perhaps you would.”

Emma rolled her eyes. Infuriating.

(Also, she wouldn’t mind smashing his treats. Also, that made her frustrated. Again.)

But there was one place where she could really throw him off his game: The Rabbit Hole.

Emma smiled as the bar’s owner, Liam Jones, poured his creamy concoction into two glasses, adding straws to both of them.

“OK, let me know what you think of that,” he said as he grabbed his own off the bar.

It only took a few sips before Emma moaned in delight. “This is amazing, Liam.”

“Hey!”

Emma smiled. Once again, she recognized the voice. “Hey, Killian. What’s up?”

He put down a large white baker’s box on the bar and pulled the bar stool out from right next to her. “Don’t ‘what’s up’ me, Swan. What are you doing here?”

“Just drinking.”

Her lips curled dramatically around the straw again and she took another drink. She could tell it had the effect she wanted on Killian. His eyes trailed down to her mouth, his jaw did that thing where he flexed it whenever he was tense. She could play this game all night.

“Here, try this, brother.”

Liam put a glass down in front of Killian and poured some more of his experiment into it. Killian gave the glass an odd look and then did as he was told, his long lashes fluttering shut as he drank.

“Bloody hell,” he finally said. “What is that?”

“An apple pie. It’s apple cider ice cream from Any Given Sundae mixed with vanilla vodka. It’s great, right?”

Killian’s ecstacy turned into a scowl as he looked at Emma. “Are you turning my brother against me now?”

She just shrugged. “I saw a business opportunity.”

She leaned over and drank more, keeping her eyes focused on Killian as his did that thing where they lingered on her lips again. Was this really what their relationship had come to? Trading jabs over ice cream cocktails at a bar?

And yet, after the day Emma had, she didn’t mind it. She liked teasing him like this. In fact, she liked alot of things about him. She liked the way he responded to her teasing. She liked the way he smiled at her comebacks. She was definitely impressed with how he looked in that black outfit of his, no matter how infuriating it was that he could keep it so clean.

Killian finally cleared his throat to gain some composure. “Well, if you want to talk business, Swan.”

He gave her one his trademark eyebrow raises and reached over to the box next to him. He lifted the lid just high enough for Emma to see all the cupcakes inside. They all looked amazing. Killian’s decorating skills were ridiculous. Then he set a dark cupcake down in front of her.

“Winter ale cupcake with a stout frosting. Tell me what you think.”

“Really?” she asked skeptically.

He seemed undeterred, giving her a warm smile in return. “Go ahead, and be brutally honest. I know you won’t hold back.”

“And not to sway you one way or another,” Liam said. “But we sold out of yesterday’s batch in an hour.”

She looked at the bartender, who simply smiled and grabbed the box of cupcakes off the bar and took them to the back. Emma turned to the cupcake, pulling the wrapper down to expose the moist cake inside. It looked amazing -- fluffy and light with just the right amount of frosting. Some cupcake makers added too much frosting, but Killian had a knack for getting the right balance. Dammit again, it was so annoying that he was so good at this. And he opened the shop only six months ago! Crazy prodigy baker always dressed in black.

She stared at the cupcake a bit longer and then finally took a bite. Damn, it was good. Great flavors that weren’t overwhelming. The frosting and cake complimenting each other so well. If she wasn’t being watched, she would’ve quickly stuffed the rest of it in her mouth at once.

But she was being watched. She couldn’t see his eyes -- she was still staring at the cupcake. But she could feel his glare. He was anticipating her response. Because for as much as they teased each other, as much as they were at odds -- whether true or exaggerated -- there was a mutual respect between them when it came to their crafts. Emma could give him some snarky comment in response, or she could just tell the truth.

She looked up to see him staring at her in anticipation. She couldn’t tease him about these.

“This is amazing.”

His face broke out into a huge smile. “Be honest, Swan. Do you really like them?”

She rolled her eyes. “It pains me to say it, but I honestly do.”

“Better or worse than the chocolate with the cinnamon frosting?”

“Couldn’t tell you. Never had one of those.”

She took another bite, the cake and frosting melting together in her mouth.

“That’s a lie,” Killian teased. “Granny said you bought half a dozen from her.”

Emma stopped eating as she stared at the man next to her. She loved Granny dearly, but that woman sold her out and told Killian her secret. And yes, she had in fact bought out all of Granny’s inventory of the chocolate cupcakes with cinnamon frosting. They were delicious. So what? “Emma, you’ve got some frosting…”

His voice trailed off as he motioned on his face to a spot near his lips. She swiped at the spot, but it only caused Killian to laugh at her more.

“Hold on, let me help.”

“This is your fault,” she said. “You put too much frosting on this one.”

He didn’t have to say anything. The disbelieving look on his face said it all.

“OK, fine. It had the right amount of frosting.”

“Thank you,” he said as he reached for her. “And for the record, your apple cider ice cream is mind blowing.”

She could only stare at him. Mind blowing? He thought her ice cream was mind blowing? Wow. That was… quite the compliment from the cupcake king.

He swiped at the frosting on her face, his fingers warm against her cheek. “There,” he said quietly.

But instead of pulling away, his hand pulled her closer, his breath against her face. Then he kissed her. It was warm and gentle and sweet. So sweet. The buttercream frosting from the cupcake mixed with the apple cider ice cream on his lips. It was like kissing a heaven full of fall flavors.

He pulled away slightly, an awkward smile teasing at the corners of his lips. “Sorry, lass. I don’t know what came over me.”

She shook her head, trying to clear out the fog that seemed to have settled over her brain. “Um, it’s OK. It’s fine. Well, more than fine. It was, uh… Well, this cupcake is pretty magical or whatever I guess.”

The tension in Killian’s shoulders disappeared, his swagger back but with a genuine warmth in his smile.

“I’m glad you like it.” He leaned over and took another drink from his apple pie cocktail. “This, by the way, is bloody amazing.”

“Do you like it?” she asked. “It was actually Liam’s idea. He came into our shop after he had some of our ice cream at Granny’s.”

“Liam has a knack for finding new flavors for the bar.”

Emma looked down at her half eaten cupcake and smiled. Maybe Liam wasn’t the only one who could try new flavors. Maybe it was time for Emma to try something new, starting with Killian Jones.

She turned to Killian and smiled. “So were the winter ale cupcakes Liam’s idea?”

“Of course,” he replied in a dejected tone. “And he hasn’t let me forget it.”

Killian started talking about Liam’s ideas for spiked egg nog cupcakes for Christmas and Irish Creme cupcakes for St. Patrick’s Day. He talked about the bad batches he still made on occasion that would crumble instead of stick together. Emma suggested maybe using the broken cupcakes in a vanilla base for a new ice cream flavor. Then she talked about the latest cake batter flavors they were trying for the ice cream with Killian giving her tips on different ways to mix the ingredients she was using.

And sometime after midnight, he walked her out to her car and kissed her again, and his lips were just as sweet as before.

#cs ff #fallforcs #captain swan #delicious delights #fall foods #once upon a time #fanfic

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onceuponaprincessworld · 6 years ago

Text

Am I Your Girlfriend?

Hi, I wrote a fic!! I know I am as suprised as probably you are! I still can’t believe it. I would like to thank @fallforcs, the anonimity of this event gave me the push I needed to publish my little story!

I would like to thank my wonderful beta reader @hookedonapirate for all the help and support, without her this story would never have seen the light of day.

Also a big thank you to @liloproductions, my amazing artist for creating the banner for the story, I love it!

And a big thank you to everyone who had read it and for all your sweet comments, you guys are the best!!

Also on Ao3 and FFN.

Summary: Emma never thought that she would stay for long in that new sleepy town, she was a foster kid after all. She also didn't expect to fall in love, but here we are.

Rating: G, there is kissing.

She doesn’t know how it happened, but she is in love with Killian Jones!

It all started in September, the first day of school.

She was the new kid, and she tried to keep to herself and stay out of everyone’s way. Well, she tried, but she didn’t really succeed. Because she literally fell in someone’s arms.

“Oh, steady there,” he said in a british accent.

“Sorry.” Emma tried to go around him and leave.

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled. “Are you new? I haven’t seen you before.”

“Yeah, first day actually,” she answered rather awkwardly.

“Then let me introduce myself - Killian Jones, sophomore.”

“Emma, Emma Swan. Also a sophomore.”

“Pleased to meet you,” he beamed at her. “Do you need any help getting around?”

“No, I am good,” she replied and left him alone at the hallway.

She thought that was the last she would see of him. But boy, was she wrong. It turned out, they had all the same classes. Like all of them. From Math, and English to History and Chemistry.

So, yeah, it wasn’t really her fault that they started hanging out. How could she not when they spent all of their time in school together?

On the plus side he fit in well with her small group of friends. Ruby, who she met in gym class and had become something like her best girlfriend. The raven haired teen thought he was funny and good to look at, and it didn't hurt that she had her eyes for his friend, Victor. Even Graham, who helped her find her English class and who she started to consider as a friend, though he was okay, and he was never easy to accept new people.

Eventually, they started to see each other outside of school as well. He took her to all of his favorite places around Storybrooke - Granny’s for milkshakes and onion rings, the movies because “Come on Swan, they’re playing a Harry Potter marathon,” and the docks to watch the boats. “They are ships, Swan.”

They were becoming fast friends, but that’s it, nothing more. Friends who spent all of their free time together or with their shared group of friends. And they liked hanging out with each other, and sharing their hopes and dreams and their pasts. Which was a first for Emma.

As the weather became colder, they spent all their time at Killian’s place. Emma’s foster parents were nice; Mary Margaret and David were doing their best to make her feel at home. But still, she liked to hang out at Killian’s house better. He lived with his big brother, Liam, who worked a lot, so it was usually the two of them. They watched movies, snuggling on the couch, doing their homework and having dinner together.

When Liam and his girlfriend Elsa, were home, they all hung out together. They played board games or cooked. Her favorite pastime was watching Liam teasing Killian, like when he called him “little brother” and Killian corrected him, but he did so while smiling. She knew they cared a lot about each other because it was just the two of them.

To top it off, she didn't feel like an intruder in their home; they always made sure she was comfortable and included. Emma felt at home there; she felt safe. She didn’t know why yet, but she was about to figure it out.

During their Christmas break, she went to his house to hang out like usual. They were supposed to study as well since they had some math problems, and Emma could use his help for that. Math wasn’t her favorite subject.

Liam opened the door and welcomed her in.

“Hi Emma,” he greeted with a smile. “Killian is upstairs in his room. I will get him for you.”

“Thanks, Liam.” She moved to get her shoes off, hearing Liam calling from upstairs, “Killian, your girlfriend is here”.

She froze. Girlfriend? When did Killian got a girlfriend? Why hadn't he said anything to her? Who was she? A sudden feeling of jealousy started taking over her. Did Ruby know? Was it Ruby? No, it couldn't be. She was dating Victor.

Suddenly, she remembered an incident that happened at school before the break. Killian was on his way to his locker, and she went to surprise him when he stopped to talk to Tink, the cute blonde from history class who always wore mini skirts. Was she his girlfriend?

Just then Killian was coming down the stairs with a grin on his face.

“Hi love, I thought we could watch a movie or we could go out for a hot chocolate at Granny’s.”

Emma was still standing by the door, so he approached her and touched her arm. “Swan, are you okay?”

She tried to smile and nod when the realisation hit her.

Liam was referring to her as his girlfriend.

She felt relief for a moment and then shock. Was she his girlfriend? Well sure, they spent all their time together, he always watched after her, she cared about him a lot, and yeah she loved him, but girlfriend? Realization hit her like a brick.

She loved him! She did love him. She was completely and totally in love with him.

Now that she’s able to admit it to herself, where does she go from here? She doesn’t know what to do.

She smiles at him and replies, “Yeah sure, let’s just watch a movie.” She spends the whole time thinking about it.

Killian senses she is distracted, but he knows sometimes she needs space before she can talk to him, and he accepts it.

By next week, she is still distracted and she keeps avoiding him.

He knows she went out with Ruby two days ago, because Victor came over to play video games and he told him. He even joked, asking him if they were having trouble in paradise. It’s not like they are a couple and they have to always be together or inform the other when one of them is having other plans, but they always talk about their plans.

He knows it’s just him she is avoiding. On the one hand, he is relieved she has her friend to talk to, but it still hurts that she doesn’t talk to him.

So he decides to confront her. He goes to her place, but she isn’t there. Her foster mom told him she went for a walk, so he knows there is only one place she could be.

It turns out, she is there, sitting on a bench by the lake, where he took her the first time they hung out, just the two of them, and he wanted to take her to all of his favorite places around town.

He stays for a moment admiring her from a distance, she is wearing a red coat and jeans, her hair is loose and she looks stunning. He takes a deep breath and starts walking towards her.

“Hey Swan, I thought I might find you here. Is everything alright?” he asks when he is at a hearing distance.

She jumps a bit at his voice. She was so lost in her thoughts, she didn’t heard him coming. She quickly recovers and answers.“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” She then gives him a fake smile.

“It’s just that we haven’t seen each other a lot this week and I have a feeling you are avoiding me” he admits, and there is a hint of pain in his voice.

She hurt him, but she doesn’t want to hurt him. She loves him, and she doesn’t know if he feels the same.

“Everything is fine, Jones. It’s just a bit busy with the holidays and stuff.”

“All right then,” he murmurs, and she knows he doesn’t believe her. He always was able to read her like an open book. “Are we still on for New Years?”

They had made plans some time ago. He and Liam would go to her place and spend New Year’s Eve with her family. And on New Years they would all share dinner together.

Her foster parents had invited them over after Thanksgiving when they found out that it would be just the two of them. Mary Margaret said with the time they spent together, it would be rude to separate them on such a holiday, and Liam had accepted their invitation since he wasn’t much of a cook.

“Yes, my foster parents are all over the preparations. You should see how many recipes Mary Margaret has searched through in order to find the perfect one for a New Year’s pie.”

“Okay. What do you want to do now?” he asks, afraid she prefers to stay there alone.

“Am I your girlfriend?” she blurts out, and manages to leave him speechless.

“Uh… hem...” he coughs. “Excuse me, Swan?”, he says while scratching behind his ear.

“It’s just that… nothing. Forget about it,” she says and turns around to get up and leave. But Killian is quicker and puts his hand on her arm before she does so.

“Emma, please don’t hide from me. Do you want to be my girlfriend?” he asks with a shy smile and his heart is beating so fast he thinks it might explode.

“Liam called me your girlfriend the other day. So am I?”

“Do you want to be?”

She doesn’t meet his eyes, and instead she looks at her hands in her lap

“Because I would want nothing more than to be able to call you my girlfriend. To be able to kiss you as I’ve thought about so many times before. To hold your hand and hold you in my arms. You are so beautiful, Emma, inside and out, and…”

He doesn’t get to finish his thoughts before Emma leaps forward and kisses him. It takes him a moment to react, and he kisses her back, as he’s dreamt of doing so many times before.

When they break the kiss and touch their foreheads together, he asks breathlessly. “So, what do you say Swan, am I your boyfriend?”

Her “Yes” is answered between kisses.

8 Years later:

They exchange vows at the very same lake where they shared their first kiss. Mary Margaret and David, her now adoptive parents are sitting near Liam and his wife, Elsa. Their friends are all there to witness this important moment of their lives.

After the minister pronounced them husband and wife, just before Killian bends his head to kiss her, he whispers, “Am I your husband, Swan?”

Her answer is once again swallowed by his kiss.

And she couldn’t be happier that she is madly in love with Killian Jones.

The End.

#cs ff #cs fic #cs fanfiction #cs au #fallforcs #captain swan #cs fanfics #cs fanart #cs fanfic #captain swan ff #my fic

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thejollyroger-writer · 6 years ago

Text

Tricks & Treats

Art by: @branlovesouat - which is perfect and excellent and perfectly captures parts of this story. The way Emma and Killian are looking at each other, the smiles on Henry and Alice’s faces--it’s just perfect!

Author: flamboyantanaconda surprise, it’s me!! I absolutely loved being part of this event and getting to share this story with everyone in a blind date format for the first time ever. The story started out as a tiny little one-shot, and then everyone started having feelings and very emotional back stories and suddenly turned into y favorite thing I’ve ever written. Thanks to the mods for putting this perfect event together and helping us spread our love of Captain Swan!

Rated G—general audiences. Just a cute, fluffy Halloween-themed one-shot

Wanna read me on AO3 instead?

SUMMARY:

This will be Alice Jones’ first Halloween since moving to Storybrooke from England, and spending time with Henry Swan is the only positive she can see in joining the Storybrooke Elementary tradition of trick-or-treating together, but the only way she will go is if he father, retired soccer player Killian Jones, agrees to come with her. Because Killian will do anything for his daughter, he finds himself at Henry Swan’s front door dressed in his old pirate costume—but the blonde witch that he meets makes up for any embarrassment he may have felt. Will the Jones family’s first Halloween in Storybrooke be filled with tricks, or treats?

“Please, papa,” she pleads, sitting in front of him on the floor as he brushes her hair. “I told Henry that I would go with him, but I’m scared. What if I do it wrong? The girls in the class already don’t like me, and this would just give them a reason to be meaner.”

Killian can’t help but let out the small laugh that fills his chest with Alice’s statement. “Listen, starfish, I know you’re nervous, but I’m fairly sure that there’s not a wrong way to trick-or-treat.”

“Well, if there is, surely I would be the one to learn it the hard way!”

“Alice, darling, all you need to do is to ask your friend Henry. After everything you have told me about him, I feel confident that he will give you any assistance you may need, and will probably even do so before we leave his house.”

“But what if he doesn’t?! What if he just—just assumes that I know what I’m doing, doesn’t even stop to think that I’ve never done this before, and then I’ll embarrass myself in front of him! Oh! , I wouldn’t be able to get over that! I would never be able to leave the house ever again!”

“You should never be too embarrassed to ask for help, especially from a boy as charming and understanding as this Henry of yours.”

She whips her head around to face him, almost taking the hairbrush with her, and when her bright blue eyes meet his, they are filled with excitement, adventure and… something else that Killian cannot quite place.

“You should just come with me, papa! I know you still have that pirate costume that you would wear with the team for Halloween visits. I’ve seen it in your closet! You could just put on your costume, and come with me to Henry’s, make sure I don’t make a complete fool of myself, and then—and then I’ll have a reason not to go to Gina’s Halloween party!”

“I thought you already told Henry that you would go with him to the party?”

But Alice ignores his question, her words already flying from her at a mile a minute. “Who holds a party every Halloween, anyway? And why does it have to be the mayor’s daughter? The mayor’s daughter, who she named after herself, by the way! And what do they do when Halloween isn’t on a Friday? When it’s on a school night? Or a Sunday night? Because everyone knows they’re the worst nights to stay up late since nobody ever wants to get up on Monday, after being able to sleep in the two days beforehand.” She pushes herself up off the floor, straightens out the white apron tied over her light blue dress, and begins pacing in front of him. “And, yes, I did already tell Henry that I would go with him to this party, but that doesn’t mean I have to! I am only ten years old, so I shouldn’t be expected to keep every promise I make, but I know that it would be so much better if you came with me! At least to Henry’s, and to the first few houses until I get the hang of what it is I’m supposed to do!” She turns to him to see him smiling up at her from his position on the floor, and huffs, a frown taking over her very expressive face. “Come on, papa! I don’t see how this is funny.”

If he was completely honest with himself, Killian would agree that he, too, does not know why it’s funny. Because, of course, his daughter is the most important thing in his life, and damned if he wouldn’t do anything for her.

Even if that means pulling the pirate costume out of the back of his closet, reliving the days when he and the rest of the team would don these ridiculous outfits and visit the children’s hospital.

Back when he was part of something, part of a team.

Back when he was a whole man.

Back before the accident.

In place of his prosthetic hand, he slides the hook over the stump of his left arm, a gift, half-joke, half-serious, from his best friend and starting forward, Will Scarlett, perhaps the only player on the team that was more of a star than he was. Running his fingers over the cool metal, he can almost hear Will’s voice as he opened the package: “Now Captain Jones can be Captain Hook!” Will thought it was the funniest thing he’d ever said, but the rest of the team didn’t quite agree, though Killian couldn’t help but laugh.

That was the day he decided to retire, especially making his rounds and trying to play other positions, obviously no longer able to be the goalie he has spent his career working to be. After Liam was injured on his deployment, then losing his Milah in the same accident that took his hand, the team was the only thing keeping him in England. The very next day, he and Alice sat down and made a list of the things they want from their next adventure, their next home.

That was the first leg of the journey that started two years ago and led them to Storybrooke, Maine.

Seeing him standing in front of the mirror, completely costumed from head to hook, Alice lets out a squeal of delight. “Papa, look at you! You even found the hook from Uncle Will!”

Repressing the memories that the costume brought up, he turns around her and smiles. “You like it, starfish?”

“Of course I do, papa!” she squeals again, wrapping her arms around his waist, proving to him that every moment he spends in this outfit tonight is completely worth it.

“Are you sure this is the house, love?” Killian asks, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He has no idea why he is as nervous as he seems to be, but he can feel his heart pounding in his chest, hear it in his ears.

“This is where Henry told me he lived,” she says, her voice small from the passenger seat next to him, and when he turns to face her, he watches as he wrings her hands in her lap. “But it—it doesn’t look like anyone’s home…”

Killian had seen his daughter upset before—because of course he had, she’s ten years old and gets upset. But this is a whole new level of upset to him, skipping straight over crying right to shaking, seeing himself in her more and more. Because he, too, is fuming, angry that anyone would have the audacity to treat his Alice like this. From the rest of the stories she had told him about this Henry, he seemed like a nice, polite boy—but anyone that pulls a stunt like this, letting her get excited just to let her down, is neither nice nor polite.

“Alice, dear,” he starts, definitely not looking forward to breaking her heart, but before he can continue, they hear the door to the house across the street slam shut, followed by the voice of a young boy screaming Alice’s name.

“Henry!” Alice almost does not get the word out before she is out of the car, rushing across the street to where the young boy in a knight’s costume meets her, wrapping his arms around her in a soft hug.

“Thank the Lord,” Killian breathes, shutting off his engine before climbing out of the Chevelle.

“Papa, papa, meet Henry!”

He looks exactly like Killian thought a ten-year-old named Henry should look, with dark eyes and a mop of dark brown hair and cheeks just chubby enough to still be classified as cute.

“Henry, my boy! How nice to finally meet you. You know, lad, I’ve heard so much about you through my Alice.”

“It really is nice to meet you, too, Mr. Jones.”

“Henry!” He hears her voice from the porch, and it is the first time he really takes in just how extremely decked out the house is, like Christmas turned orange. Orange lights line the porch, the roof, the windows, with lit-up Jack-o-lanterns lining the walkway and the wooden porch. But the kicker, the real central piece of the whole ensemble is a large, blow-up vampire Mickey Mouse, centered in the front yard.

But as soon as she pushes through the large wooden door out onto the porch, Killian’s attention is no longer on the decorations. She is, without a doubt, and without any nods to the cliche, the most beautiful woman Killian had ever seen, even dressed as a witch, with a knee-length black dress, black-and-white striped tights, and even the pointed witch hat. The lights from the porch, both the regular and the string of bright orange ones, accentuate the curls falling over her shoulders, brighten every contour of her perfect face.

“Henry, please get out of the middle of the street!” she calls again, crossing her arms over her chest, and then realizes that, though her ten-year-old is in the middle of the street, he is not alone, and Killian corrals them back onto the decor-covered lawn, then makes his own way to the porch.

“Sorry, love,” he says, his voice soft, and he is thankful for the cover of darkness, for he feels the heat rising to the tips of his ears. “You know how ten-year-olds love to play in the street.”

When she smiles at him, illuminated by the harsh lights of the porch and the holiday, he can swear he feels his heart stop beating, even if only for a moment or two.

“Well, of course. They wouldn’t be children if they played anywhere else.”

When he is almost face-to-face with her, standing on the sidewalk while she is on the step, he feels her eyes really take him in, head-to-toe; but Killian Jones is nothing if not a gentleman, and as much as he wants to let the urge to do the same to her, his eyes stay locked on her face, even when momentarily covered by the brim of her witch’s hat.

“You must be Alice’s dad,” she says finally, her eyes meeting his again, eyes that sparkle the brightest emerald green he has ever seen, even in the orange lights of Halloween. “Mister Jones?”

“Please, love, call me Killian. You’re Henry’s mother, then? Ms. Swan?”

“If you’re going to call me anything, then call me Emma, because I am not your love.”

This time, when the heat rises to his cheeks, he hopes the orange lights of the porch cover for him, though somehow he feels it does not.

“Of course, Miss Swan. I meant no harm.”

The smile she flashes him this time is less authentic than the first one, and he wishes more than anything that he had not offended her so quickly, starting off on the wrong foot. “Of course not.”

He is dumbfounded, unsure of what to say next in hopes of never, ever, insulting her again, and the silence in the conversation is heading towards awkward before it is perfectly saved by the curious ten-year-olds, specifically Henry.

“Mr. Jones!” he yells excitedly, running up to him through the yard, though his movement is slightly awkward, weighed down by the plastic armour of his costume. “Your costume is so cool! You look like a real pirate!”

“Well, thank you, lad. It better look bloody real, with all the money I spent on it.”

“Did you buy it just for tonight?”

“No, no, I bought it in England, when the team and I used to visit the children’s hospital for Halloween. I’m assuming Alice has told you what I did in England?”

“Goalie on the Chelsea team! That’s so cool!” Even with his excitement, taking in the detail on Killian’s costume, the stitching in the leather and embroidery on the vest, Killian doesn’t miss when his eyes stop on the hook for more than a few moments, and the soft intrigue in his eyes when they meet his again. “But what about your hook? She told me about—about your hand, but is the hook where you put the fake one? And how did it happen?”

Killian opens his mouth to speak, ready to tell the same story he used to tell the children at the hospital, and at the games, when they asked him the very same question, but Emma beats him to it, yelling out to her son before Killian can even begin.

“Henry David Swan! You do not ask people questions like that! Apologize to him, right now!”

He wants to correct her, assure her that Henry asking him is far from a problem for him, but he has already gone too far once; he does not want to add to it by going back on her yelling at her son. So, instead, he waits for Henry’s apology, given softly from a truly embarrassed ten-year-old, before turning around to Emma and offering her a soft smile.

“I appreciate your apology, lad, but you’re definitely not the first young man to ask me about my injury.” He leans down, finding himself on his level. “However, it is only to the most polite of boys that I tell the real story of what happened, because there’s a not-so-noble knight involved, and I don’t very much like reliving the tale unless they’re asked very, very nicely.”

Henry’s eyes go wide, a smile growing to take over his face, and he almost begins jumping up and down when he pleads, “Please, Mr. Jones! Please, please, please!”

Killian stands up again, searching for Emma out of the corner of his eye, and he is pleased to find that the scowl on her face has grown to the beginnings of a smile as he starts the story that he has not told since he moved to America..

“About two years ago when I was playing in England, I got into this argument with a gentleman after one of the games. And I thought we had settled the whole thing—looking back, I don’t even remember what the argument was about, that’s how trivial the whole thing was—until one day, he showed up to my practice dressed all in armour, very much like yours, except his was made of metal, of course. He approaches me on the sidelines and draws a very, very large sword. Now, thankfully, I decided to also bring my sword with me to practice that day, or else he may have ended up taking more than just my hand from me. He approaches me on the field, stops the entire practice to do so, and challenges me to a fight, a move which is rather unfair, given I’m in my football uniform and not a full suit of armour like he is, but little does he know that I am actually a talented and practiced swordsman. So we spar, a process that begins to take over the whole field. He advances on me, I parry back and take the lead again, over and over, back and forth, for what feels like hours. And then, of all things, I wind up right on top of the ball and it catches under feet, and I fall over it, right to the ground. I think, oh no, this is going to be the end! I hold up my sword, trying to block the blow I know he is going to deliver, but the bugger misses my sword and hits me straight on the wrist, cuts it clean off! I thought he was going to take the final blow, take his revenge on whatever argument we had a few days before, but apparently taking my appendage from me is enough for him, because he sheaths his sword and walks right off the field, like nothing ever happened!”

Killian’s recalled this story to children of all ages in the two years since he found himself without a hand, but he is almost entirely sure that no child has ever reacted as strongly to it as Henry Swan does, eyes wide, tossing his toy sword aside as if it was poisoning his hand, or like it would make Killian relive the terror of losing his hand to an (albeit imaginary) sword fight.

No one speaks, not even Alice, who has heard his rendering at least a dozen times. She is smiling at Henry, as humored by his response as Killian is. Finally, it is Emma who breaks the awestruck silence of the yard.

“Well, kids, you better start soon if you want to get to all the houses before you have to be at the Mills house!”

Killian turns to Alice, still smiling at Henry. “She has a point, starfish. We should get ready to go.”

“We?” Henry asks, turning to Killian, obviously confused, and Alice sets her hand on Killian’s arm.

It is at this moment that Killian realizes the other emotion hidden in Alice’s eyes as they got ready to go: mischief.

“Actually, papa, I changed my mind. Henry and I can go together, and you can stay here with Miss Emma!”

Shaking his head at his daughter, far too smart to only be ten years old, he sighs deeply, letting out a short laugh. “Whatever you want, starfish.”

“Great! I’ll see you later, papa!” she says quickly, wrapping her arms around him in a brief hug before turning on her heel and practically running in the opposite direction, her arm linked with Henry’s.

Killian watches her walk away for as long as he can before she turns to head down the block and out of his sight. When his only distraction is finally out of his sight, he turns his eyes back to Emma, looking up at her through his eyelashes for just a moment as his hand shoots up to scratch the spot behind his right ear, and lets out a long, deep breath, trying to take as much time as he can before he has to speak to her.

“Well,” he says slowly, awkwardly, hitting his fist against the side of his leg. “If she—if she doesn’t want me to go with her anymore, I can… I guess I’ll just head home.”

His eyes find hers for another moment, quickly trying to find a reason to stay even though he just excused himself. They hold for a moment, neither of them daring to move even a muscle, but she breaks first as a slow, soft smile makes its way across her face.

“Alice is just going to come back here with Henry when she’s done, so if you want to—if you want to stay, help me hand out candy and drink beer by the fire, I, uh,” Her eyes meet his again, and her smile grows when he returns it. “I wouldn’t mind.”

His right hand scratches behind his ear again, pulling at the hair there that has gotten a little long. “Are you sure?”

She takes a step back, onto the porch, and opens the front door, gesturing for him to go inside before her. “Definitely.”

The inside of the house is just as decorated as the outside, and he wants to be surprised, but he finds that he’s not. The house is just as silent as the conversation between him and Emma, so he uses this as the opening thought, hoping it blossoms into more.

“So, Miss Swan, you must really enjoy Halloween then?” he asks with a chuckle, and when she turns around to face him, her face riddled with confusion, he gestures around him, to all of the Halloween decorations.

“Oh,” she says, smiling back at him through a particularly low purple spider web hanging down from a doorway. "This is my brother’s house, actually, and his wife.”

“So then your brother is the Halloween aficionado?”

“His wife. Mary Margaret, the kindergarten teacher. She’s a little….” her voice trails off, trying to find the right word.

“Eccentric?” Killian asks, smiling at her while she pulls two bottles of beer from the fridge, handing one to him.

She returns his smile. “Yeah, eccentric is a good word for it, actually. You think Halloween is a big deal, you should come back for Christmas.”

“Of course, love, I can imagine,” he comments, following her through a door that leads into the garage. Though it smells like it usually houses an old car, its normal occupant is gone, replaced instead with a… Killian’s brain even takes a moment to find the right word for it.

Halloween wonderland. The phrase he decides on is Halloween wonderland.

“I’m not your love,” she says again, this time more under her breath, and it completely ruins whatever rapport they have going on between them. He has to pay more attention to that.

If he thought the front yard was overkill, the garage has died twice over. The matte gray walls all covered— covered— floor to ceiling with orange, white, and purple spider webs, embellished with fake plastic spiders, bats, and pumpkins. The back wall has ghost silhouettes hiding within the webs, the wall farthest from the door lined with witches, plus a table covered with a dozen real, candlelit Jack o-lanterns. But, in the center of the room, lies the real focal point of the decor, almost enough to take anyone’s focus from the rest of the garage: a shining golden cauldron, at least five feet tall, with a solid bottom half and a grate around the top, plus a door to let users into the inside of it.

Or, Killian thinks, the most extreme overkill of a cauldron he has ever had the pleasure to lay his eyes on. As he fills the space between himself and it, Emma opens the garage door, letting in the cold air of the October evening, revealing to Killian just how warm the garage has become. She turns to him in just enough time to watch him stretch his hand out toward the cauldron as he realizes why the garage is so warm: the cauldron is a fire ring—one which already was a small but heat-emitting fire churning in the bottom of it.

“I wouldn’t -” she starts, but he is already pulling his hand away, and when he turns to her with wide blazing blue eyes, she can’t help but let out a soft chuckle.

“ Bloody hell,” he mumbles, taking a step back to really take in what he is seeing before him.

“I told you, Jones, my sister-in-law really likes decorations.”

Nodding, his eyes are still wide and fixed on the cauldron. “I, uh… yes, I see that.” He lets out a breath, then takes a few sips of his beer, cringing as it before finally taking his eyes off the fire ring again.

“Help me with these chairs?” she asks, and when he turns to her, she is gesturing towards a pair of wooden rocking chairs, which were against the garage door and blended in before.

“Of course, love,” he answers, immediately damning himself for the use of the endearment. “I’ll lend you a hand.” He means nothing of the unintended pun, but as he lifts the arm of the chair with his hook, they both realize what he said and simultaneously let out a quick laugh. "Just one, though,” he adds, smiling across the chair at her. “That’s all I have to offer.”

“How often does that pun come up in real life?” she asks as they pick up the other chair, and when they set it back down, he runs his fingers through his hair.

“Surprisingly not as often as you may think. Or if it does, maybe I just miss the pun on a regular basis.”

Usually, he’s embarrassed by any mention of his deformity, because that’s all that it has become to him. But this exchange is the nicest conversation he’s ever had about it, and with the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on — not to mention the nicest conversation that’s passed between the two of them since their children practically tackled each other in the middle of the street.

Sitting down next to him beside the fire, she smiles up at him again, her gaze passing through her eyelashes and the thick, warm air coming off from the fire, now that the wind from the street is pushing it their way. Which is what makes him realize…

“How is there no smoke?”

Her eyebrows knit together for a moment as she realizes just what his question is pertaining to, since his piercing blue gaze has not left hers since they took their seats. Together, they turn their attention towards the behemoth before them, and Emma looks at it as if it is the first time she has ever contemplated the question.

“I really…” she says finally, slowly, but then stops for a moment before continuing, pulling her bottom lip up under her teeth. “I really have no idea, to be completely honest.”

“Maybe it’s a trick then? A magic cauldron, if you will. That is what Halloween is all about then, is it not, love? Tricks and treats?”

Even though there is not even a drop of humor in his voice, when she turns back to him, he has the biggest, doofiest grin spread across his face, one that reaches up into the creases around his bright blue eyes.

He realizes that he’s done it again, called her love for the second time without any backlash from her.

That has to mean something.

When she smiles back at him, shaking her head in response to his joke, he really hopes it does, because the more genuine the smile on her face grows, the more strikingly beautiful she becomes. Usually, he can blame this problem on the rum, because the only time he runs into women as beautiful as Emma Swan are the few times his friends cross the ocean to visit him and he can drink somewhere other than the solace of his own basement.

But tonight, there is no rum. Only whatever godawful beer she handed him out of her brother’s fridge.

If there’s one thing that Killian Jones does not enjoy, it’s beer, especially whatever the hell passes as it here in America. But because he is nothing if not a gentleman, he drinks it without a second thought, if only because she handed it to him.

He can’t be attracted to Emma Swan. It is at this moment, with her smiling at him, rocking slowly next to him, somehow even more beautiful than the moment before, that he hears this from somewhere in the back of his mind.

And he realizes, as much as he seems to want to be attracted to her, he’s right. Alice has only just become friends with her son — the only damned friend she’s made so far here— and Killian would be beside himself if he did anything to compromise his daughter’s happiness, even if it means compromising his own.

Tone it back, he warns himself, before you do something you’re really going to regret.

But he doesn’t have to—a handful of young kids do it for him:

“Trick or treat!” Their first collection of visitors approaches them, running up the driveway and into the garage. Emma smiles at them for a moment, not poising herself to move, even as all their little eyes stare up at her, and it is not until Killian elbows her arm that she reacts.

“Shit, right,” she whispers, jumping up and running into the house, and he hopes he is the only one who heard her. Moments later, she returns with the large bowl of candy he remembers seeing inside the front door, plus the small table that it was sitting on. The five little kids—an astronaut, a dinosaur, two princesses, and a hot dog—rush up to her as soon as she sets down the table, causing her to take a quick step back with her hands in the air.

As they attack the bowl of candy—“Just two please,” she adds as one of them tries to shove a second fistful of candy into their little plastic jack-o-lantern—she walks around him, still sitting by the fire cauldron, and grabs a sign from under the pumpkin table, which she reveals to be a perfect handwritten bi-fold that reads “HELP YOURSELF! Only two each, please! Happy Halloween!” in three different fonts.

“Your handiwork, Swan?” he asks, chuckling at her as the children begin to walk away.

“Oh, god, no,” she says with a smile. “I could never make anything like that. That’s all Mary Margaret’s handiwork.”

“The kindergarten teacher, right?”

She nods, half-smiling at him. “Right.”

A silence passes between them again, and looking over at her, he feels like he’s going to tell her everything— everything —from Alice’s mother to Milah to the accident.

And, as soon as she asks the question she does, he bloody well just might: “So, what happened in England that made you move, if you don’t mind me asking?”

For some reason, he finds that he does not mind her asking, even a little bit, though his hand flies up to his ear to scratch the spot behind his ear. “Has your boy told you anything about what I did when I was there?”

She raises an eyebrow at him, shaking her head. “I didn’t even know he knew.”

“Oh, he knows. He’s a football fan, right?”

“Henry’s always been more into soccer, actually,” she replies, but when Killian laughs, she turns to him, her face brightening. “Right,” she says, accentuating the t at the end of the word, and he nods, smiling. After a moment, her eyes go wide, putting the pieces of their conversation together. “Wait, you were a professional soccer player?”

“Aye, love, that I was. And a bloody good one at that. ‘Best goalie in the league,’ some of the papers called me. Until…” he holds up the hook, releases the straps holding it on to reveal the stump hiding under the leather.

“An accident,” she says pointedly, reaching out and setting her hand on his arm again.

His eyes fly up to hers, and he is surprised to find them on his face and not on what is left of his arm, the part of him that people tend to not look away from when he reveals it to them.

“How did you know there was an accident?”

“Well, most people don’t purposefully lose their hands when their entire career depends on them.”

The corner of his mouth flicks up in a momentary smile. “That’s true, I suppose. But yes, there was an accident. It was—my brother was injured on his deployment and they wouldn’t tell me anything, and I got really emotional about it, drank much more than I ever should have and started to drive me and my girlfriend home when we were hit by a truck. It hit her side of the car, flipped twice and landed in a ditch. I was bruised and battered, a concussion, a few broken ribs, and a missing hand. But Milah… she didn’t make it. They said she probably died before the car even stopped moving. It was a miracle that I was alive, but there were parts of me that weren’t. I tried to recover, tried to get back into the game, into normal, everyday life, but I was too broken.”

“Was she Alice’s mother?”

His eyes flicker towards her again, but only for a moment. “No, no. Alice’s mother was… She decided to give her up for adoption after she was born, and we were no longer together by that point anyway, so I applied for sole custody and they granted it to me. Besides Milah, it’s always just been me and Alice. She has no memory of the woman who gave birth to her.”

“Oh, Killian,” she whispers, and he realizes that her hand has not left his arm. “I’m so sorry.”

At this moment, as kids are wont to do, an even larger group of teenagers, come up the driveway, searching for candy. “Trick or treat!” they yell, entirely less enthusiastic than the first crowd.

“Happy Halloween!” Emma says back, and Killian waves at them as they reach into the bowl for their candy. Even though there are at least ten of them, Killian does not fail to notice when only three of them say thank you.

Teenagers, he thinks, knowing the sentiment is less than fair, but then her question brings him back to the conversation they were having before they were interrupted.

“Then how did you end up here, in the middle of nowhere in Maine?”

Finally, he smiles, recalling how it happened. “I had enough saved up to take care of us for the rest of my life, so we really could go wherever we wanted. Alice said she always wanted to see America. So we bought a map and hung it on the wall, and we each closed our eyes and threw a dart at it. Mine landed in Montana, and hers landed here. I secretly didn’t want to go to Montana, so I told her we would play rock-paper-scissors for it, and she always—always—picks rock, so I picked scissors, and we started packing the next day and moved to Maine.”

“Do you regret it?”

He scoffs. “Regret it? Regret moving away from the pain and suffering and failure that I left in London? Regret moving to a town with the same population as the apartment complex Alice and I lived in? I don’t regret a single moment of it.”

She smiles at him. A soft, warm thing, the realest emotion she’s revealed to him since he got there.

“Trick or treat!” Three young girls, all dressed as Disney princesses, come up towards the house—and, unlike all of the teenagers, all three yell “thank you”’s into the garage before heading back down the driveway.

“Well, I for one am glad that you’ve found yourself here in the middle of nowhere,” she says once they are gone, voice soft, and as he practically feels his heart pound out of his chest, so loud that he’s pretty sure she can hear it, he realizes it’s too late.

He’s already started to fall for Emma Swan.

“As am I, love. But, you know, since my Alice and I have moved here at the beginning of the summer, she has only ever come home to me with stories about the other girls her age, about how mean they are to her because she’s different, and as much as we needed this new life here after…” He swallows quickly, washing it down with a mouthful of beer as he holds up his hook, still in his hand. “After everything, we almost went back. Because I would do that for my girl. I would do anything for her.

“When she came home from her first day of school, and I was ready for the worst. Ready for her to beg to move back to England. And then she burst through that door, and she had the biggest smile on her face. I thought I was going to melt, I was so happy for her. And do you know what she told me?”

Though his eyes have been set on a spot in the concrete in front of him, hers have not moved from him since he started talking, watching him intently, holding on to every word, but when he asks this question, pauses for a moment, her only response is a smile.

She knows.

“She told me that she has a new best friend. He—he stood up for her in front of the other mean girls and now they’re going to be friends forever. And that boy, he’s your boy.” As an emphasis of the your, he turns the bottom of the bottle in her direction, smiles at her again, and then takes another quick sip, finishing the bottle and setting it on the floor beside him, then setting the hook down next to it, rubbing the scars it was covering. “I’m thankful for that every day, because I’ve been the bullied kid, and I never want my Alice to have to go through that. So I don’t know what you did to that boy, but you did it well.”

Parents are a different kind of proud when it comes to their kid, a different kind of happy when they hear them complimented, especially so highly as Killian just did—and this is something that automatically reveals itself to be true to him when she smiles at him again, this one different than the others she’s flashed so far that night.

“Thank you, that really means a lot,” she continues. “I’ve always—I’ve always been a little worried about him, to be honest. His father was sort of a deadbeat, and I was always scared that he would end up like him. That’s why we moved back here when I learned I was having him, so that he would have someone like my brother to look up to instead of his father. At least David puts criminals in jail and has never wound up there himself.”

Killian is taken aback by her confession, though he supposes that’s what they’re doing now: confessing.

“Well, then, your brother must be a man of honor to have helped raise such a charming and kind boy. What does your brother do?”

“Oh, he’s the sheriff. Sheriff Nolan? Have you met him since you moved here?’

Killian lets out a breathy chuckle. “No, Swan, I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting the sheriff .” He emphasizes the last word, raising his eyebrows in the process, and it’s not until then that Emma realizes the tone of his words.

She touches him again, this time resting her hand on his lower arm, and the heat that surges through his body when she laughs is enough to power the whole neighborhood.

“Come on, Killian, you know that’s not what I meant!” she says, then laughs again, her face reddening enough to be noticeable in the weird Halloween light.

He may have stopped breathing. She called him Killian. She called him Killian and touched his arm.

Killian was in love before, once. Twice, maybe. But he has never before felt like this, all tied up and giddy and unable to put his words in the right order.

“David’s involved with a lot more around the town than just being the sheriff, so I was thinking—he’s not just in the police station, you know, so you’ve probably—you’ve probably seen him around town since you moved in and haven’t even realized it. I didn’t—of course, I didn’t mean… I would never think…” Her words trail off, and she takes a large mouthful of beer to fill the silence that Killian tries to desperately to keep, but fails. It is only a few moments before he bursts, erupting with laughter, and he is thankful when he hears her voice join his, the perfect harmony of them laughing together filling the garage.

It might just be the most beautiful sound he has ever seen, and he was a professional soccer player. A damn good one.

Their laughter dies down, stopped every moment or so while they meet each other’s eyes, and then it is gone.

Emma finishes her beer, smiling at him over the bottle before pushing herself up off the chair. “Do you want another? Or, I think I’ll switch to something stronger, I can’t stand this stuff, if you’re down for that.”

Killian has never been more thankful for a statement before.

Or, at least, he’s pretty sure he hasn’t.

He smiles at her, standing up and taking the bottle off the ground next to him.

“I would love something stronger. I’ve never been particularly taken by beer, and that was in England.”

Smiling, she takes the bottle from him, the tips of his fingers brushing against his hand for just a moment. “You could have said something, you know?”

“I always opt to remain a gentleman. When a woman hands you a bottle of beer, you drink it, whether you want to or not.”

“You know that makes absolutely no sense, right? What if you don’t know her? Do you just take bottles from random strangers in bars? Because that can’t be safe.”

He shrugs, the corner of his lips pulling up into a momentary smile. “Aye, it was never a rule I very much agreed with, and I’ve since rectified it to not include strange women. But you, love, are far from strange.”

“Am I now? What if the crap David leaves in his fridge is the worst beer you’ve ever tasted?”

“I still finished the bottle, didn’t I?”

Her eyes go wide, a smile spreading across her face, and she holds up the bottles in her hands. “Well, since this was the worst beer you’ve ever tasted, what can I get for you? Given David actually has some.”

“Rum, if you have it, love. If not…” He runs the edge of his fingernail against the side of his tooth, then smiles at her. “If not, I’ll take literally anything other than this terrible beer.”

She barks out a laugh before closing the door behind her.

Bloody hell, Killian, what have you gotten yourself into?

Another group of kids, about Alice and Henry’s age, walks up the driveway “Trick or treat!”-ing at him, and he waves his hand towards them as they follow the directions on the sign, each carefully picking out two pieces of candy each before retreating.

Heartbreak, he thinks to himself, and his gaze falls down to his forearm, currently hidden by the leather of the costume jacket, but he knows it’s there: the tattoo he got in her honor, the woman he was with for almost three years, whose death he was responsible for. It was a heart with a dagger in it, her name on a ribbon in front of it.

It does not take long for her to return, brandishing a glass in each hand, and the one she hands to him has a more than generous serving of rum in it; when he takes a sip of it, it burns his throat perfectly, and he smiles.

“Heartbreak is a funny thing, love. But sometimes, it’s a blessing.”

“You’re happy I got my heart broken?”

“If it can be broken it means it still works.”

Alice stares up at it, and it’s almost as if it stares back, the castle—well, mansion, looming down at her from the end of the street. The Mills house, home to the mayor and her family, and the very place that she is dreading going. Gina Mills, daughter of Regina Mills—because yes, of course, the mayor named her only daughter after herself —has been nothing but rude to Alice since the first day of school, and now her house is the very place Alice needs to go in order to go to this party.

“Are you sure we have to, Henry?” she asks, and when he turns to her, he sees just how wide her eyes are, still focused up at the house. She snaps her head towards Henry, and he can see the sheer terror in her face.

He does the one thing he can think of that makes him feel better when he is scared: he reaches out and takes her hand in his. “I promise you, it will be fine, Alice. We’re going together, and I won’t let them be mean to you.”

At his words, she smiles and squeezes his hand, then releases it as she sees the three girls walking towards them: Gina, dressed in an elaborate princess gown, her long, dark hair piled on top of her head under a tiara; her best friend Ashley, in a glittering black dress and a witch’s hat; and her stepsister, Margot, in a green tunic and brown tights, a bow slung over her shoulder and a quiver of arrows hanging at her hip.

“Well, well, well, look who it is!” Gina taunts, walking towards them. “The new girl and the little Swan boy.”

“Shut up, Gina,” Henry says, his voice hard, but he is smaller than them, looking up at the three girls, and all they do is laugh at them.

Well, Gina and Ashley do, but Alice realizes that Margot, standing behind them, has her arms crossed over her chest and is very much not laughing with them. In fact, she even looks upset by what Gina is saying.

“What are you even supposed to be, Swan? A squire?”

Henry knows that arguing is worthless and can stop his words, but he can’t stop the flood of warmth that takes over his cheeks, thankful for the darkness in the street.

She turns her glare towards Alice. “And you, a little orphan girl?”

But unlike Henry, Alice stands her ground. “Actually, I’m Alice, from Alice in Wonderland. You would know that if you ever read a book.”

For just a moment, Gina’s mouth is gaping, unsure of how to respond when she is the one being barraged with the insults. She knits her eyebrows, putting together a response, but before she can, Margot pushes past her and Ashley, flashing Alice a warm smile.

“ Alice in Wonderland is one of my favorite books! My dad used to read it to me all the time, when he wasn’t reading Robin Hood. ”

Finally, Alice smiles, shifting her eyes towards Gina for just a moment before Margot links her arm through Alice’s, starting to lead her towards their house. Alice reaches her hand out and takes Henry’s, dragging him along behind them towards the house, a smile slowly stretching across her face.

“Your house is beautiful, Margot,” Alice tells her when she opens the front door for them. “It reminds me—reminds me of the place me and my papa used to stay when he was on the off-season.”

“Thanks, Alice,” she says, leading them to a table in the kitchen covered in snacks and candy and drinks. While she and Henry take a few items each, then fill their punch cups with the blood-red juice Regina whipped up for the party, Margot just stands behind them, her arms crossed over her chest, thumb toying with the string on her costume bow, watching Gina and Ashley walk slowly throughout the room, whispering to each other, no doubt making fun of all the kids she invited to her own party.

With snacks and punch in hand, the three of them move through the kitchen to one of the small tables Regina set up in place of their large dining room table.

Alice and Henry eat their snacks in silence for a very awkward minute, sharing questioning eye contact while Margot’s gaze is locked across the room. After this awkward minute, though, Margot is the one who speaks up.

“Hey, look, I’m—I’m really sorry about the way Gina has been treating you. Both of you. She can be a royal brat sometimes, but she—not that there’s a good excuse for it, but she’s not usually like that.”

Alice smiles across the table at her new friend, then back at Henry.

“I hate seeing her treat you that way, and I don’t know why it’s taken so long for me to stop her. Hopefully she’ll back off a little bit now that she knows I’m on your side.”

“Thank you,” Alice says softly, and Henry just nods in agreement. “I really appreciate that, especially after everything she’s done to me since I moved here from England.”

Now it’s Margot’s turn to smile at Alice. “Now, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. My dad is from England, too. From up north, near Manchester. I went over there once a few years ago, before he married Regina, and I remember it was the most beautiful green I have ever seen.”

“Papa and I lived in London, but he was actually born in Ireland. That’s where we went on the off-season, a little southern coastal town. But it really is beautiful. Almost as beautiful as it is here, in Maine.”

“How did you get from England to Maine?” Henry asks, and Margot nods, wondering the same question.

“Well, my papa, he… he got in a car accident and his girlfriend, Milah, died, and he lost his hand, so he couldn’t be a goalie anymore, and we decided that it was time to try something new.”

“But how did you decide on Maine ?” Now it’s Margot’s turn to ask the question.

Alice smiles, pulling the memory to the forefront, standing in front of the map tacked to the wall and throwing darts, finding somewhere to make their new home, and she relays the memories to her friends—then, how she hoped that she wouldn’t have to move to Montana, where her father’s dart landed, and how her whole life depended on a game of rock-paper-scissors, one which she won. “And so we moved to Maine.”

“Well, Alice, I know I’m glad that you did,” Margot comments with a smile, one that both Alice and Henry duplicate.

But before either of them can reply, their conversation is stopped by a rugged, sandy-haired man who comes up behind Margot and sets her hand on her shoulder.

“Margot, sweets, Regina needs your help with something.” Then he smiles at her before turning towards Alice and Henry, and through his accent, so similar to her own father’s, makes Alice guess that he is Margot’s father. “But first, who are your friends? Well, I know Henry, of course, how are you young man?” He asks, holding out his hand for Henry to shake it, which he does.

“Hello, Mr. Locksley,” Henry replies curtly, smiling softly.

“I’m Alice Jones,” Alice says, holding her own hand towards the man, flashing her own smile. “I’m –”

“Killian Jones’ daughter, of course.” His blue eyes light up with excitement, which only makes Alice’s smile grow. “Sweets, go help Regina, please,” he tells his daughter, his voice just above a mumble, then takes her seat when she stands up. “I’m a big fan of your father, you know?” he asks, leaning towards her with his forearms on the table. “He was the best of the best in his prime. You should be proud of him.”

“I definitely am, sir.”

Robin smiles across the table at her, then leans in closer. “Do you think—do you think you could introduce me to him?”

“Of course I can, whenever you’d like.”

“Thank you, love,” he says softly, almost as if he is overwhelmed by the fact that he has the opportunity to meet Killian Jones, before pushing himself away from the table to stand up. “I’ll let you two continue to party. Happy halloween!”

They both respond with curt, awkward “Happy Halloween”s, then give the awkward tension at the table a moment to dissipate before Henry states what’s on his mind:

“I wonder how our parents are doing.”

Alice leans towards him across the table, her smile as wide as she can make it. “Hopefully falling in love. That’s why I convinced him to come, you know? So he would have to spend time with your mother. He’s been so sad, so alone, since we moved, and he doesn’t think I know, but I know.”

“Alice! You tricked him!” Henry sounds astonished, but he can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face.

“Well, it is Halloween. Isn’t that what this is all about? Tricks and treats?”

“It’s almost 9:00, where do you think they are?” Killian asks, his eyes falling to his cell phone sitting in the cupholder of the chair, and as much as she laughs at his worry— “They’re ten years old at a party down the street, Jones,” —she also understands him. His daughter is new to the town, has never been to a party with these kids before, even one with lots of other parents, and, to top it all off, some of the kids have been less than decent to his little girl.

She watches as he takes another sip of his rum, pausing for just a moment before touching his lips to the glass, and he takes the rest of the liquid in one mouthful.

Somehow, by the volition of one of them or the other, their chairs have moved closer together, now more next to each other instead of facing one another, close enough that Emma’s hand can reach his with her arm still on the headrest.

“I’m sure they’re fine, and will be home soon.” Her voice is soft, matching the soft feel of her thumb on the back of his hand. She can’t quite understand what it is, can’t describe the pull that she feels towards the man sitting with her in her brother’s garage—not just a man, but her son’s friend’s father. It would be completely and totally wrong to be attracted to Alice’s father.

But then why can’t she stop touching him?

This is the question she is mulling over, taking a slow, pointed sip of her drink, when Henry and Alice finally come walking back up the driveway.

Killian, in all his endearing (and, Emma can’t help thinking, absolutely sexy ) dad protection, lets out a sigh of relief, jumping out of his seat and wrapping his arms around his daughter.

"Oh, Starfish, was so worried about you,” he says, pressing his lips to the girl’s forehead.

She takes a step back, and the way her eyebrow raises to her forehead is a trait she inherited straight from her father. “Why?”

Henry smiles gently at his mother, then turns his attention towards the Joneses. “I told you I would take care of her, Mr. Jones,” he says, and when Killian turns to him, the edge of his lips turns up in the beginnings of a smile.

"Aye, lad, that you did. But no matter who promised to take care of my Alice, I will always still worry about her.”

“Well, papa, Henry did stand up for me. and so did our new friend Margot.”

Even standing next to her, Killian does not miss the look that covers Emma’s face, or the tone in her voice when she asks, “Margot? Like, Margot Locksley, Regina’s stepdaughter?”

Both of the children nod but its Henry that speaks. “Yeah, her! Gina was making fun of our costumes, and she jumped right in and told her to leave us alone.”

Before Henry can say anything else, Alice jumps in, a flash of excitement taking over her face. “And she talked to us for the rest of the night! Plus, I got to meet her dad, and he’s from Manchester and is a really big fan of yours and wants to meet you!”

Killian smiles sweetly at his daughter, but still can’t keep the blush from rising up his cheeks, his hand flying to his ear to scratch behind it—the Killian Jones sign of embarrassment, as Emma is slowly beginning to learn.

“I look forward to meeting him, then,” he mumbles, his voice just as embarrassed as he looks, and Emma can tell that he is not quite sure what to do next, so she jumps in.

"Why don’t the two of you go in and watch a movie or something? No need to call it a night quite yet.” As subtly as she can, she turns her eyes up towards him with the last words, hoping he heard everything she was trying to say with them: that maybe she wasn’t quite ready to call it a night yet, either.

Alice looks up to her father, as if making sure he agreed with Emma’s suggestion, and he smiles down at her, pressing his hand to the top of her head. “Aye, Starfish, we won’t be too long.”

Both Alice and Henry seem to accept this as a reasonable answer, sharing a quick glance between them before turning to the door that leads back into the house.

When it closes behind them, Killian turns back to Emma, the small amount of space between them suddenly becoming incredibly apparent, but neither of them dare move a muscle, lest they burst the bubble and break the spell brewing between them.

The fire has died down to a smolder, both of them too distracted by their conversation and the amounts of alcohol they had allowed themselves that night—more than either of them had intended, but not enough to hinder their memories or feelings.

(Though, if Killian were being honest with himself, perhaps enough to make him uncomfortable with the idea of driving home with Alice in the car. But he could wait to cross that bridge until he got there.)

With the half-dead fire as their main source of light, he has to rely on the lights strung on the walls to read her face—though it is quite a lot easier given the small amount of space between them. Looking down at her, he wags his eyebrows, a smile peeking its way across his face. “Admit it, Swan. You just weren’t ready to be done with my company just yet.”

She doesn’t know what calls her to do it, if it is his joking attitude, his incredibly calm demeanor, the realness of their conversation as the night has gone on, or perhaps just the damn glint in his bright blue eyes reflecting the orange light of the smoldering fire; but no matter what the reason for it is, when she pulls his face to hers, her hand wrapped around the back of his neck and his hand finding its way to her hip, she knows that it does somehow feel incredibly right . Something about the warmth of his lips pressed against her own, the hardness of his chest through all that damn leather, and the sweet taste of rum and Halloween candy on his tongue as it slides against hers is perfect.

So perfect that she doesn’t even notice the group of people walking up the driveway towards them until the knowing sound of Mary Margaret clearing her throat causes Emma to push herself away from him, using her hand still pressed against his chest as leverage—as if putting a few feet of space between them would change the fact that her brother, his wife, and the mayor’s husband just found her making out with an incredibly good-looking, leather-clad British man in her brother’s garage.

“Hello, Emma,” Mary Margaret says. trying to keep a straight face, though the glare plastered on David’s is just about as straight as it gets. Her eyes turn towards Killian, trying to take him all in without making it incredibly noticeable, and she reaches her hand out towards him, reaching over her son’s stroller. “And you must be Mr. Jones, Alice’s father?”

Emma can tell that he is trying to seem calm, but she recognizes the same reddening in the tips of his ears from the few other times he has become embarrassed. “Yes, that’s correct,” he replies, his voice doing its best to stay flat.

“I thought so,” Mary Margaret says, her collected demeanor unfaltering. “I’m Mary Margaret, Emma’s sister in law.” Smiling, she reaches her arm out and takes David’s hand, pulling him to stand next to her. The glare covering his face has not wavered. “And this is David, my husband. Emma’s brother.”

This time, Killian is the one to reach out his hand, but when David takes it, he does not return Killian’s smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sheriff Nolan.”

“Good,” David grumbles, and Emma notices the white of her brothers knuckles as he shakes Killian’s hand, squeezing as hard as he can. “You know who I am.”

Emma recognizes the tone of his voice—it’s the same one he uses when he is trying to intimidate someone into confessing. But if Killian is intimidated, then he does an incredible job hiding it, unlike his embarrassment. “Of course, Emma has told me much about the two of you. This is a lovely house, so eloquently decorated. And who is this charming little mate?” he asks, leaning down towards Neal, asleep in his stroller.

It’s with these words, pointed so specifically at Mary Margaret, that Emma remembers just what Killian Jones made his career in, and suddenly the way he seems to already have her sister-in-law under his thumb makes complete sense: captain of a professional soccer— football— team, a position that put him in front of a lot of cameras, and next to a lot of women. Of course he can rope Mary Margaret in so quickly—it’s just a part of who he is.

And the smile that spreads across Mary Margaret’s face proves that he has succeeded at his quest. “This is our son Neal. He’s almost a year old.”

“Excuse me, uh, Mr. Jones?” Robin pushes his way past David to stand next to Mary Margaret, holding out his own hand towards Killian. “I’m Robin. Locksley. Robin Locksley. And may I just say, I am a huge fan, even as a man from Manchester.”

“Please, Robin,” Killian says, taking his hand in his own. “Our daughters are friends now, you can at least call me Killian.”

Emma can swear that she can physically see the excitement spread over Robin’s face at this comment. “Well, Mr. Jones—uh, Killian—you’re right about that. I just wanted to come and introduce myself.”

"I’m glad you did, Robin. Maybe one day soon we can grab a pint and talk about home, eh?”

At this, Robin actually blushes from embarrassment. “I would like that a lot. I, uh, have to get home and help Regina and the girls straighten up, but it really was a pleasure to meet you. I’ll see you around.”

“Yes, definitely, we will get together”

If it was possible for Robin to blush any harder, he may have, but he was at least at a loss for words when he turned back down the driveway to return home.

When he is out of earshot, Emma slaps Killian in the chest with the back of her hand, her eyes wide.

“What?” he asks, grabbing her wrist with his hand as a knee-jerk reaction, and Emma is almost entirely sure that she immediately would have started making out with him again if they didn’t have an audience.

But they do. So she doesn’t.

Instead, she answers his question. “You didn’t have to embarrass the poor guy!”

“Me, embarrass him? He was acting like I’m some sort of celebrity!”

“You are, Killian.”

“Wait, you are?” Mary Margaret asks, but they both ignore her question.

“No, Emma, I used to be.”

"You did?” Mary Margaret interjects again, and again they ignore her.

“I don’t want to be that guy here, the guy that ruined his career, had a mental breakdown, and moved as far away as he could.“

"No matter what happened, Killian, the guy obviously still sees you as the star, and not as anything that has happened since then.”

She has filled the space between them again completely, resting the palms of her hands against his chest. Hearing her words, he reaches up to cover her hand with his own, leaning towards her to rest his forehead against hers, a movement that somehow feels completely normal to both of them.

After a moment, he releases his breath. “Aye, love, I guess you’re right. It’s just still a little odd for me.”

Neither of them say anything, and the garage is silent for a moment before David speaks up. “Alright, someone’s gotta tell me what’s going on here, because this is my garage and I have a right to know.”

They break apart again, being made aware of their company, but this time is less violent than the last, their hands still clasped together between them.

“David, this is Killian Jones, retired soccer—”

“Football, love,” Killian corrects, but she silences him with a glare and continues.

“ Football goalie, ” She says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Newest resident of Storybrooke, Maine, and father to Henry’s friend Alice.”

For once, David actually looks impressed. Mary Margaret, however, does not. When David turns his gaze down to his wife, he sees this, and immediately claps his hand on Killian’s shoulder.

“Let’s go inside and find ourselves something to drink, shall we?” he asks, but doesn’t give Killian a chance to reply before pulling him beside him into the house. As if he can tell that his father just left, baby Neal wakes up in his stroller and starts to cry.

When the door closes behind them, Emma turns to the brown-eyed glare that she knows is waiting for her.

“What?”

Mary Margaret huffs loudly, her lips pressed together to form a thin line, before leaning down to pull her fussing baby out of the stroller. “You know what, Emma. Dating another parent? Someone Henry is actually friends with? We both know this isn’t a good idea. Is that why you kept it from us?”

“Kept it?” she starts to ask, but realizes that at least that’s a little better than just meeting him tonight and kissing him in their garage. So she changes her angle. “We’re still trying to figure it out ourselves,” she says, a statement not too far from the truth.

And then, she realizes that is exactly what she wants—she wants to figure it out with him, wants to find a way to be in a relationship with him in a way that isn’t weird for their kids. Because, yes, she may have just met him tonight, and yes, his daughter is friends with her son—but neither of those things had to keep them apart.

She could date Killian Jones without it being weird.

Couldn’t she?

“A professional athlete, right here in my town, huh ?” David asks, handing him another god awful beer out of the fridge—but he had been lucky enough to only have to have choked his way through one the whole night, and all the rum his had since then at least helps it go down a little smoother.

There is a weird sense of pride in his voice, as if something he did made Killian join their ranks, but he just smiles, taking a sip out of the bottle.

“Yes, my Alice and I decided it was time for a change after my career was over, and this was where fate brought us.”

“What ended your career?”

At first, Killian is thrown off by the question— isn’t it obvious? —but when he turns to David and sees the sincerity behind his eyes, he realizes that he had just not put the pieces together yet.

Killian holds up the stump of his arm, the tip of it just visible under the edge of the jacket sleeve. “Car accident,” he says, steadying his voice, and he watches as David tries to hide the flash of surprise that crosses his face.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice soft, and presses the beer bottle to his lips for a moment before taking a slow sip.

“I’m not,” Killian says, the confession surprising him—it was a thought he’d allowed himself to have before, but not one that had ever been put into words, especially not to a man he had just met. “I mean, of course I’m sorry it happened because I took the life of someone else, someone I cared about deeply, and I will never not be sorry that my actions led to that. But I’m not sorry about where it has brought me, about the changes I have enacted in my life because of it.”

The two of them are silent for a moment, the only noise in the house carrying over from the first Harry Potter movie playing in the living room. And then David bursts the bubble, changing the subject and breaking the silence all at once:

“How long have you been seeing my sister?”

The question itself is simple.

Answering the question, however, is not.

Killian assumes that Emma doesn’t usually kiss complete strangers in her brother’s garage on Halloween, and he doesn’t want to make whatever is brewing between them seem fickle.

Because, he realizes, he doesn’t want it to be fickle. He wants to be with her, wants to at least have the opportunity to try before they have to label anything

He wants exactly what he came to America searching for: he wants a normal life, surrounded by normal people, and to be in a normal relationship, where nothing is expected of him except to be himself.

And, more than all of that, he wants to know if he can find it through— with— Emma Swan.

“So that’s why we haven’t told you. Haven’t told anyone.” The lie rolls easily off her tongue, but the fact that she so desperately wants it to be true makes fashioning it all the easier.

She just hopes Killian is somehow attempting the same thing inside with her brother.

“We want to keep it quiet, to keep things simple, until we figure out just what it is we have between us. We both have kids, and we understand how difficult it might be for them if it doesn’t work out, so they don’t—they don’t even know about it, actually. Not yet, at least.”

Finally, Mary Margaret smiles at her, shifting baby Neal onto her other hip. “You seem to have given this more thought than I was giving you credit for,” she says, and Emma realizes just how right she is. For most of the night, Emma was subconsciously trying to piece together how she could have a relationship with Killian Jones without ruining the friendship that has flourished since he stepped into her brother’s yard—though, she imagines, neither of them were thinking about friendship.

She definitely was not.

But there was still the problem that she revealed to Mary Margaret: trying to be with him, to start from where they were interrupted before and see what happens, without letting it affect the friendship their children were forming. Or, even without letting them know that there was a relationship forming in the first place. Emma doesn’t keep much from Henry, and from what she gathered, she assumed Killian and Alice have a similar relationship.

Though, of course, you can’t practice hiding a relationship from your son if you never have one in the first place.

“We just need time,” Emma says finally, the words forming a sigh. She expects nothing from them; she is saying them more as a reminder for herself than anything else.

So she definitely doesn’t expect Mary Margaret to reach out and place her hand on her arm, drawing her gaze back to her sister-in-law’s, and say, “Then take it. David and I will keep Henry and Alice tonight, as long as Mr. Jones is okay with it. They may even already be asleep on the couch. Go home, take him home, and talk. Try to figure things out.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, suddenly worried that maybe Killian doesn’t want the same thing she does, but even through her worry, a smile still spreads itself across her face. “Don’t you need to talk to David or something? I don’t just want to throw two sugar-high ten-year-olds at you guys and run.”

But before Mary Margaret can respond, the door from the house opens again, and David leads Killian through it. Emma can’t help but smile at the bottles of beer in Killian’s hand, the very poison they had turned away from almost three hours ago—but, always a gentleman, he must have accepted some again.

And brought her one. Great.

“Good news, Snow!” David announces, using the nickname he has called her since college. “We’re having a sleepover tonight! Us, the baby, and two ten-year-olds!”

Eyes wide, Emma and Mary Margaret turn towards each other, bewildered smiles set on each of their faces. Killian fills the space between them, handing her one of the bottles of beer in his hand before wrapping his arm around her waist, the coolness of his beer bottle against her hip.

When neither of the women respond, David looks worried, and Killian leans away from her enough to take in her expression, trying to find the same signs of worry she looks for in him.

“Is there a problem with that?” David asks, and Mary Margaret takes the few steps to stand beside him, taking the glass of water she assumed was for her out of his hand with a smile.

“No, actually, it’s just—that was the same conclusion we came to out here and it threw me off for a moment, is all.”

With Mary Margaret’s words, Killian smiles down at Emma, his worry melting away.

“We should go tell the kids, then,” Emma says, starting her second bottle of the worst beer he has ever tasted, a knowing smile on her lips. Because not only does she want to give him a chance, but apparently the world agrees.

Her house is decidedly less decorated than her brother’s. A few jack-o-lanterns on the porch, a purple glass pumpkin sitting in a tray of fake leaves on the dining room table. Thankfully, there is not a spider’s web anywhere to be seen. Killian’s not sure that he could have the conversation that needs to be had in a room filled with fake spider webs and skulls.

And he really needs to be able to have this conversation.

She wants to have it, too. He can tell. After they have both changed out of their costumes, she into leggings and a tee shirt and he into jeans and a button-down that he keeps in his car, there is something in the pointed way she gathers all the dishes in the living room and puts them in the sink that speaks nervousness to him, something in the slow energy she dedicates to pouring them both drinks out of her own liquor cabinet—a rather hefty Captain, neat, for him, and an even heftier Knob Creek with a single ice cube for her—that tells him that something in her is trying to repress the conversation as much as she can.

But, once the dishes are cleaned up, the kitchen table wiped off, the blanket that was sitting on the couch folded, and they both have drinks in their hands, she sits down in the center of the couch, since he has opted for the armchair for himself, there is nothing else she can do to avoid it.

“What the hell are we thinking, Killian?” she asks, the glint in her eye somehow telling him that she wants to down the rest of her whiskey in a single gulp, but she does not.

Her question surprises him, even with all of the animosity she has already shown towards the subject. “What?”

“Our kids are friends. This whole thing could tear them apart. If we decide to go for this, and it comes back to bite us in the ass, then we have no one but ourselves to blame. But we won’t be the only people getting hurt.”

“But what if it works?”

“Now, come on, Killian,” she starts, but he doesn’t let her continue.

“You’re looking at this whole thing so negatively, but what if you didn’t? What if we go for this, and it works? And we give our kids a family ?”

“Henry has a family. He has me, he has David and Mary Margaret and Neal.”

“You and I both know that’s not what I meant, Emma.”

She does not respond to this, instead taking another pointed sip of her whiskey. He watches the rise and fall of her chest as she takes slow breaths, her eyes avoiding him by being drawn to the coffee table in front of them.

Now it is his turn to hit her with a question, just like she did to start this conversation: “Do you want this as much as I do?” He pushes himself off the chair and moves to take a seat beside her on the couch. His next words are slower, each of them chosen very carefully, but they reveal nothing but the truth. “Because the only thing I have thought about since I saw you open that door is how much I want to be with you.”

“Come on, Killian,” she says again, but this time, he does not stop her. “That just makes this even more crazy. Don’t give me this ‘love-at-first-sight’ bullshit, because we both know that’s exactly what it is. There are so many reasons we shouldn’t do this.”

“Then tell me them.”

Although this is far from the most insane thing he has asked, she reacts as if it is. Leaning forward to set her glass down on the coffee table, she stands up to leave him on the couch, pacing through the room in front of him. “I’ve already told you my main concern. Everything I have done since Henry came into my life has been for him. Every decision I have made, I made because I thought it would be best for him. There’s a reason his father doesn’t even know he exists, and that same reason is why I’ve refused to date anyone.”

“Ah,” he responds, taking another sip of his rum while waiting for her to turn her eyes to him.

“What?”

“This isn’t really about Henry then, is it?”

“What? What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?”

“You don’t have to hide from it, Emma. It’s a perfectly reasonable fear, given all that you have been put through. This isn’t about Henry, it’s about Henry’s father.”

Emma opens her mouth, poised to say something, but stops before any words come up, snapping her jaw shut. Killian just watches her emotions as they pass across her face, from stunned to angry to worried to upset.

“Don’t I have the right to worry about that, though?”

“Of course you do, love. All I’m saying is that you don’t have to anymore.”

“It’s not like that, Killian. You can’t just waltz into my life and tell me that I can forget everything that Neal did to me. He was a criminal, he tried to send me to jail for his own crimes. I lost everything because of him, crumbled into nothing when he left, and it’s taken me years to build myself back up to the point where I can be okay.”

Killian places his glass on the table next to Emma’s, then stands up and runs his fingers through his hair. “Wait, wait… Henry’s father’s name was Neal?”

She whips around to face him, confused. “ That’s your question?”

“That’s your nephew’s name.”

“Correct,” she says, a shadow of a smile passing over her face now that she understands his question.

“Does that mean that you never told your brother his name?”

“Also correct.”

“So, the fact that their son has the same name as the scum that impregnated you and left you is completely unknown to them?”

“Pure irony.”

He sits down on the couch again, running his fingers over the scars at the end of his blunted arm, a movement he has found himself doing without realizing it since the accident. “That’s just bloody brilliant,” he says under his breath, but Emma chuckles lightly.

She paces back and forth a few more times in front of the coffee table, then sighs as she takes her seat next to him again. Leaning forward, her elbows on her knees, she grabs both of the glasses off of the coffee table, handing him his, but continues to lean forward. He doesn’t push her any further, lets them lie in the soft silence that has settled between them for a few moments.

Until she sits back, setting her hand on his knee, her face close enough to his to take in every contour of his expression as he tries to read hers. “How did it work with you and her?” She moves her hand to his, reaching across his to thread her fingers through his, and then points to the tattoo on his forearm, visible now that he has changed out of the costume and rolled up the sleeves on his long-sleeved shirt. “Milah?”

“What do you mean, love?”

“What was her relationship with Alice when the two of you were together?”

“Honestly, most of the time we were together, Alice was with her nanny in Ireland while I was playing in London, and the first two years, I wasn’t comfortable enough bringing her home to such an impressionable child. Alice was too young to come with me, and we had been together for a while by the time I decided we had a steady enough foundation for her to come to Ireland with me.”

“Yeah, well, we don’t have that pleasure,” she whispers, taking a long sip of her whiskey, and he mirrors her action with his own glass.

“Emma, I—I know that you may have your doubts, but I have never been drawn to someone the way I have continually found myself drawn to you since I first laid eyes on you. So what if we just… jump in? I’m willing to be in this for the long run.”

She turns her face towards his again, closing some of the space between them as she tries not to focus on the way his tongue runs over his bottom lip while he waits for her to answer. “You’re nothing if not a damn charmer, Killian Jones.”

She lets him fill the space between them—it was his turn to kiss her anyway—and he does.

This kiss is less rushed than their first one, soft and slow and perfect as their lips brush together, and this time when his tongue brushes over her bottom lip, it is less demanding and more asking. Her hand finds the soft, dark hair at the nape of his neck, her other pressed against his chest, feeling his heartbeat; his is threaded through her hair, though his stump remains at his side.

Emma has noticed the way he avoids using it, avoids touching her with it, as if she is somehow disgusted by it, so when she slides her hand across his chest to wrap her fingers around his wrist, feeling the scars, he tries to pull it away as a reaction—one that she will not let him follow through with. When they do finally pull apart from each other, she opens her eyes first, foreheads pressed together, and he leans in to press his nose against hers as he opens his bright blue eyes, blazing with emotion.

When his gaze falls down to what is left of his left arm, hers follows, letting him hold it up between them. “Emma, love, you don’t have to –”

“No, I do. Because if you’re going to be with me and all of the ghosts that Neal left in my past, then I’m here with you and yours. This is part of you, what happened to you is part of you, and it’s a part of you that I am going to love along with everything else.”

“Ghosts and all?” His voice is soft, almost trembling, as if he is sure that her answer is going to be no. But she takes his arm in her hand again, kissing the skin just above his scars, then his cheek, then his lips.

“Everything, Killian. What was it you said to me earlier? You’re in it –”

“For the long haul,” they say together before he pulls her in for another kiss.

One year later:

Emma stands in front of the mirror in her bedroom, she can’t help but press her hand against her stomach, feeling the soft black fabric of her favorite dress beneath it. Killian had insisted that they go out to dinner for their anniversary, even though all she wanted to do was sit in David’s garage and hand out Halloween candy; so they settled for a compromise, going out to dinner the night before instead of on actual Halloween. Since it was out of their way, he took Alice and Henry to David and Mary Margaret’s while she finished getting ready, since Emma had just put her house up on the market after spending most of the past year at Killian’s anyway. It was bigger, had two extra bedrooms, and the dock in the backyard was a commodity he wasn’t ready to give up quite yet. Applying a last layer of lipstick, she hears him pull up in front of the house, then when he closes the car door behind him. It is only a few moments before he bounds up the steps into their master suite, sliding up behind her to wrap his arms around her waist, unknowingly resting his hand where hers were just a minute ago and pressing his lips against the sensitive skin on the back of her neck.

“You’re bloody gorgeous, d’you know that?”

She turns in his arms, locking her hands around the back of his neck, feeling his hair under her thumbs as she smiles at him. “Yeah, I think you’ve told me once or twice.”

The smile spread across his face grows, and he presses a soft kiss against her nose, knowing better than to mess with her lipstick before she has a chance to ruin it other places. “Are you ready, love? We need to leave soon to make our reservations.”

“Reservations? Killian Jones, you really went above and beyond, didn’t you?”

“I have to do the best I can for the woman I love.”

Shaking her head at him, she pulls out of his arms, knowing full well (and from experience) that once he started saying things like that, it just gets harder and harder to leave the bedroom.

“Well then, let’s go so you can feed her.”

He had already pulled out all of the stops, more stops than she even knew there were, and that was before they even started getting ready for dinner. It all started with breakfast in bed, pancakes and bacon and hot chocolate, and then he had shown up at the police station for lunch, toting more hot chocolate and and a grilled cheese, not to mention the dozen of perfect red roses—which he brought a vase for, knowing there was nothing at the station for them already. When she got home, there was another dozen roses on the counter, these ones white, and a small, handwritten note making sure she knew to be ready to go at 6 for their dinner—and now they were going somewhere that needed reservations? Emma was fairly sure— positive, actually, that no one had ever treated her as well as Killian had already today, not to mention the innumerable marvelous things he’s done for her on a daily basis.

And that’s why, more than anything else, she is excited to tell him her news, because if she was in another situation like she was when she found out she was having Henry, she’s not sure that she would be able to do it all again.

The restaurant is about a half an hour outside Storybrooke, a small, dimly-lit Italian restaurant with actual, real-life candles lit at each table, and the maitre’d leads them to a table by the window, looking out over the water.

Emma orders a water, which Killian raises an eyebrow at, but when the waiter walks away, she says, “Look at the prices on this menu, Killian. I don’t need a fifteen dollar drink.”

“Don’t worry about the prices, love. Just get whatever you want.”

They order appetizers, some fried seafood and this fresh mozzarella platter that comes highly recommended by their waitress, but Emma can’t wait any longer—she is practically buzzing with the excitement that has welled up inside her since she learned the news earlier that week, and especially since she decided to tell him here, tonight.

“Killian,” she says, reaching her hand across the table to take his, and when he turns her eyes up at her, staring at her through his eyelashes, she realizes that there must have been something in her voice that worries him, especially once he asks,

“What’s the matter, love?”

Smiling, she shakes her head. “No, no, nothing’s the matter. Actually, everything is perfect, but everything with you always is. I just—I have something I want to tell you.”

The worry melts off his face, replaced with a smile that she can swear lets off more light than the candle sitting between them. “What is it?”

Suddenly, she is so excited that she can’t seem to get her words out in the right order: “You know that—that thing that we talked about at the end of the summer, the, uh, the thing that we wanted to do, and that I said I might need to go to the—go back to the doctor for, before we were sure of anything?”

He raises his eyebrow, but the smile on his face continues to spread, though possibly just at her sudden inability to speak. “Yes, I think I know what you’re talking about.”

“Well, it—it happened, Killian, and we don’t have to go to see any doctors or anything because it happened and I’m—I’m pregnant.” She says the words out loud for the first time (though she has only been sure for three days), and then she says them again. “I’m pregnant, Killian. We’re—we’re having a baby. ”

She watches his Adam’s apple bob up and down, his eyes unfaltering from her face, the biggest and most brilliant smile that she has ever seen spread across his face, and the fact that he does not say anything worries her for a moment, until he pulls his hand away from hers to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye.

“You’re pregnant,” he says finally, then takes a deep breath, the candlelight between them flickering in his eyes. “ Bloody hell, we’re going to have a baby.” His voice is breathy, and she can tell that she is trying to hold himself together.

Until he suddenly jumps up, feeling the pockets of his jacket, then his pants, frantically, before turning her eyes back to her, quickly saying, “I’ll be right back,” before walking right past her and through the restaurant.

Intrigued, she watches him as he approaches the host’s station by the door, his hand against the man’s shoulder, and he leans in to say something into his ear. After a moment, they both turn to her, sitting at the table, and she raises her hand in a confused wave. The maitre’d nods, then leads Killian through the restaurant and back through a set of double doors.

Losing her point of concentration, she turns back towards the table, one hand on her stomach, and the other brings her glass of water to her lips. “You better not be causing trouble already,” she says out loud to the human growing in her stomach.

Killian is only gone for a few more seconds, quickly appearing back beside their table before she can take another drink of water, and the way his hair is sitting mussed on his head tells her that wherever he went, he was pulling at it with his hand.

“Emma,” he breathes, standing beside her, and she turns in the chair to face him. “I was going to wait until later to do this, and that’s why I gave it to the waitress to bring out with the dessert, but now seems as perfect a time as any. We’re—we already have our own little family, but now we’re adding another one, and I—I was obviously already going to ask you this before you told me you’re pregnant, but now it just seems all the more important to really become a family.” He pulls his hand out of his pocket, revealing a perfect, sparkling diamond ring, then kneels on the floor beside her chair. “Emma Swan, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

She reaches out, pressing the fingers of her right hand against his cheek while giving him her left, and he slides the ring on her finger. “You’re serious about this, Killian? You’re sure you want to marry me?”

“You’re carrying my child, love. There is nothing that I want to do more.”

She feels her lip quivering, threatening to burst out from where it is tucked under her teeth. “Ghosts and all?” she asks, her voice no more than a whisper.

“Ghosts and all, Emma Swan. I told you, I’m in this for the long haul.”

#fall for cs #fallforcs #my writing #wordsbymeganmichael #cs ff #cs fics #captain swan

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

Text

You’re Killing Me, Swan - Chapter 1

You’re Killing Me, Swan

Rating: G

It’s reveal day! Woo! So, yes, the Sandlot AU fic is mine. I hope you all love it because I really enjoyed writing it!

The @fallforcs project is a marvelous idea, and it is wonderfully run. If it’s around next year, I’m in. It was an absolute delight to work with everyone. @theonceoverthinker was my beta, and the universe must have intervened to match us up. She’s one of my greatest friends irl, and her vastly different takes on my story improved things. I wouldn’t have a piece to be proud of if not for her. I owe her more thank yous than I can get out.

@sailingcaptainswan: Do you know how excited I was when I saw your name on my artwork?! Seeing that I got lucky enough to get another piece done by you made me ridiculously happy. You continue to be one of my favorite people ever, and I'm glad to hear you liked this even though baseball isn’t really your thing. Your artwork is just too cute! I smile every time I see it. It’s so well done. Thank you so much!!!

And now, Chapter 1 of “You’re Killing Me, Swan.”

Also on Ao3

There is one all-time greatest moment in the history of sports, and it happened in the 1932 World Series. The story goes that in the bottom of the ninth inning with two outs, a full count and the tying run on base, Babe Ruth raised his arm and pointed to the center field bleachers. No one believed it, because nobody had ever done it before. But The Babe was calling his shot. On the next pitch, the Great Bambino hit a towering home run. And even though he'd been a hero before that, that's pretty much how he became a legend. Sixty years later, a kid named Killian Jones was a neighborhood legend. We met in the greatest summer of my life when he taught me to play baseball, and he became my best friend, and maybe a little more than that.

-----

Killian Jones was always going to do great things in the world of baseball. Emma knew this from the first moment she saw him. She had just moved in with a new foster family, the Swans, and was sitting on the porch of her new house with a book. Killian was 15, tossing a baseball in the air and catching it in his glove as he walked along the street. Emma was 13, but she was instantly drawn to him. He stopped in front of her house inexplicably, looked over at her, and smiled. She smiled back. He nodded and went back to walking, tossing the ball along the way. Emma watched him walk away, then went back to her book.

------

Emma had long, light blonde hair. She had green eyes with hazel flecks in places. She liked to wear oversized flannel shirts, T-shirts, and jean shorts. She was a pretty girl, but she never emphasized her beauty.

Killian was a tall and lanky teen. He didn't look like he had power, but he had the best swing of anyone. His eyes were always the brightest, clearest blue. He had a mop of chestnut brown hair atop his head. He always looked curious, like he wanted to learn more.

------

In all her foster homes -- out of all seven of them, no one had ever taught Emma how to play catch. And it didn’t bother her most of the time, just when she got put in homes in neighborhoods with lots of kids. They all played in clearings and backyards, and she would watch from the window in her room. She didn’t even know how to catch a ball, or throw one for that matter. At the rate she moved, no school would put her in a gym class because they figured she wouldn’t be around long enough to buy a uniform. And no gym uniform meant that she couldn’t participate in PE. Emma did feel lucky she never had to take gym class, as that would most likely involve a ball of some sort. But in general, to save herself the embarrassment, she had fun doing other things. She liked to read, and she was very artistic. Still, she longed to be able to run around with all the other kids her age, and to maybe even make a couple friends.

So far, moving in with the Swans was no different than any of the other homes. Emma would often sit on her porch steps with a book, which she used as a cover as she watched the neighborhood kids riding bikes and playing soccer in their yards. From her foster father’s office, she could see a clearing behind her house where some kids were in a perpetual game of kickball. Emma never felt comfortable asking to join. Even if she could kick the ball, she could never play in the field. They’d laugh and she’d never be invited to play ever again. So she would just watch.

-----

“Emma, honey.” Emma looked up from her book as her foster mother, Ingrid Swan, came into her bedroom. Emma bookmarked her page and sat up against her headboard.

“Hi,” Emma smiled at her new mother.

Ingrid hesitated before sighing and asking, “have you made any friends yet?”

Emma shrugged in response.

“I love that you love reading, and I love how creative you are,” she gestured to the pictures Emma painted taped on wall and the library books littering her desk, “but I think it would be good for you to make some friends with kids in the neighborhood. Maybe you can play outside with them every once in a while. A little sun is good for you.” Emma opened her mouth to respond, but Ingrid beat her to it, “and, yes, I know you read outside, but we both know that’s not what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know.” She thought for a moment. “I’ll try.” That’s what Ingrid would hope to hear, and Emma felt she needed her new mother to be happy. If Ingrid wasn’t happy with Emma, she could send her back, and that was the last thing Emma wanted.

“There’s more to this, isn’t there, hon?” Emma bit her lip and nodded. “Emma, you can tell me.”

“It’s just,” she hesitated. Ingrid looked so caring, and Emma really wanted this to work. So she took a deep breath and continued. “I don’t know how to catch a ball. Or throw one.” She muttered the words quietly, but Ingrid appears to have been able to hear her. “I never had anyone to teach me, so I never learned.”

Ingrid smiled. “Well, let’s fix that.”

“What?”

“Did you know your father used to want to be a baseball player?”

Emma smiled. “Really?”

“When he was little, he would draw his own baseball cards. Arthur Swan, pitcher. I bet he’d love to teach you.”

Emma was excited by the thought. She was actually going to learn how to play ball like the other kids. “Yeah, okay. That sounds great.”

-----

“Alright, Emma, I’m going to throw this baseball to you. You’re going to catch it in your glove.” Emma nodded. Arthur nodded back and threw the ball underhand, right for her glove. She recoiled away from it.

“Sorry!” She grabbed it, worried he’d give up on her.

“It’s alright, kid. You don’t need to be afraid of the ball. It doesn’t hurt to catch.” She nodded. “Okay. Now throw it back to me.” She looked at the ball, then at her foster father, then back at the ball. “Just bring your arm back, then guide it forward and let go.”

Emma brought her arm back, but she let go too soon and the ball went behind her. She let out another “sorry” and went to grab the ball. This time, she ran it back to Arthur.

“Let’s work on catching first then," Arthur started, a determined grin on his face as he held the ball in front of his right eye. "Keep your eye on the ball, and don’t back away. Got it? They key to this game is keeping your eye on the ball. No matter whether you're in the field or at bat, eye on the ball, okay?”

He looked to Emma to see if she understood, and Emma nodded sheepishly even though she had just about zero confidence in her ability to catch a baseball.

Staring across the yard at her foster dad, only one thought circled through her mind: How was she going to catch anything?

"Trust me, Emma," Arthur said, seemingly sensing her apprehension. "I used to be so good that my friends called me The King. Thought I was gonna be the next Bambino." Emma stared blankly, clearly not getting the reference. Arthur waved his hand dismissively. "That's a lesson for another day. Anyway, what you've gotta know is where the ball goes, your glove should go." He paused before asking, "got it?”

“Yeah, okay."

Arthur nodded at her, confident that he could help his new daughter catch a ball.

“Okay, alright,” he said before giving a final nod to Emma to let her know he was about to throw it. When she held her glove up in front of her, he sent the ball her way.

Apparently, Emma took his advice quite literally because in one moment, she saw Arthur toss the ball, and in the next, there was pain in her eye as her glove went into it.

“Ow!" she cried. "Oh, my eye! Ow! Ow!”

Out of her good eye, Emma watched Arthur drop his own glove and run over to her, calling for Ingrid as he did so. Ingrid ran out to find them both struggling to get Emma’s eye open so they could assess the damage.

However, despite the pain and temporary blurred vision in one of her eyes, Emma was able to see a silver lining.

“I kept my eye on the ball!” She laughed as Arthur pried her glove off her hand.

“You also caught the ball!" He held up her glove, newly pulled off her hand, the ball snugly inside.

Ingrid was not waiting around for Emma and Arthur to finish their bonding conversation when Emma was injured. “Emma, let’s go inside and get some ice on that before it swells more.” She followed Ingrid inside, Arthur trailing not far behind. Ingrid grabbed an ice pack from the freezer, wrapped it in a towel, and placed it over Emma’s eye.

“It’s going to bruise. I’m sorry, Em.”

“Arthur, how did this even happen?” Ingrid crossed her arms as Emma took over pressing the ice pack into her own face.

“I - uh,” Arthur stuttered, seemingly confused himself as to how such an event managed to occur. He looked at Emma, standing between her foster parents with an ice pack covering half her face. “It'll still be black, but it won't swell. Sorry.” He looked nervous, like Emma would up and run away because of an accidental black eye.

“It’s okay. I caught the ball.” And when all three Swans started to laugh, Emma finally felt like she might actually be a part of a forever family.

-----

Walking home from the library one day, black eye still present, Emma stopped by the field in which the neighborhood kids were playing baseball. She watched them day after day as she passed the field, but this is the first time she stopped. They played every day, the game seemingly never-ending. Every day, they picked up where they left off. They didn’t keep score. They played because they loved it.

Tightening her grip on her book to bring her back to reality, she became aware of voices yelling in her direction.

“Hey!”

“Can you get the ball?”

“Throw it back!”

Emma looked around quickly trying to find their ball. She spotted it a few feet to her left. She ran to grab it, then froze.

“Hey, just throw the ball!”

“What’s taking you so long?” “Throw it back!”

She didn’t know how to throw properly, but she was overwhelmed by screaming boys. Against her better judgment, she pulled her arm back and threw the ball. Only, it didn’t go more than three feet. The screams that had just overwhelmed her quickly turned to laughter, and she scanned the faces of the eight boys a few times before muttering a “sorry” and running the rest of the way home. She was upset her unfortunate eye on the ball situation halted her lesson. She needed to learn to play, and she needed to get redemption.

-----

Emma sat on her front porch reading her latest recommendation from the librarian. She was getting lost in the novel, her senses to her actual, physical setting seeming to dull as she digested the words on the page. It would take her two days maximum to finish this one.

Emma was snapped back to reality when her peripheral vision picked up on a figure sitting next to her. She bookmarked her page and and turned toward the intruder so she could get rid of whoever it was. She quickly lost sight of that goal when she saw Killian Jones -- that kid with the baseball and the team -- smiling at her. He was something of a neighborhood legend, whispers about him fluttering through the kids at neighborhood parties she attended with Ingrid and at the community pool when she went to cool off. And being a part of a neighborhood, it was easy to catch gossip as she read or drew quietly outside. She was a near-expert eavesdropper.

“The Outsiders?”

“What?”

“Your book.” He pointed to her lap. “The Outsiders. We read it in school last year.”

She let out a quiet, “oh.”

“It’s a fantastic read. Are you enjoying it?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s pretty good. I’m not really that far yet.” She held up the book so he could see the ratio of read pages to unread. She hoped he’d understand that she wanted to read uninterrupted.

He didn’t take the hint. “Would you like to play baseball with me? I’ve got a whole team -- well, almost. I was kind of hoping you’d be our ninth player.”

“I - I can’t play baseball. You saw me.”

He didn’t let her finish her thought. “Sure you can.”

“I really can’t.”

“It’s instinctual.”

“I don’t have those instincts.” Emma could already tell this wasn’t going to be an easy victory. They were clearly both stubborn.

“Could you just show up? Take up space? There’s a gaping hole where a player should be.”

“And if the ball comes to me?”

“You’ll know what to do in the moment.”

“I really won’t.”

He stared at the lawn for a few seconds, seemingly considering his next move.

“I’m Killian Jones, by the way.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Oh, so you’ve heard of me?” He quirked his eyebrows in such a way Emma couldn’t help but smile.

“Emma.” She held out her right hand. He took it in his own.

“You’re the new Swan kid.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

He let go of her hand and smirked. “Welcome to the neighborhood, Swan. I’ll be by tomorrow, and we’ll walk to the sandlot together.” He stood up and started walking away. Emma’s jaw was nearly on the ground.

Pulling herself together, she yelled after him, “I didn’t say I’d join your team.”

He stopped walking but didn’t turn around. “Something tells me you will. I promise you’ll have fun.” He turned around, smile already planted on his face. “Dress comfortably.” He took off his baseball cap and threw it to her. It landed on the ground at her feet. “And wear that.” He turned back around confidently and began walking away.

In that moment, staring at Killian Jones’ back disappear, she knew he had won.

-------

“Alright, guys. This is Emma Swan. She's our ninth man. Now we have a full team.”

“Why did you bring her, Jones?”

“Yeah, she can't play.”

“She ain’t game.”

“Come on, Jones. We were fine before.”

“Look, I want a full team. Now we have it.” Killian glanced between Emma and the boys.

“We had a full team before Booth moved away.”

“Yeah, and we never filled in Booth’s spot. Why now?”

“With her, I get to rotate eight positions instead of seven. I need the practice, guys.”

“You're the best on the team. You don't need any practice.” All the boys groaned but the one that said this. He stood with his arms crossed, seemingly studying Killian. His gaze barely lingered on Emma. That was different from the other boys, all of who are shooting daggers her way.

“No, you don't.”

“You're the best, man.”

“Come on, Jones, man. The girl is…”

“...A weenie!”

“Yeah. Oscar Mayer even. Foot-long!”

“What are you laughing at, Scarlet? You run like a duck.” That shut the boy - Scarlet - up real fast.

“Look, man, you saw the way she throws. She can’t play.”

“It's not like you were all great players when you started. So give her a chance. She's got it. I'm telling you.”

The kid -- Scarlet -- spoke up again. “Guys, don’t you see Jones only brought her here because he wants her to be his girlfriend?” Emma felt her cheeks warm immediately. She felt her hand sweating in the glove Killian gave her before they arrived at the field, on the correct hand after Killian had corrected her when she initially put it on the wrong hand. There were snickers across the group until Killian flashed them all a glare that not one of the other kids dared to challenge.

There was silence among the boys as they continued looking Emma over. Killian took Emma’s elbow and pulled her closer to the rest of the group.

“Swan, this is Liam, my older brother. He’s 18, but he hangs out with us while he works part-time so he can get a car.” The tall, curly haired boy -- man -- was the one watching Killian instead of her earlier. He failed to hold back a knowing smile as he looked between Emma and Killian. Emma crushed an ant in the dirt under her shoe.

Killian, either oblivious to the situation or just trying to ignore it, continued the introductions. “This is Eric. We call him Squints because he's blind without his glasses. This is Will Scarlet, David Nolan, Robin Locksley. This is Grumpy and Sneezy; they're twins. Grumpy’s got an attitude and Sneezy has year-round allergies.”

There were a few muffled “hey”s and some barely intelligible “hi”s. There was a rogue sneeze. Emma bent her elbow slightly in attempt to wave. She croaked out a soft, “hi,” as she avoided eye contact with any of the boys. She tucked some hair behind her ear and looked at Killian as the silence got unbearable.

“Alright, guys.” Killian looked them over for a second, eyes landing on Emma, “team,” he corrected. “Let's play ball!”

The boys all screamed as they took their positions.

“Swan, left field!” Emma nodded and made her way over to where she approximated left field might be. From the laughs that followed, she figured she was wrong. “More to your left, Swan.” She did what she was told, looking at Killian for a cue that she was in the right place. When he smiled and nodded, she stopped and let out a deep breath.

She shuffled her feet as Killian tossed the ball in his hand for a few moments before stepping up to the plate.

“Swan, catch this and throw it to second!” Robin waved her glove at her from second base.

“Jones, why?” Will groaned.

“She's not going to catch it, Jones!” Squints punctuated the accusation with a stomp of his foot.

“She's a square, Jones. The girl's a square!” That was clearly Sneezy, as he sneezed between sentences.

“Hey,” everyone turned to look at Liam when he spoke. “Killian brought her here for a reason. I'm sure she'll be great.” He sent Emma an encouraging smile over his shoulder, and she smiled back in appreciation.

Liam seemed to shut everyone up, and there were only inaudible grumbles as everyone took their places and turned their attention to home plate, where their captain waited to get the game started.

David pitched the ball, which Killian hit easily. It landed right next to where Emma stood in the field. If Emma could catch, it would've been easy. But Emma did not know how to catch, so she watched it fall to the ground.

“Swan, what the hell?” Will was the first to comment.

“I knew it.” Squints sighed.

“You didn't even try!” David chimed in.

“What was that, sister?” Grumpy crossed his arms.

“I told you, Jones!” Sneezy’s comment followed his brother’s.

Emma watched the group of boys switch their gazes between Killian and her.

“Alright, alright. Calm down, guys.” Killian jogged over to Emma in the field. “Hey, Swan, you okay?” He kept his voice down so only she could hear it.

“I- um, I don't know how to catch. I was learning. The glove went into my eye, and that's how I got my black eye.”

Killian nodded in understanding.

“Just hold your glove out, and I'll take care of getting the ball there.”

“Yeah, okay.” Emma dropped her gaze to her glove.

Killian turned to head back to the plate when he noticed Emma didn't exactly look confident.

He lifted her chin so their eyes met. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Emma nodded.

“Just keep your glove out. I promise you'll catch it.”

“Okay. I'll do it.” She smiled at him, causing him to smile back. And then another realization hit her as Killian went to head back to home plate once again. “Killian, wait!”

He raised his eyebrows in question.

“I don't know how to throw either.” Killian watched her cheeks turn pink as she blushed in embarrassment.

Avoiding Killian's eyes, she noticed Liam watching his brother help her out with approval. She took her attention away from Liam and put it back on Killian.

“Hey, hey” he started softly and gently. “You think too much.”

“What?”

“You know how to throw.” Killian looked confident.

“I really don’t.” She pulled the bill on her hat down slightly.

“Sure you do. You just need a coach who knows what he’s doing.”

She looked at him skeptically.

Killian crossed his arms in amusement. “I bet you get straight A's and stuff, don't you?”

“I got a B once. Well, it was an A-, but it should've been a B.” She felt embarrassment wash over her. Why was her achievement in school suddenly a bad thing?

Killian sighed, but it wasn't condescending. “You're killing me, Swan.” He paused. “Alright. Well, this is baseball. You need to stop thinking and just,” he took his baseball cap off, ran his hand through his hair, then put the cap back on, “have fun.”

“I am having fun,” she retorted defensively.

“If you were having fun, you would've caught the ball.”

“There's got to be more to it than that.”

Killian thought for a moment before moving to stand behind her rather than across from her.

“Okay, Swan, don't jump. I'm going to take your hand for a minute.”

“Okay,” she croaked out, barely a whisper.

He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and raised it over her head until her hand was behind her head. She was too young to understand the reason she instantly broke out into goosebumps at his touch, but she would look back later and realize that she felt sparks at that moment.

“You just raise your arm like this,” he positioned her hand until it was at the highest point in an arc, “and when your hand gets to here, just let go.”

“Just let go,” she repeated.

“That's all there is to it.” He let her arm drop as he moved so he was facing her again. “You can do it. Just have fun, and just let go.” He smiled at her before heading back to his position. Emma looked at the glove on her hand as she extended her arm out.

“About time, Jones. My clothes are going out of style.”

“They already are, Squints. Shut up.”

David doubled over with laughter as Killian lined up his stance.

“Ready, Swan?” Killian yelled from home plate.

“Yeah!”

She watched Killian throw the ball into the air, then heard the crack of the bat as he hit it. Next thing she knew, the ball was in her glove. He was right. She just had to stop thinking so much.

She beamed with the realization that she can actually catch a ball when she heard Robin yelling her way.

“Over here, Swan!” His glove was over his head. She pulled her arm back, brought her arm forward and just let go. And Robin caught it just a couple feet before the base.

“I knew she could do it!” Liam gave her a thumbs up as the other boys cheered for her.

“Alright. She's alright.” Will smiled approvingly.

“Told you so, man.” Killian smirked.

“Alright, team,” David shouted, “let's play ball!”

------

Emma had just made it through her first game on the sandlot.

“Wait, Killian.” She jogged the couple feet to catch up to him when he stopped on his way jogging to his house.

“Aye?”

“Why did you bring me in the game? I’m not stupid. I know the rest of the guys didn’t want me there. And I know Scarlet was just pushing your buttons when he suggested,” Emma trailed off so as to not actually repeat Will’s idea that there might be something more to the new friendship.

Killian smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He let the thought linger for a moment before countering the idea. “I know what it’s like to be the new kid. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not from around here.” Emma laughed as he emphasized his very British accent.

“The thought may have crossed my mind.”

“Well, you were new..” There was more to that. They both knew it. “And besides, we needed a ninth man,” he paused, “or woman, I guess.”

“Thanks, Killian. I…” Emma stopped mid-sentence and decided to leave the emotions off the field. “It just means a lot.”

“Of course, Swan.”

-----

As the summer went on, Emma and Killian increasingly snuck away from the group to play catch by themselves. As much as they loved the full-team games, they realized more and more how nice it was to spend time just the two of them.

“So how did you get so good at this?” Emma threw the ball, and it landed directly in Killian's glove.

“At what?”

“You know,” Emma gestured between them, “this.” Killian laughed and raised his eyebrows for clarification. “How did you learn to play baseball?”

“Well, baseball didn't entirely catch on in the U.K.”

Emma held out her glove. He threw her the ball, which she caught. She still felt a surge of pride whenever she caught a baseball. Emma held out the hand holding the baseball in question, silently asking if Killian was ready for her throw. He motioned for her to keep it and walked to a tree in the clearing and sat, leaning against it. Emma followed.

“When I was young, around 4, my father started dating a woman, even though he was still married to my mum. But this woman, she was married and involved with a man with access to much of London's financial assets. And with money comes power.” Emma watched as Killian stared at the ground throughout his story. “When the man found out about the affair, he paid off some detectives and government officials. My father got into a lot of trouble for nothing really, since you can't really get arrested for cheating on your wife. Anyway, he fled to escape the charges.” Killian let his head rest against the tree, closed his eyes, and rubbed his forehead. After taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and looked at Emma. “He left one night and never came back. My mum was ill at the time. If she hadn't recovered, I don't know where I'd have ended up.”

“Hey,” Emma said gently, “you don't have to tell me.” She was no stranger to the sob story, what with parents who left her on the side of a highway when she was barely more than a year old. She didn’t like to dwell on her own past, so if Killian didn’t want to share, she’d absolutely respect that.

“No. It's - it's okay. My mum got better. Even though we were too young, Liam and I still got part-time jobs while she recovered. We knew a couple people in our apartment complex willing to hire us to help us out. When we saved enough, she moved us here.”

“To Storybrooke?”

“Aye,” he nodded. “It was unheard of. My father would never find us here. And it's a small town. My mum just wants Liam and me to be happy and have a real childhood. She still feels bad I was working at 7 years old.”

“So where does baseball come in?”

“Liam is only three years older than me, but I idolized him growing up. He was more of a father to me than my real dad ever was. Liam - he came home from school with a baseball, and he taught me to play. He learned at school, and I learned from him. We played, just the two of us, for months. Then I met Robin and David. I’ve always felt - I don’t know - different from everyone else. Liam and I would never be like other kids, even though our mum recovered. But when we hung out with Robin and David, I learned that baseball was universal. No matter our beginnings, all that mattered was what was on the field. I’m not a near-orphan who started working at 7. When I play baseball, I’m a baseball player, same as everyone else.” By the end of his story, his eyes had moved from Emma’s to the distance, and he stared at the horizon as he spoke. He only returned his gaze to Emma’s after he was done talking.

Emma smiled at him. “And look at you now.”

“Look at us now.” Killian smiled back at her and nodded toward the ball in her glove, “you appear to be a natural.” She laughed, and Killian looked at her meaningfully. “I don't mean to upset you, Swan, but you're part of the team.”

-----

Private games of catch became a regular thing for Emma and Killian. Every so often, they'd escape to play and talk while getting to know each other.

“Who's your favorite player?”

“What?” Emma threw the ball back to Killian. He caught it easily.

“Baseball -- who's your favorite player?”

“Um.” Emma held up a hand to signal him to wait to throw it. Killian raised his eyebrows.

“You don't have a favorite player?” he asked in disbelief.

“I - uh, I've never seen a real game.” Her voice was quiet with embarrassment.

“Really? Never seen a real game?! You're killing me, Swan! They're on TV all summer.”

“My last foster home didn't have a TV. And the group home I stayed at between families certainly couldn't afford a TV.” She stared at a strand of hair between her fingers.

She was expecting Killian to apologize for her past or to mention how bad he feels for her. To Emma's delight, he didn't linger on her history. “You have to come over and watch one!”

“What?” Emma laughed. She was so used to people treating her differently when they learned about the conditions in her group homes and foster families, but Killian was more concerned with getting her to see a game. It was refreshing.

“Come over! We'll watch whatever game is on now.” He held his hand out to her. She took it and he led them to his house. When they got inside, Liam was already on the couch watching baseball.

“Hey, Emma. Hey, little brother.”

“Hi, Liam,” Emma smiled at him as she sat on the couch at Killian's signal.

“Younger brother,” Killian muttered under his breath as he sat right next to Emma.

“What game is on?”

“Red Sox-Yankees.”

“Ooh,” Killian leaned forward, closer to the TV. “Swan, this is a great game to start with.”

Liam looked their way. “First baseball game?” he asked. Emma nodded. “Killian's right. This is a great start. This is one of the biggest rivalries in baseball.”

“Check these guys out, Swan! I want to be just like them when I get older.”

“You will,” Emma said. You're the best player on the team. Like, you're way better than the rest of us.” Killian's cheeks were tinged pink and the tips of his ears burned red as a result of her compliment. She found she liked having that effect on him. Emma tried to keep her eyes trained on the game, but she couldn't quite help it as her gaze repeatedly landed on Killian.

“Hey, Killy,” Liam started. Killian grumbled at the nickname. “What do you say we take Emma to a game this summer?”

Both Killian’s and Emma's eyes lit up.

“That'd be awesome, Liam! She'd love it!”

“You guys don't have to do that.” Emma didn't want them taking her because they felt bad for her.

“We want to, Emma,” Liam assured “You're one of us.”

“Would you come, Swan?” Killian looked at her with such hope in his blue eyes.

Emma shrugged. “Yeah, okay. That would be amazing.”

Liam told her, “I'll talk to your parents later to work out a good day to go.”

“Thanks, guys. I'm really, really excited!”

“It'll be a pleasure to have you with us, Emma.”

“You'll love baseball even more going to an actual, major league game.” It was clear Killian had such a deep love for the game. Emma was fascinated by his infatuation with baseball. She was delighted to see him so excitable and passionate. “Swan?”

She snapped out of her thoughts. “Yeah?” Emma stared at her lap. That clearly wasn’t the first time he tried to get her attention.

“Do you still want to watch the game?” She had totally been watching him watch the game rather than the television screen itself.

“Yeah, totally.”

Killian seemed satisfied with that, pointing to the screen at different moments, explaining to her who the players were and giving their stats. And in the corner of her eye, Emma noticed Liam watching the two of them interact. He always had this look on his face like he knew something no one else did. Emma shook it off and turned back to the screen, paying attention so she'd understand all Killian's explanations. Once she really got into it, she found herself really engrossed in the game. She was able to understand some of the terms for the plays, and she even started calling them toward the last couple innings. Killian looked immensely proud, which made her even happier with herself. In the end, Emma loved watching the game, and was really looking forward to getting to go to a real, live game with the brothers Jones.

-----

Killian was always down for a game of baseball.

He would've played ball all day, all night, rain, shine, tidal wave - whatever. However, the other kids were not so willing to play when the temperature and humidity partnered to make it feel well over 100 degrees. But of all the things the group ever did besides baseball, going to the pool was what he tolerated best.

On the days it was too hot for the rest of them, there was nothing the group loved more than spending the day at the Storybrooke community pool. And Killian was happy to join his friends there if he absolutely had to leave the sandlot.

It was Emma's first time at the pool with her new friends, and they were all having the greatest time swimming around, splashing each other, and trying to outdo each other's wacky jumps. Well, all the kids were in the pool but Eric.

“What's Eric's deal?” Emma swam over to the wall Killian was leaning against. Killian glanced in Eric's direction, but Eric paid no mind to his fellow teammates.

“He only comes to the pool to stare at Ariel.” Killian chuckled and crossed his arms.

“Who's Ariel?”

Killian pointed at a redhead sitting in a lifeguard chair. “She's here every day, all day. I've never seen her anywhere but watching over this pool.”

Emma looked back at Eric. He looked absolutely smitten. He was sitting on a pool chair, knees to his chest. His chin rested on his knees as he stared at the object of his affection.

“He doesn’t know how to swim,” Killian revealed. “Sometimes he comes in as far as he can stand. But most of the time, he just does this.”

Will swam up next to Emma and Killian and followed their gazes. “Hey, Squints! You going to come in or what?”

Eric glared at Will, then glanced back at the lifeguard. She was smiling, probably laughing at the scene below. With a loud huff, Eric stood up, took his glasses off and put them on his towel, and walked towards the diving board.

“Squints, what the hell are you doing?” Killian's face dropped with concern as Eric made his way onto the board.

“Oi, mate! You're going to fall off the board without your glasses!” Robin shoved himself against the wall between Emma and Killian.

Eric shook his head and took a tentative step forward.

“Eric, stop!” Emma screamed.

“You can’t swim, Squints!” Killian reminded him.

He looked in the general direction of the group, unable to see clearly without his glasses, and smiled. “Trust me.” And with three more steps forward, he cannonballed into the water.

“Did he tell anyone about this?” Liam stared down the group as if someone knew something.

The whole group shook their heads no. There were a couple voices shouting, “no,” and Sneezy, well, sneezed.

“Guys, he hasn't come up yet!” Grumpy yelled.

Emma yelled “help” to get the attention of the lifeguard. Hearing her cries, Ariel dove into the pool, spotting Eric at the bottom and swimming down to grab him. She pulled Eric up, and noticing he was unconscious, she laid him on the side of the pool and started administering CPR.

“Oh, god.” Emma climbed out of the pool and stood above Eric. The rest of the group was quick to follow, and they soon formed a circle around where Ariel was still trying to get Eric to breathe again.

“Come on, Squints. You've gotta pull through.” Killian looked as worried as she felt.

“Come on, Squints,” David added.

“Wake up! Breathe, would you?” Sneezy yelled at Eric as if that would make him regain consciousness.

“He looks real bad,” Will chimed in.

Scooting slightly closer to Killian, without thinking, Emma grasped his hand. He gave her hand a squeeze as they shared a glance before returning their attention back on Eric.

With no sign of improvement thus far, Ariel moved on and started to perform mouth-to-mouth on Eric.

“Lucky bastard gets to make out, and he's not even conscious,” Grumpy grumbled. There were a few chuckles, but it was hard to laugh while Eric was still ghostly pale.

As Ariel continued breathing for him, Eric opened his eyes and winked at his friends out of Ariel's view.

“He's okay!” David couldn't hold back his reaction.

When Ariel went down for her next breath, Eric grabbed her head and kept it pressed to his as he kissed her.

There was a chorus of “ooooh” from the boys and a gasp from Emma. When Ariel ripped herself out of Eric's grasp, she started shouting, banning the group for the rest of the summer, when they all grabbed their towels and took off. Laughing along the way, Emma ran right along with them. When they got back to the sandlot, Eric had his glasses back on and was receiving quite a few pats on the back from his friends.

“How long have you been planning that, man?” Liam had his arms crossed as he shook his head in amusement.

“Months,” Eric answered proudly.

There were more cheers for Eric as the group sat around and dried off in the sun.

On that day, Squints became a hero.

-----

So Ariel banned them from the pool for the summer, although she would later tell Emma she was welcome to come back as long as she left the team on the sandlot. Girls have to stick together. After all, females felt terribly outnumbered in this town. But despite Ariel’s initial anger, she was witness to how the group was more like family than just friends and teammates. She saw they had something special. The boys may have been banned from the pool for the rest of the summer, but they had to walk past the pool on the way to the nearest 7-11 for Slurpees and candy. And every time Grumpy ran out of bubble gum or Scarlet decided he was going to mix all the Slurpee flavors and down the largest size in less than 2 minutes to see how bad his brain freeze could get, the team went by the pool, right behind Ariel’s lifeguard chair. And Emma couldn’t help but chuckle as she noticed Ariel turn toward them and smile at Eric every time they walked by.

-----

The team was in the middle of gameplay when all the boys suddenly stopped playing. Emma stopped herself mid-run on her way to third and looked around at all her friends.

“What’s going on, guys?”

Liam, who was standing next to her as shortstop, pointed to the fence behind home plate and just said, “Cassidy.” She looked up at him for clarification, and he, sensing it wasn’t enough, looked down at his newest team member. “That’s Neal Cassidy. Killian used to play ball with him. They got into a fight one time when Cassidy said some things about,” he trailed off. “Well, he said some things about our father, and Killian just couldn’t brush it off.”

“He never told me about Neal,” Emma said quietly.

“He’d rather forget about Cassidy.” Emma caught Liam watching Killian. “Ever wonder why we play in some open clearing rather than a real diamond?” Emma shook her head; she hadn’t really thought about it before. “Cassidy is rich. His family has tons of money. His friends get to play on the real field in town. After their fight, Cassidy made sure Killian wouldn’t be able to play on a real field again.” Before Emma could say anything, Liam continued, “ever notice that scar on the back of Killian’s left hand? He busted his hand open on Cassidy’s face. Needed 16 stitches. And there’s the one on his cheek from where Cassidy got him back -- 7 stitches. The two really went at it. They hit each other real good, kept punching even when they both fell to the ground. It took six of us to break it up.”

“Wow. I didn’t know.”

“Killian and I and our mum -- we might not have much, but Killian is proud of what we do have. He’s proud of the life we have, and I know he’ll never forgive our father for what he did.” He looked at her as if to ask if she knew what Brennan had done. She nodded in response. He continued, “and he’ll always defend his family and friends.”

To his credit, Killian did not approach Neal. It was the latter who initiated. All the boys, still in their places on the field, groaned in unison as Neal and his posse made their way into the sandlot. David and Robin were the first to head over to Killian and stand on either side of him. Will, Eric, and the twins all took spots. Emma looked over at Liam as she tentatively walked toward the forming wall of boys. Liam followed her.

“Gee, Killian, how are you supposed to get better when you’re stuck playing with a bunch of rejects?”

“Shut your mouth, Pan,” Killian said through clenched teeth.

The kid in the middle - Emma assumed that was Neal - murmured something after that, but it was unintelligible.

“What’d you say, Cassidy?” Will asked.

“I said you shouldn't even be allowed to touch a baseball. Except for little Jones, you're all an insult to the game.”

Grumpy chimed in, “oh, yeah?”

Sneezy added a sarcastic, “you think so?”

Killian spoke up next. “Come on! We'll take you on right here, right now!”

Robin yelled, “come on,” as the rest of the guys shouted in agreement.

“We play on a real diamond, Jones.” The leader - Neal - spoke again.

“You ain't good enough to lick the dirt off our cleats,” Will crossed his arms.

“Watch it, jerk,” the tall kid - Pan - stepped toward Will.

“Shut up, idiot,” Will stomped his foot.

Emma stood there as the boys passed insults back and forth, some boys joining in with “oohs” as the insults got harsher and harsher.

“Moron!”

“Scab-eater!”

“Butt-sniffer!”

“Pus-licker!”

“You bob for apples in the toilet, and you like it!”

Neal laughed as he noticed Emma for the first time; it was a jarring sound against the backdrop of exchanged insults. “You got a girl on your team? Makes sense since you all play like girls!”

Everyone got real quiet at that. For a group of adolescent boys, there was no greater insult. Cassidy had crossed a line. It was clear no one had an answer to that…

...until Killian spoke up, getting nose-to-nose with Cassidy as he asserted, “you wish you played like Swan!”

“Yeah, right.” The boys next to Emma all laughed; Neal didn’t have a good comeback. Emma would’ve laughed, too, if she wasn’t still bug-eyed from Killian standing up to Neal to defend her.

Killian smirked as his team cheered his apparent victory in the insult war. He winked at Emma.

“Tomorrow at our field, noon,” Neal interrupted the celebration.

“We’ll be there,” Killian got even more in Neal’s face. Neal narrowed his eyes, gaze lingering on Emma as he smiled mischievously, before gesturing for his team to follow him away from the sandlot.

The chorus of cheers got louder when David yelled, “we’re going to kick their butts tomorrow!”

#fallforcs #fallforcaptainswan #fallforcs 2018 #you're killing me swan #thegirlinthebandtshirt #captain swan #cs ff #cs fanfic #once upon a time #sandlot au #there is baseball #and very young cs #and cs falling in love #I hope everyone loves it #sailingcaptainswan #theonceoverthinker #classiczebra

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eastwesthomeisbest · 6 years ago

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I was participating in the @fallforcs event and made the artwork for @ohmakemeahercules ’s story Wilderness of your heart! Check out the wonderful story of her. ❤❤❤

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jennjenn615 · 3 years ago

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I saw this cute video of a dad using his confused lil baby as a puppet and it gave me early S4 feels so I wrote a drabble lol. Some CS babysitting and traumatising poor little Neal.

Emma’s couldn’t control her giggling. She was on the verge of having tears running down her face. They were seated on the couch while Killian had her baby brother resting in the crook of his arm, his finger wiggling the baby’s bottom lip up and down in time with his grumpy voice.

“Why are you laughing at me, Emma? You’re supposed to be my big sister, not a bully!”

The absolute outraged look on little Neal’s face made the situation all the more hilarious to her, causing her laughter to grow.

“You’re going to traumatise him, stop it.”

“What’s traumatising is this powdered slop you make me drink.” he continued in a gruff voice, moving the baby’s bottom lip up and down. “I’m a prince, I deserve the good stuff!”

Poor little Neal’s face scrunched up even more, completely confused by what what going on, causing Killian to continue.

“I’ll be needing the cricket’s talking phone number too. There’s a fifty percent chance i’ll end up looking like my father.”

Emma smacked Killian’s arm at that comment, making him chuckle. It didn’t deter him from using the baby to talk for him.

“Bad form, big sis. It’s not nice to take my misfortune out on your boyfriend.”

Emma’s breath hitched at the term. They’d yet to have had the ‘what are we?’ talk. They’d only been seeing each other for a month or so.

Thankfully, Snow chose that moment to make her presence known, clearly catching the shenanigans in action.

“Just what exactly are you doing with my son?” she questioned good naturedly.

“Just teaching him to talk, your majesty.”

“Hmmm” she gave him an ‘i’m not buying it’ look and relieved him of his duties, picking the baby up to greet him.

Little Neal’s head kept turning to take in the strange man that had been manhandling his face.

“You’ve clearly made an impression.” Snow chuckled before carting the baby off to change his diaper.

Emma moved in closer now he was free, nestling herself into his side and sliding her arm around his waist.

“This is new.” he murmured.

“What’s that?”

“You being openly snuggly in front of your parents.”

“Yeah well… I found out my boyfriend’s a bit of a dork and it’s kind of endearing.”

His grin widened at her use of the word boyfriend, sealing their mutual confirmation that they were indeed an item.

“That he is, love.” he agreed, placing a kiss to her forehead and pulling her in close.

#captain swan #cs ff #captain swan fanfiction #fallforcs

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fallforcs · 6 years ago

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waiting for the tide

Art by: @rouhn

Author: @demisexualemmaswan

Summary: Captain Hook provides safe passage to Arendelle to Princess Emma and her son, Prince Henry. Emma and Hook hate each other at first—he believing that she’s a haughty princess and her believing he’s nothing more than a dirty pirate—and they’re both about to realize how wrong they are.

Rating and reason for the rating: T- some violence and swearing

Trigger warnings: Injury and blood mention

Shout outs to your beta reader and artist: Please!! They have both been AMAZING to me during this process. @ilovemesomekillianjones has had the patience of a saint and I so appreciate what she’s done for me! And same with my artist!

Killian leaned back in his usual corner of the tavern. He quite liked the port of Misthaven. Piracy was not a hanging crime here, and while he was wanted for some petty crimes, many of the guards paid him no mind as long as he didn’t cause too much of a scene.

After all, the King and Queen had much bigger issues on their hands than the likes of him. Rumors had begun to fly about the Evil Queen and the Dark One teaming up to take the throne from Queen Snow. And while Killian had his own grudges against the Dark One, he had no interest in attacking the Dark One when the man was backed by the Evil Queen.

After all, he prided himself on survival.

He was nursing a rum when the door opened, and two people stepped into the tavern. They turned away from the main crowd, so only their hoods were visible, but Killian could see them clearly: a man and a woman, starting to show their age.

They weren’t regular tavern goers. Their rigid posture and furtive glances gave them away almost immediately. He chuckled to himself, thinking they were awful at keeping themselves discreet when they came his way.

“Well this ought to be good,” he muttered to himself, leaning back against the wall. “M’lady,” he said with a smirk. “This ought to be an interesting proposition with that gentleman right beside you. Must be quite the boring marriage then, eh?”

“We should just go,” the man hissed to the woman.

“No, David, we need to do this,” the woman replied sadly. “We need to do this for Emma.” She sat in front of Killian and looked up at the man who accompanied her. With a sigh, the man sat down and held her hand with a sigh.

“Captain Hook. I understand that you have one of the fastest ships in all the realms,” the woman started, “and are an incredibly fearsome pirate captain.”

“Aye,” Killian replied, leaning back in his chair. “You heard correctly. And well done trying to flatter my ego, love.” He crossed his arms, trying to figure out who this woman was. He’d seen her face before, he was sure of it.

“We need passage for two to Arendelle,” David cut in roughly. “Can you do it or not?” The woman squeezed his hand softly and gave him a look of rebuke.

“And what do you need to go to Arendelle for? I’d hate to get caught up in something untoward. Or worse yet, one of Queen Elsa’s infamous blizzards,” Killian responded wryly, looking back and forth between the couple.

“You’re a pirate with a reputation longer than my sword, what do you care about propriety?” David demanded, slamming his hand on the table.

“David!” the woman said exasperatedly. She turned to Killian and added, “We just need safe passage away from the Evil Queen for our daughter and another family member.”

“Snow, it’s clear he won’t take this seriously, we should just-” David started, but Snow held her hand up for silence.

It was then that Killian understood. Before him sat the King and Queen of Misthaven. And they were asking him for a favor. A centuries old sting resurfaced as he remembered Liam, and he instantly declined their request. “Sorry, I don’t do favors for royals.”

David started to get upset but Snow didn’t seem flustered in the least. “Of course you will, because we’re going to pay you for your time and troubles. What is your price?” she said calmly, sitting straight up and looking him in the eye. She took her hood off so that there was nothing stopping Killian from making direct eye contact with her. “You know who we are, and so you know money is no hardship for us.”

Her stare was hard and confident. In spite of himself, Killian found himself grinning. He quite liked her spunk. “Fifteen thousand gold coins,” he said, leaning in. “And if I’m granted asylum in your kingdom, I’ll have your family there in two weeks. Do we have an accord?”

“Yes,” Snow said immediately, flourishing a paper.

“You had that made already? How did you know I would accept? How did you know that’s what I would ask for?” Killian asked bemusedly, reading over the terms to make sure they were up to snuff.

“I’d be a pretty poor Queen and an even worse bandit if I didn’t know my mark,” Queen Snow responded with a smirk of her own. When Killian returned the paper to her, she signed and pulled her hood back up. “Thank you, Captain. Your cargo will arrive at the dock at midnight tomorrow night.”

Queen Snow was gone before he could blink, but King David moved more slowly. “This is my daughter, my family you’re in charge of, pirate,” he told Killian, making sure to tower over him. “And whatever deal you have struck with my wife will be undone if anything happens to my daughter, do you understand me?”

“You have my word,” Killian replied, holding his hands up in surrender.

“You are protecting my family, my life,” the King told Killian fiercely. “And I don’t know if you’d understand what a man like me would do for his family. What I am willing to do for my family. So I need you to protect them like I would. Do you understand?”

Somehow, he understood.

–

A gentle footfall at the bottom of the gang plank grabbed his attention. The clear sky and bright moon above weren’t quite enough to illuminate the emerald green cloak making its way up to the deck of his ship. Remnants of dead leaves clung to the cloak’s hem as the figure came closer.

Killian knew that this was the woman, the princess he had been waiting for. He still couldn’t believe that the King and Queen of the realm had entrusted their daughter’s life to the notorious Captain Hook.

Moreover, he still couldn’t believe he’d agreed to do this.

But then the King’s pleading words about his family, and the fire in his eyes when talking about what he’d do for them, rang through his mind. He snorted.

“What’s so funny, pirate?"

The hood of the cloak revealed Princess Emma, just as imperious as he’d thought she’d be, glowering down at him. Now that she was closer, he could see she only carried a pack on her back, and a heavy bundle in her arms.

He’d already decided that he could wipe that look off of her face no problem. Just because he had agreed to protect her and grant her safe passage, didn’t mean he couldn’t rile her up a little bit.

"Nothing, your highness,” Killian said with a smirk. “Though, I must say, green certainly is your color."

"I am a princess, and you will show me the respect owed to me by that title,” she told him briskly.

The scowl that formed on her face only caused his smirk to deepen. Although, two weeks together with that attitude was going to be torture, he could already tell. He wasn’t wrong though. The green of the cloak highlighted the green of her eyes, and her golden, wavy hair certainly stood out against the darkness of the cloak.

“I am here because I was promised safe passage to Arendelle,” she said, stepping closer to him. “Nothing more. Am I clear?"

"Crystal,” he said, leaning into her, and she took a step backward. Before he knew it, she had dropped the bundle in her arms and he was up against the mast with a knife to his throat. “Ooh, you are a tough lass aren’t you?” he drawled at her.

“Mama?” The pack on her back rustled and a little face with brown eyes peered back at him. “Mama, what’s going on?"

Killian’s eyes widened. He remembered that the King had requested passage for two, but he had assumed that another adult would be joining them. It occurred to him then that the princess had carried her son on her back, all the way from the castle. He found himself momentarily awed by the young woman before him and her fortitude and bravery.

Prince Henry was Princess Emma’s five year old son, born from a torrid affair with the Dark One’s son, Baelfire. Killian now suspected that part of Rumplestiltskin and Regina’s combined alliance and pursuit of the throne had something to do with the boy, given Baelfire’s untimely death. Knowing all that, he couldn’t help but be impressed with the bold young woman’s dedication to keeping her son protected.

Emma stepped away from him and knelt down so Henry could clamber off her back. She winced slightly as bony elbows and knees collided with her side. "I was just making something clear to our host,” she told her son sweetly, picking him up and settling him on her hip. “Isn’t that right, Captain?” At this, she fixed Killian with a hard glare, her chin held high just like her mother had in the tavern.

“Aye,” Killian said, bowing to the prince and princess. “Captain Hook at your service.” He couldn’t help the smile as Henry whispered to his mother that this man was a pirate. But the whisper wasn’t filled with anger or disgust. It was filled with wonder and excitement.

“Yes. Captain Hook.” Her voice lingered hesitantly on his moniker. “He’ll be taking us to visit your Auntie Elsa in Arendelle. Won’t that be fun?” Henry nodded and she kissed his forehead. Her hand came to cup the back of Henry’s head protectively, which meant one thing to Killian: if anything happened to Henry, his neck would have a date with the gallows before he could blink.

“A faster and safer ship in all the realms there isn’t, young master,” he boasted, putting in a little flare to make the boy giggle. “Now, allow me to show you to your room and we’ll begin our journey."

Princess Emma bit her lip and cast a look behind her, whether a look of longing and farewell, or a look to make sure they hadn’t been followed he wasn’t sure, before nodding resolutely.

Before leading them down the stairs to his own quarters, he lingered on deck to tap his foot three times against the gangplank. This was a signal to the crew to begin prepping the ship for departure as silently as they could. They needed to be off before any of Regina’s spies or soldiers could find them.

"The Captain’s quarters,” he told them. He’d tidied up, and set up an additional hammock beside his bed, glad he had done so.

“You’re giving us your room?” the princess asked, turning to him. “But where will you sleep?” She seemed touched, the hauteur she had shown him starting to slip away.

And he couldn’t have that, he had a reputation to uphold, after all. Letting a princess see the softer side of him was not on his agenda at all. “Worried about me are you?” he leered. “Well, I could stay here and protect you and the lad if you’d like."

Emma rolled her eyes, an action that was decidedly not princess-like, and asked in exasperation, "Do you ever stop flirting? It’s already boring and tiresome and I have only had the decided pleasure to be in your company for five minutes."

Oh, this was going to be fun. He had no idea the princess was a sharp wit as well as beautiful. He was about to reply, something to the effect of if he had more than five minutes he’d show her how pleasurable his company could be, when Henry piped up, "Mama, what’s flirting?"

His face colored briefly, embarrassed that he’d been caught by a small child. Despite the teasing and prodding, it was bad form to flirt with a woman in front of her small child.

He had hoped Emma hadn’t noticed the blush, but one look at her face told him that he hadn’t such luck. With a smirk of her own, Emma turned to Killian and said in a sickeningly sweet voice, "Why don’t you ask the Captain, Henry?"

Damn this woman.

–

Emma’s eyes searched the cabin once Captain Hook left, really giving it an analytical eye. It was spacious enough for her to be comfortable, but the decorations and furniture were minimal. Beside the Captain’s bed and Henry’s hammock, there was a desk, a bookshelf that was practically overflowing, and a small table with two chairs.

She bit her lip, worrying for a moment there would be no place to safely hide her son. It was something she’d become used to in the years after Baelfire’s death. She never liked being in a place where Henry couldn’t hide, and several rooms in the palace were outfitted with fake drawers and hidden panels so Henry could hide in them as needed.

They had no such luxuries here.

Have I really done the right thing? Is fleeing on a pirate ship really safer than staying to fight the Evil Queen and the Dark One? Is being stuck with Captain Hook really the best option I have? she wondered.

Emma scowled, thinking of the overly flirtatious pirate captain that was going to be escorting them to Arendelle. She already couldn’t wait to leave him behind. He was irritating, the kind of irritating she’d seen many a times in court from men who were attractive and knew it.

Was Captain Hook really as attractive as he thought himself to be? With his too blue eyes, his scruffy cheeks, and the deep timbre of his voice…not that Emma noticed.

“He’s not that attractive anyway,” she muttered to herself, her cheeks turning pink when the echo of her words reached her ears. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud, especially not in front of Henry.

Shaking her head, she bit her lip again, trying to reorient herself with her original task: finding Henry a safe hiding place.

Henry clung to her skirt, his anxious face mirroring his mother’s almost exactly. She looked down at him and ran her hand through his hair before kneeling. “It’s okay, my Henry. We’re going to be just fine,” she soothed.

“Why aren’t Nana and Poppa coming with us?” Henry asked softly, linking his arms around her neck. Emma wrapped him up in a tight hug, cupping the back of his head.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she tried to focus on the warm weight of her son in her arms. He was so young, too young, to be caught up in all of this. She had gone most of her life without dealing with the harder parts of being heir to the throne.

“Why did we leave in the middle of the night? I know we are going to visit Auntie Elsa, but I’m scared, Mama,” he whispered into her ear.

“I know,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I know you’re scared. If I’m honest, Henry, I’m really scared too. But I promise that I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“This isn’t a regular visit to Auntie Elsa, is it?” Henry murmured in a small voice, and Emma squeezed him tighter, her eyes still closed. She loved how perceptive he could be, but it was times like this she wished she could do more to shield him from everything, or that he could enjoy his childhood without having to worry.

“No, it’s not,” she told him, and her eyes opened so she could look him in the eye. She brushed his hair away from his eyes and added, “Nana and Poppa are staying in the castle so that they can make sure everyone is safe. You and I are leaving so that we can see if Auntie Elsa can’t help us keep our people safe.”

“Who will keep us safe?” Henry questioned.

“I will,” Emma promised, pressing her forehead to his. It was then that she saw a wardrobe out of the corner of her eye. She walked toward it and opened it, beckoning Henry closer. “If you ever feel frightened and Mama can’t protect you, you come hide in here, okay?” she murmured.

Henry nodded and then raised his arms silently asking to be held. Emma was more than happy to comply. Anxiety swirled in her gut as she thought of her parents. She squeezed Henry closer, trying to ignore the guilt that coursed through her. It was all her fault, she should be there to stay and fight.

But her parents had insisted that her main priority was Henry and that she needed to give him his best chance. They needed to give her, her best chance. And she supposed they were right.

But it didn’t make things any easier to be apart from them.

“Mama?” Henry yawned, jerking her out of her thoughts. “I don’t wanna sleep in the hammock. Can I sleep with you?” He cuddled in closer to her, all but burying his face against her neck. Her heart warmed and she smiled in spite of the melancholy she’d been feeling moments before.

“Of course you can sleep with me tonight. I know being in a new place is frightening. We’ll protect each other,” Emma murmured softly, laying him down on the bed. The mattress was softer than she anticipated, and she smiled as Henry snuggled more into it. She took clothes out of the other pack she had brought for the both of them. “Can you stay awake for your night clothes?” she asked.

Henry whined in response and Emma chuckled, quickly getting him changed. He was more of a hindrance than a help in that regard, but she couldn’t blame him for being so tired. It had been a lot for such a small boy in one day.

He seemed to be fast asleep by the time she tucked him underneath the blankets.

She took a little bit longer to change, making sure to blow out the candles in the cabin before she climbed into bed beside her son. The boy sleepily cuddled into her and she smiled, kissing his hair one more time.

“I love you, Henry,” she whispered. “More than all the stars in the sky and all the sands on the beach.”

“Love you too, Mama,” Henry mumbled back.

Emma found herself unable to sleep. The water hitting the hull of the ship and the creaking of the wood had her on edge. She squeezed Henry a little tighter, trying to ignore the pounding of her heart. All of these noises were strange, and not what she was used to when falling asleep.

She almost gave up on the endeavor of sleep until a whisper came at her door, “Princess, we’ve hit open waters. You know that stick in the mud? The one you brought on board? You can take it out now. I’ll keep you safe, just like I promised your parents I would.”

The gentle swaying of the ship and the tone of his voice, calm and amused, took some of her anxiety away. She liked that he was willing to fire back. Not many people in court, especially men , were willing to go toe to toe with her in a battle of wits.

Maybe this won’t be awful. The thought was soothing enough for her exhaustion to really hit her. For the first time since her castle, she felt almost… safe? She scowled, just imagining how smug the pirate captain would be if she admitted to feeling relaxed and safe. “Damn that man,” she mumbled, trying not to grin as her eyes fluttered shut.

–

The sun was barely up and he’d been at the helm all night. He’d gotten a fair distance from Misthaven’s main port, but he’d feel much better once they were closer to Arendelle.

“Captain, a word?” the princess demanded of him, her white nightgown billowing behind her as she walked up the steps to the helm.

He groaned to himself. It was too bloody early for whatever she was about to tell him. “When a woman says that, I find I’m rarely in for a pleasant conversation,” he muttered to himself, his hand tightening around the wheel as he looked over at the princess. Bowing mockingly, he said, “What can I do for you, love?”

The princess blinked rapidly and stopped in her tracks, thrown off by the term of endearment. “I am not your love,” she hissed. “I came to enquire about this. What is this?” the princess demanded, lifting his flask out from her robe. Rum splashed onto the deck and his lips pursed together.

“Rum,” he bit back. “And a bloody waste of it too.” He went to reach to take it back from her, but she lifted her hand away from him and more rum splashed onto the deck. “It’s my flask, princess, nothing more.”

“Were you going to drink this? With my son on board?” the princess demanded, lips pursed together. The hand that wasn’t holding his flask was perched on her hip. “I found this in the desk in my room. How could you be so irresponsible?”

He had to work hard to suppress the flare of anger that rose up in him. This is why he had stopped following royals. She hadn’t even been on his ship for more than a few hours and she was already claiming his room as her own.

“I’m not a servant of yours to command, princess, and it’s certainly not your room,” Killian drawled, leaning in toward Emma. Her scowl deepened but her cheeks turned pink as he got closer. “It’s my ship and I’ll do what I damn well please.” He grinned at her when he realized that she was flustered by how close he was to her. If this was going to happen every time they got close, it would be the most entertaining two weeks of Killian’s life.

His hook crept up to try and get his flask back, but looking into her green eyes caused him to falter. His moment of hesitance allowed Princess Emma to step out of his reach, her cheeks still flushed.

“I don’t want to see anyone drinking while I’m on board, am I clear?” she asked breathlessly. She turned around and began walking back to the cabin. And then she stopped, the autumn air standing still between them. “After you’ve had some rest and if you’re amenable, would you give Henry a tour of the ship? He’s very excited about being on an actual pirate ship,” she asked, not looking at him.

“As you wish, love,” Killian drawled, snickering when she let out a huff of annoyance. He went back to the helm, humming to himself as he continued to steer the ship. The crew had started their day to day rituals, and Killian let the familiar footfalls and sounds calm him as he continued to steer.

The more calm he became, the heavier his eyes became. Falling asleep at the wheel wouldn’t bode well anyone, and he figured the crew could do without him for a few hours. “Smee,” Killian called. The man scurried up the steps to the helm. Before Smee could even respond, Killian said, “Take the helm, will you? I’m headed to my quarters for awhile.”

“Your quarters, Captain? Where the princess and her son are?” Smee asked.

“Could you ask any louder?” Killian barked, looking around furtively to make sure no one was stopping to openly listen to them. “I don’t think the bloody Dark One heard you!”

While the crew mostly knew the identity of the cargo aboard, he didn’t like the idea of openly discussing it. Something about mentioning Princess Emma and Prince Henry’s identities out loud made him incredibly nervous. He wasn’t sure what had caused the flare of panic to rise up within him, and he internally attributed it to a lack of sleep.

“Oh, right, your temporary quarters,” Smee replied, having the decency to look ashamed.

“Keep an eye on things,” Killian growled, and retreated to sleep.

–

A gentle knock on the door roused Killian from his sleep.

“Mr. Captain?” a tiny voice piped up from behind the door. “Mr. Captain? It’s Henry. Mama said you would show me around the ship. And I waited and did all my lessons. So please, Mr. Captain? Can we go now?”

Killian ran his hand over his face, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes. He laid there for a few more minutes, waking up. It was probably midday by his estimation. The knocking, soft but insistent, sounded again and he repressed a chuckle. He got up, starting to make himself mildly presentable.

“Quit pestering the Captain, boy!” someone growled at the little Prince, but it seemed the Prince would not be deterred.

“He promised I could have a tour of the ship!” Henry replied. “And I did all my lessons, so I can get my tour now.”

Opening the door, he could see Henry staring up at a man at least four times his size, arms crossed and scowling. The spitting image of his mother, Killian thought, but found that the thought didn’t come with a flair of irritation.

“Besides,” Killian replied, coming out of his room. “It’s bad form to back down from a promise, Starkey.” He bowed to Henry, who barely stifled a giggle. “Hello, young sir. Will you pardon me for sleeping in?” He smiled as Henry’s grin widened.

“It’s okay! Sleep is ‘mportant!” the boy said brightly. “I just wanted to see the ship real real bad!” Henry raced ahead to the stairs before racing back to Killian. “Can we go now?” he asked excitedly.

“Yes, yes,” Killian murmured, stretching out the last of his sleepiness. “Let’s go.”

He led the way for Henry, who immediately sprinted to the ship’s railing once they were back on deck. Killian found himself standing beside the boy to make sure he wouldn’t fall in.

“Are we on the ocean?” Henry asked eagerly. “I’ve never seen the ocean before, cuz we’re stuck in the palace lots.” He leaned up on the railing thoughtfully before adding, “But I liked looking at the trees. ‘Specially when they changed colors. I like the fall, it’s my favorite. Do you like autumn? Did you know that autumn is another name for fall?” Henry looked up at Killian with a big and honest smile that Killian found himself reciprocating warmly.

In its own way, it was refreshing to hear the excited rambling of a child learning about the world for the first time. Henry’s friendly and curious nature made it easy to forget that he was a prince, destined to someday take over the land. And childish giggling? Well, it was something that hadn’t been heard on the Jolly Roger for quite some time.

“I like the autumn, yes,” Killian replied, leaning against the railing.

Henry peered thoughtfully out at the water, giggling whenever the ship made a particularly large splash against the waves. They stood there for awhile before Henry asked, “Have you been a pirate a very long time, Mr. Captain?”

“Aye, that I have,” Killian said. “Much longer than you’ve been alive.” Henry gasped loudly, and Killian continued, “Aye, I have stories from all my many adventures.”

“Can I have one as a bedtime story? Pretty please?” Henry pleaded.

“I suppose so, lad,” Killian chuckled.

“Tonight?” Henry pressed.

“I don’t see why not,” Killian continued.

“Do you promise?” Henry asked, putting his hand out for Killian to shake. Killian shook it, still marveling at this spitfire of a little prince. Henry shook his hand resolutely and said, “Good. Remember, ‘s bad form to go back on promises.”

The serious look on young Henry’s face was the only thing that kept Killian from laughing. It’d been awhile since his own words had been used against him. “Well played, Prince Henry, well played,” he praised, turning to look back over the water.

Henry copied him, looking serious and contemplative again. When Killian looked down, the boy looked up at him and asked, “What’s your name?”

“You know my name, lad. It’s Captain Hook,” Killian replied lightly.

“Your name name,” Henry said in exasperation. “Not your pirate name. I’d like to know your real name.” There was a heavy moment of silence and then: “Please, Mr. Captain? You know my name.”

“It’s Killian,” Killian said quietly. “Killian Jones.” He knelt down in front of Henry. “Very few people know my real name, so I’m trusting you not to tell another man alive. Do you understand?”

Henry nodded. “I promise! I promise not to tell, Killy-un!”

Killian smiled, giving the boy’s shoulder a gentle clasp. “Now, how would you like to go all the way up to the highest point of the ship?”

Henry’s gasp of excitement was worth it.

—

Emma wasn’t worried for her son’s safety.

Well, that was a lie. She was worried, but every so often a giggle or some of Henry’s chatter would float down to her and she let it calm her.

As long as Henry was chatty and giggly, he was happy. And if he was happy, that meant he wasn’t injured or scared. And if he wasn’t injured or scared, then he was safe.

There had been half a dozen times where it had been quiet for just a moment too long and Emma would bolt up and head to the door before hearing Henry again. And she would settle, pouring over maps of potential allies, and writing letters to anyone she hoped would listen and help her and her family.

Her foot bounced and she jumped again, this time opting to pace the length of the room. She supposed she could’ve gone up there with Henry and the captain, but that meant spending time with Captain Hook.

Since there was no one else around, she was more than willing to admit that Captain Hook was excellent with Henry. Some of her suitors in the past had been put off by her son, and she instantly made it clear to those men that if they couldn’t accept Henry then they could escort themselves out.

She had been incredibly worried when her parents told her they were leaving on a pirate ship. She’d been worried that the men on board wouldn’t know how to handle a small child, but by and large they seemed to be doing fine with Henry. And Henry was fascinated by all of it, which made Emma feel a little bit more relieved.

At least in that regard.

He was still a cocky, overly flirtatious man in Emma’s opinion.

Her fingers gently skimmed Killian’s flask, finding it easier to calm down as her fingers trailed the cold metal gently.

“We’re all right,” she whispered. “Everything’s–”

A pained cry sounded above her, followed by a loud thud, and she immediately leapt to her feet. Her heart all but seized in her chest because she knew that cry anywhere.

Henry!

Grabbing her sword, she raced up the stairs and flung the door open. Henry was sprawled out on his back, a little wooden sword beside him. Captain Hook stood over Henry, his own sword drawn.

“Back away from my son, you bastard!” Emma snarled, moving quickly. Her sword met Killian’s and the sound of ringing steel hung in the air. She thrust the sword wildly at Captain Hook. Her mind wasn’t on form, or even getting her opponent. She only wanted him away from Henry.

Captain Hook staggered a few paces backward, and that was enough time for her to swoop in and scoop Henry into her arms.

Settling him on her hip, she went back into their room and locked the door tight, her sword drawn as she tried to keep the other crewmen on the ship away from her. She settled Henry on the bed and wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Henry, are you okay?” Emma asked, her eyes frantically scanning her son for injuries. “Did he hurt you?” Henry shook his head and wrapped his arms around her for a hug. She cupped the back of his head and rested her head on his cheek. “I won’t let Captain Hook anywhere near you again,” she whispered.

“Mama–” Henry started, and she squeezed him tighter.

“That’s right,” she soothed, trying to calm the frantic beating of her own heart. “Mama’s right here. Mama’s got you. It’s okay. It’s all okay now…Mama won’t let anything happen to you ever again, okay? And Mama won’t let that awful pirate anywhere near you.” She pressed a kiss to his hair, thankful she’d gotten to Henry before something awful had happened.

“Mama–” Henry tried again, his voice muffled by her dress.

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby, we can talk later. Just let Mama hold you, okay? Remember how I told you when we first got here that I’m scared?” Emma whispered, her voice shaking a little bit. “Seeing you hurt makes me scared too.”

Henry nuzzled into her. “‘s okay, Mama,” he told her softly. “I’m not hurt. Don’t be scared. Everything’s okay now.”

Emma’s eyes filled with tears and she squeezed her boy even tighter to her. This boy was the light of her life, and anything happening to him would rip her to shreds. She was pretty sure that everyone knew it, and that included her enemies.

Was that why Captain Hook attacked my son?

The rest of the day was spent with Henry close by, and the overwhelming sense of dread and terror any time any set of footsteps sounded near the door. Henry seemed undaunted by the previous attack and any time she felt too afraid, she’d look over at her little boy, who was humming to himself and playing with his toy soldiers and she’d feel better.

As the sun began to set and she got ready for bed, there was a knock on their door.

“Princess Emma?” Captain Hook asked. “I’ve come to read the young prince a bedtime story…”

Emma flung open the door and glowered up at him. “The audacity!” she exclaimed, drawing herself to her tallest. “You attack my son–”

“I didn’t–” Captain Hook interjected.

“Mama–” Henry tried.

“Henry, not now baby,” Emma said patiently before whirling back to Killian ferociously. “You hurt him–”

“If I could just explain–”

“Mama,” Henry tried again.

“And now you want to read him a bedtime story? Who do you think you are?” Emma asked. “So help me, I will make sure you hang for this when we return home–”

“Mama!” Henry bellowed as loud as he could. Flabbergasted, both adults turned to the small boy. Embarrassed by the sudden silence and amount of attention, Henry ducked his head. “Killy-un didn’t ‘tack me,” he said shyly. “I asked him to teach me how to sword fight. I tripped when he was teachin’ me.”

“Oh,” Emma said, all the fight draining out of her.

“An’,” Henry continued. “He promised to tell me a bedtime story about his pirate adventures, an’ to break promises is bad form. Right, Killy-un?”

The boy looked up at Captain Hook for approval, and Emma was surprised to see the fond smile cross Captain Hook’s face as he nodded.

“Lad, I thought I told you that my name is a secret. That you could never tell another man,” Captain Hook said, amusement lacing his words.

“You did,” Henry said. “But Mama is a girl. So it’s okay.”

Captain Hook chuckled and looked to Emma for permission. When Emma nodded, still dumbfounded at the turn of events, Captain Hook entered the room. “Have you done everything your mum said to get ready for bed?”

“A-huh!” Henry exclaimed, clambering up onto the bed. “Story time! Story time!”

Captain Hook quirked an eyebrow at Emma. “What do you say, love?” he asked. “Is it story time?”

“Well, I can’t let you break a promise, that would be ‘bad form’,” Emma replied, doing her best to copy his accent on ‘bad form’. She climbed into bed and held Henry to her chest. The boy giggled and snuggled up against his mother’s chest.

“What are you doing?” Captain Hook asked in confusion.

“I’m staying for story time,” Emma said, leaning back with Henry in her arms. She gave Captain Hook a small smile and he began his story.

Mother and son were completely entranced by the Captain’s words, and the pictures he painted of far off lands and unbelievable creatures. They would laugh and gasp in unison at the appropriate moments, both leaning in with excitement.

When the Captain finish his story, Henry immediately asked, “Can we have another one?”

Captain Hook looked to Emma for guidance and she blinked in surprise, shocked that he would choose to defer to her. Warmly, she smiled down at her son, putting her finger on her chin as she mock thought. “I don’t know…if you’re too excited to sleep, maybe Captain Hook shouldn’t be telling you stories anymore…”

“I’m asleep! I’m asleep!” Henry squeaked and dove under the covers. “G’night, Killy-un!”

“Goodnight, Henry,” Captain Hook said, bowing to Henry. He then gently took Emma’s hand in his and kissed it. “Goodnight, Princess Emma.” He retreated and closed the door behind him.

Grinning to herself and ducking her head, Emma held her hand, the hand that he had kissed, to her chest.

“Mama?” Henry piped up softly. “You never apologized to Killy-un for yellin’ at him and callin’ him mean names when he didn’t actually hurt me.”

“I should apologize, shouldn’t I?” Emma asked with a sigh. Henry nodded. She kissed Henry’s forehead and tucked the blankets in around him. “All right, I’ll be right back.”

–

He had to stop grinning.

“Pull yourself together, you’re worse than you were in your lieutenant days,” he scolded himself, but the words seemed dampened by the way he was absolutely beaming.

He couldn’t help it though. Watching Princess Emma react to his story, to gasp with excitement and lean in when she wanted to hear more, awakened something within him.

“Pull yourself together, Killian,” he muttered, giving his head a quick shake.

“Captain?” Princess Emma called softly to him. He turned to look at her. Her cheeks were tinted pink as she shifted nervously from foot to foot. The cool autumn air gently lifted the hem of her dress and made it flutter about her. “I…” She ducked her head and then picked it up, looking anywhere but him.

Killian nodded encouragingly, taking a small step closer to the Princess.

“Ioweyouanapology.”

“What was that, love?” Killian asked, unable to keep the chuckle from bubbling forth. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

The Princess rolled her eyes but she was smiling. He wasn’t sure why, but his comment gave her the courage to look at him. “I owe you an apology,” she repeated. She licked her lips and added, “Henry explained that you weren’t trying to hurt him, you were trying to teach him how to swordfight.”

“Aye, I was,” Killian replied, scratching behind his ear. “He saw the sword, and said that your father would teach him some day. I thought I’d give him a lesson beforehand, given the state of things…I shouldn’t have overstepped.”

“No, no,” the Princess replied, stepping closer. “I really appreciate what you’ve done for us, really. Your ship, your room, Henry’s tour… the story. Really, it was incredible.” Her eyes lit up with excitement as she added, “Did you really pin Blackbeard to the mast with his own sword?”

“That I did,” Killian said. “You know, you’re pretty handy with a sword yourself, but your form could use some work.”

“What is it with you and form?” Princess Emma teased him.

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” Killian asked, drawing his sword.

With a bemused smile, Emma drew her own sword. “I’ve already bested you twice,” Emma called, as their blades met. “I don’t know that I need any tips from you on form.”

Killian spun around, dodging a playful blow. “I let you win those times,” he answered, laughing when their blades met again. “Nice parry, Princess, but I can do better than that.” With a push of his sword, he sent her a few steps back.

“If you’re going to jab me with your sword, you might as well call me Emma!” she hollered, bending her knees so she wouldn’t move further back.

“Oh, when I jab you with my sword, you’ll feel it,” he leered, but there was no real lasciviousness behind it, getting pushed back when she pushed forward. Emma rolled her eyes and Killian laughed, “Admit it, you walked right into this one.”

“Just like you walked right into this one, Killian!” Emma exclaimed, hooking her leg behind his and sweeping it toward her. Killian went sprawling to the ground, his sword clattering to the ground beside him.

Emma laughed openly and sat down beside him, handing him his flask. When he took it, he really got to look at her for the first time. Freckles dotted her flushed cheeks, her green eyes sparkled with mischief and the moonlight seemed to illuminate her entire face.

Pull yourself together! He took a long drag from his flask.

“Do you mind if I call you Killian?” she asked shyly. He shook his head, offering her the flask. She took a long drink and made a face, scowling a little when Killian laughed.

“Ugh, I don’t like this at all!”

“Was that your first sip of rum?” Killian asked, taking his flask back and taking a drink. Emma nodded, her face still scrunched up. “Don’t worry, you get used to it.”

“Something you’ve learned from being a pirate?” Emma asked curiously.

“Aye, but I wouldn’t say it’s the worst thing I’ve learned,” Killian said, looking away from her for a moment. He didn’t want to ruin the newfound bond between them with his melancholic brooding, but he doubted she would understand what he’d done as a pirate if he told her.

“What’s one of the best?” Emma asked gently, her hand softly resting on his shoulder and drawing his attention away from his maudlin thoughts. He turned to look at her and she dipped her head encouragingly. There was a sadness behind her eyes too.

Maybe she hadn’t known a harsh life on the seas, but she had seen some things in her time.

“The stars,” he rasped, gesturing up with his hook. “One of the first things I learned when I was in the Royal Navy–”

“You were in the Royal Navy?” Emma asked. She opened her mouth to demand more information on that, but the look on his face silenced her. She thought for a moment and then prompted him, “Tell me more about the stars.”

“Well, you learn to navigate by the stars, yes, but learning about constellations are far better than that,” Killian explained. “What do you know about the stars, Emma?”

“Very little,” Emma admitted. “When I was younger, I hoped that I would one day fly up to them and touch them.” She laughed somewhat humorlessly. “My tutors quickly dissuaded me of that notion.”

“Then do I have a constellation for you,” Killian murmured. He pointed up. “Do you see those stars up there? They make somewhat of a sideways T?” She shook her head and he beckoned her closer to follow his eyesight.

“There,” he whispered. “That’s Cygnus, the swan. Do you see it?” Killian and Emma leaned in closer to one another and their cheeks were practically brushing.

“Oh, there it is! I see it!” Emma said excitedly. She gasped and she looked over at him. Their noses were brushing and they were practically sharing a breath. Without warning, Emma grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him in for a kiss.

Killian’s lips melded against hers and he simply let her hold him there as they both deepened the kiss.

When they broke apart, they were both gasping for air, their eyes closed.

“That was…” Emma started softly.

“A one time thing,” Killian said roughly, dropping his flask at her feet. He couldn’t be with a princess, no matter how much he wanted to. He got up and walked away from her, his hand going to his lips.

–

It had been five days since they’d kissed and Emma was miserable. She couldn’t stop from glancing over at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. Henry had asked if they were fighting again, and that’s why Killian kept looking over at her.

And somehow that made it all worse. Knowing that he was looking at her too just made her heart twist in her chest.

She’d wanted to kiss him. She still wanted to kiss him. She hadn’t loved anyone since Neal, but she definitely felt something like love for the pirate.

“Mama?” Henry asked from her lap. He’d been drawing picture of the ocean, sitting with her on the deck. When she didn’t respond right away, he put down his paper and crayons to turn around and hug her.

“Everything okay, baby?” Emma asked softly, taking a moment to bury her face in her son’s hair.

“You seem sad, Mama,” Henry said softly. He looked back between her and Killian. “Did Killy-un say something mean to you?” His little brow furrowed. “I’ll make him ‘pologize!”

Emma smiled and hugged him tighter. “No, no, it’s all right. Mama just misses Nana and Poppa that’s all,” she murmured, smiling down at her son and stroking his cheek. Her boy was so sweet and far more perceptive than she’d given him credit for. Feeling somewhat comforted by at least the presence of Henry’s love in her life, she kissed his forehead.

“Okay, good!” Henry exclaimed. “Cuz I wanted to ask you ‘bout that!” He pointed over at the horizon. “It’s been getting closer and closer to us, but I can’t see.”

Emma brought Henry to the railing, thinking it was just a bird at first. But it was far too large to be a bird and coming closer on the tide.

It was a ship.

“Killian!” she called out in fear, keeping Henry close as she sprinted up to the helm. “There’s a ship behind us and gaining fast!” She pointed behind them, trying to keep her hand steady.

He pulled out a telescope and looked where Emma was pointing. “Bloody hell!” Killian cursed. “It’s one of Regina’s ships. Take the lad below and lock the door tight!” He turned to his crew. “Men! One of the Evil Queen’s ships is on our tail! Johnson, Starkey, I need you to adjust the sails! The rest of you, prepare for battle!”

Killian adjusted his grip on the wheel, clenching his jaw. When he saw Emma still standing there, he barked, “Emma go! Save Henry!”

Cupping the back of Henry’s head, she carried him downstairs and to the closet in Killian’s room. She piled some of Killian’s coats on top of him. “Do you remember what I said?” she asked in a shaky voice, stroking Henry’s cheek.

“Hide here until you come get me,” Henry repeated in a shaky voice. He lifted childish and trusting arms to his mother and Emma hugged him tightly. “Mama? I love you.”

“I love you too, Henry,” Emma whispered, pressing a kiss to his hair. Tears filled her eyes and she cupped the back of his head. “I love you so much. Be safe.” She stroked her son’s cheek.

“Where are you going?” he whimpered, burying his face in her shirt.

“I’m going to help Killian fight the bad guys,” Emma murmured, kissing his head. “Mama will come back for you, and if it’s not Mama it will be Killian, okay? But everything is going to be just fine. Mama is going to make sure of it.” She held him tighter. “I love you, sweetheart. Stay here.” She tucked him safely underneath the coats and closed the closet doors.

She would rather die fighting than stay cowering beneath the deck, especially if Henry’s life was on the line. Drawing her sword, she came to stand on the deck. The Evil Queen’s ship was within three ship lengths now, and all of Killian’s men were drawing swords, prepping the canons and manning their stations..

“Emma, what are you doing?” Killian demanded, his voice harsh with an emotion she couldn’t clearly identify. “I can’t guarantee your safety!”

“You don’t need to keep me safe!” Emma replied, drawing herself up to her full height. “You know how well I can fight. So let me help!” Killian opened his mouth to object but Emma continued, “Let me put it this way: either you agree that I can help up here, or you say I can’t and I’ll sneak back up here anyway! Which will it be?”

Killian let out a frustrated groan, but jerked his head up as the ship came beside them. “Men, prepare to fight!” he called.

Emma squared her shoulders, her sword pointed forward.

–

In the thick of the fighting, Killian couldn’t help but spare a glance every so often to make sure Emma was doing all right. He was worried out of his mind that she could get hurt, and while he wanted to use the helplessness he was feeling, and transform it into anger, he couldn’t.

He hadn’t spoken to her in days, out of his own guilt and shame for their kiss. He wasn’t regretting the kiss, not at all, but the kiss had exposed something in him that he didn’t even know he was capable of.

He was starting to fall for the Princess.

And he couldn’t help but immediately feel disheartened by their differences in status. The kingdom would never accept him as Prince, and Emma would never leave her parents behind to start a life of piracy with him. So he pushed her away. And now, as he watched her fight as hard as any of his crew, he found himself sorely regretting it.

He watched as she kicked a man square in the chest and sent him sprawling into the ocean, barely keeping a smile hidden as she did so. She was right: there was no way he would’ve been able to keep her from the fighting if he’d ordered her to stay below deck.

Gods, she was so stubborn and strong, it was surely going to be the death of him.

Assuming of course, that they actually made it out of this battle alive.

“The Queen has ordered us to bring the boy to her alive! Spare no one else!” one of the knights barked.

“Over my dead body!” Emma snarled, pressing forward into the thick of the battle.

“I think that’s the idea, love!” Killian called worriedly after her, pressing into the fray. Without even realizing, he found himself pressed shoulder to shoulder with her, fighting the Queen’s black knights as if they’d been fighting beside each other all their lives. “I hate to break it to you, love, but I think we’d make a great team!” he called, dodging a blow.

“We haven’t spoken in five days and that’s all you have to say to me?” Emma asked in frustration, her sword clanging with her opponent’s. She pushed him back and barely dodged another blow.

“Love, I’m sorry–” Killian started, wanting to make things right with her.

“I don’t think now’s the best time for apologies,” Emma retorted, ducking underneath the arm of a knight and all but body slamming into him. “You should be watching your own back, Killian.”

“But then who would be watching yours?” Killian called, his hook coming up to pierce the man who tried to attack Emma when she wasn’t paying attention. “And I must say, your back is much more delectable than mine.”

“Flirting? At a time like this? Really?” Emma asked, but he caught the smile that graced her lips.

This was so much better than the pining they’d been doing the last few days. Working with her, side by side, bantering back and forth. Despite the danger, his heart felt lighter than it had in days.

Until he felt the whoosh of steel by his face and a clatter of a sword by his feet. There was a sword mere inches from him, but a body in front of his had stopped its path from striking him dead.

“Emma!” he roared, cradling her body in his arms as she fell to the ground. His men seemed to swarm en mass to drive the knights away, and he was left cradling her. “You bloody damnable woman!” Killian cried hoarsely, taking the weapon out and clamping down on her wound. He crushed his forehead to hers. “Come on, Emma, please don’t be dead…”

“I’m here,” Emma whispered weakly, her eyes fluttering open.

“Why did you do that?” Killian whispered, brushing some hair out of her face with his hook. “Who cares if I’m gone?”

“I couldn’t let you get hurt for me,” Emma whimpered, looking up at him with a hazy gaze. “They wouldn’t be here if not for me…” Her hand came up weakly to trail against his cheek “I care about you too much, even if you don’t care about me…”

The words nearly broke his heart. She thought him indifferent to her? Gods, what a fool he’d been!

Her hand weakly fell away from his cheek and fell to the ship’s deck with a soft thud.

“Emma?” he asked weakly. “Emma, wake up…of course I care…of course I do…” He barely recognized the wrecked timbre of his own voice. “Emma? Emma…please? Wake up, Emma. Come back to me, Emma.” He gave her a gentle shake, her head lolling about a little bit.

“Henry…”

The name barely slipped from her lips before she went limp. Her chest barely rose and fell, a sign that she was clinging to life. A ringing sounded in his ears and he tried in vain to repress the hollow feeling inside him.

It was just like Liam all over again.

How could he stand to lose another person he loved?

“Captain?” Smee said gently. “She’s still alive. Bron says he can try to heal her…but he needs to get her to the galley, and he needs you to get your alcohol. It’ll disinfect her wounds.” Killian looked up wildly, still cradling the princess close to his chest. “Go, Captain. She needs you to help her.”

He kissed her forehead, reluctantly handing her over to Smee. He got up and staggered to his room, unlocking the door. Seeing her touches in his room, her things, or things of his she had moved, made his heart ache and he let out a scream of agony, throwing everything on his desk onto the floor.

It was then that he saw his flask on the table by her bedside. She had been keeping it there? But why?

“Killy-un?” Henry’s small voice piped up from behind him. Killian whirled around to see his closet door creak open and the boy peaked out. “Mama said you’d come get me when it was safe to come out?”

“She said that?” Killian asked hoarsely. If she said that, it meant that despite everything, she trusted him enough with Henry’s life, and by extension her own. Suddenly the flask by her bedside made a little bit more sense, even though he wasn’t even sure he was worthy of her trust.

With a shaking hand, he took the flask and cradled it to his chest. He collapsed to his knees, barely letting out a sob. “Emma…gods, please don’t let her die…”

“Killy-un?” Henry asked in a trembling voice, slowly approaching him. “Killy-un? Where’s my Mama? Is she okay?”

He stared helplessly down at Henry, wishing he had answers for the boy. Not knowing what else to do, Killian scooped the boy up in his arms and began to sob, cradling him close. “I’m so sorry, Henry…I’m so sorry…”

–

Emma’s eyes weakly fluttered open, groaning as her eyes adjusted to the light. It stung as she breathed, but it certainly hurt less than being stabbed. She could see the black thread along her shoulder, the careful work of Bron’s stitching.

Taking a sniff, she smelled rum and her nose scrunched in distaste. Killian’s flask lay by her bedside table. Weakly, her fingers reached out to trace the smooth metal. But instead, she found her fingers held by a tiny hand, and a mop of brown hair was pressed up against her hip.

Her heart swelled to see her Henry curled up beside her, his chest rising and falling. His eyes were a little red-rimmed and his clothes were a little bit dirty, but him being there meant they’d won and no one had taken her son away from her.

And she had Killian to thank for it.

The last thing she remembered was hearing Killian say he cared about her. Her eyes widened and she tried to sit up to find him, then she realized that someone was holding her other hand. Looking over, she found Killian asleep on her other side, holding her hand tightly in his own. She gave it a gentle squeeze, and Killian bolted awake with a gasp.

“Emma!” Killian gasped, looking at her straight in the eye. She couldn’t even respond before his lips were crushed to hers. “Bloody hell, you had me scared to death, love,” he murmured against her lips. “Don’t ever do anything so reckless ever again.”

His hand came to cup her cheek, his thumb gently trailing along her skin. She leaned into his touch, letting her eyes close. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just saw him try to stab you with your back turned and I couldn’t…” she started, but he leaned in and kissed her again.

“It’s okay,” Killian murmured, nudging their noses together. “I’m just so glad you’re okay.” He closed his eyes for a moment.

Emma cupped Killian’s cheek in her hand, her eyes closed too. “You need a shave,” she murmured. Too afraid to open them, too afraid it was all a dream, she asked hesitantly, “Why did you push me away after we kissed? Am I…” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Am I not enough?”

“Gods, no, Emma…” His voice sounded utterly wrecked. “That’s not it at all.”

At this, she opened her eyes, taking him in. He wasn’t looking at her, certainly ashamed of the way he’d behaved the last few days.

“Then why?” she asked softly.

“I didn’t see a future,” Killian said glumly, Her fingers combed through his hair and he pressed into her touch more. “You’re a princess. When you first came on board, you were this stubborn, high-minded, pain in my arse–”

“I probably still am all those things–” Emma joked.

A smile ghosted his lips. “Let me finish. As I got to know you, I found this incredible woman with so much heart and determination. You’re so incredible, lass.”

“I’m pretty sure determined is just a nicer way of saying stubborn,” Emma retorted, her heart singing. She’d been so wrong about him too, and she was so glad that they were getting the opportunity to work things out.

Killian let out a laugh at her comment and brought his head up to look at her. Their eyes met and he smiled. “You’re impossible,” he told her, his voice full of affection.

“And you love me for it,” Emma retorted, equally as affectionate.

“Aye, I think I do love you,” Killian whispered. “Or I’m starting to fall in love with you. And it had me scared. After all, a princess and a pirate? What kind of future would we have?”

“We won’t have one at all if we don’t try. And you are the first person in so long who actually makes me want to try for one,” Emma answered. She thought back to the night when they were stargazing, her hand running through his hair still. “I know… there’s a lot about your past that you don’t want to tell me. And that’s okay. Because I’m going to choose to see the best in you.”

“And I you,” Killian answered softly. They stood in silence for a moment, Killian’s hand still cupping her cheek gently. Finally, he asked, “What have I done to deserve such high esteem from such a beautiful, incredible woman?”

“Well for one, you don’t always treat me like a princess,” Emma answered softly. “You treat me as your equal.” She blushed when she added, “And you’re really good with Henry. No one who is that good with my son can be that horrible now, even if his past was bad.”

“How do you know I didn’t just ply him with sweets?” Killian rumbled, and they both laughed.

“Because I would know. Henry can’t lie to save his life,” Emma murmured fondly, her gaze going down to her son. She wasn’t sure how this all would fit together yet, if Henry would be okay with what was going on, if they could even make this work. But she was willing to try if he was.

“Oh, just you wait, maybe I’ll be a bad influence on him yet.”

That sounded like a future if she ever heard one. Her response was immediately cut off by a yawn and Killian opened his arms to her. She rested her head on his shoulder and let her eyes flutter shut. It seemed all so different now, the creaking of the ship, the gentle rise and fall of the waves against the boat.

“Go back to sleep, love,” Killian coaxed, his voice cutting through her thoughts like a lighthouse in a storm. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

What was once so intimidating and imposing now felt like something she’d been waiting for her whole life.

–

The dead leaves on the dock were frost-tipped and slowly becoming icier as Elsa paced back and forth, her dress stirring them as she walked. A little flurry of snow swirled about her and she kept looking back at the horizon.

“Elsa, take a deep breath,” Anna said patiently. “I can hear your thoughts from here. And no, they did not get eaten by a giant sea monster. There aren’t any this close to Arendelle, you know that!”

A wry smile crossed Elsa’s lips as she took in her sister’s words. “I know, but after the attack on their ship by Regina–”

“Oh look! There they are!”

A ship began coming closer and closer, much to Elsa’s relief. A quick inspection of the ship revealed that it was indeed the Jolly Roger.

But Elsa knew she wouldn’t rest easy until she laid eyes on Emma and Henry. Elsa found Henry easily enough. He was standing by the railing waving enthusiastically at her, his little hand and face barely coming over the top of the railing. She waved back, laughing.

When she went to go look for Emma, Elsa found her friend tenderly kissing Captain Hook. The pair broke apart, Captain Hook’s thumb crossed a clear path of stitches on Emma’s shoulder, his face marred with worry. Elsa couldn’t make out what he said, but whatever it was, Emma seemed to soothe the Captain with her response.

And while Elsa had a million questions, the look on her best friend’s face was unmistakable: pure, unbridled joy.

“You know something, Anna? I think you’re right. I’d say she’s just fine.”

“That man is just fine,” Anna muttered, raising her eyebrows.

Elsa nodded in agreement. Though not her type, he was very easy on the eyes.“He certainly is something. Just…wait until she gets settled before we make her tell us everything .”

“Auntie!” Henry hollered to Elsa. “They’ve been kissing so much the past few days! Make them stop! Kissing is gross!” He squealed with laughter as Emma scooped him up into her arms. She began peppering Henry’s face with kisses and soon the Captain joined in.

Emma grinned sheepishly over the ship’s railing when she saw the gobsmacked look on Elsa’s face.

She was going to have a lot of explaining to do.

#ffcs 2018 #fallforcs #fall for captain swan #blinddate with a fanfic #cs ff #cs au #judiciouscoot #waiting for the tide #demisexualemmaswan

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searchingwardrobes · 6 years ago

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Please forgive me

I have tried to edit my post, but I am on mobile and tumblr keeps saying "something is wonky". My artist for the fallforcs was @imagnifika . If you read my post, I raved about her art. Leaving out her name was an accident and nothing more. You can also read my glowing praise of her on my Ao3 post.

Please stop sending me messages yelling at me for this. I am honestly incredibly hurt that this fandom thinks I would do this on purpose. I thought you all knew me better than that.

Tagging those I tagged in the original post to try and right this apparently unforgivable sin I have committed @bethacaciakay @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @kday426 @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @kmomof4

Just to clarify I am in tears over this

#fallforcs #fallforcs 2018 #please forgive me #incredibly hurt right now

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jennjenn615 · 4 years ago

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You’re going to kill me again I just know it!! My heart is already hurting for my two loves!!!! And Neal really?!?!,!,! Ugh ugh ugh! Make my hate that person even more!!!!!

But as always I am putting my trust in you! I know that you won’t lead me wrong and there will be an amazingly happy ending!!!! I will prepare my soul for the bad and celebrate the good!!!!!!

everybody knows -- CH1

SUMMARY : In Killian’s world there are neither heroes nor villains.

There are only those who give and those who take, and you better not be the former.

He’s a taker, has spent his entire life being a taker, because if you’re a taker, there is never a price to pay.

Until there is.

AKA: The paths towards love and the meaning of life are twisted and tangled and full of detours, and some of those roads aren’t paved.

AO3

A/N: Oh, my dears - here we go again.

i have never worked so hard for a first chapter, ever. Or any chapter, really. The problem with writing about a con is that what you reveal when and how becomes incredibly important. So much setup! So much dialogue! And plot boas galore right out of the gate – it’s just unfairly hard! Who ever thought of this bright idea? (Yes, i know, i’m yelling at myself, but i’m having a righteous rant moment, leave me be. 😂)

Anyway.

Eternal thanks to @profdanglaisstuff for making me kill my darlings and slash and rewrite nearly 3K words. She was right to do so, and you should all thank her, because without her there would be no story. None.

To @ohmightydevviepuu for making me go over every square inch of my premise, and making me think and re-think and re-think again until i had a handle on it.

Thank you both so much for forcing me to live up to my potential. Or at least fail upwards to the level of my incompetence. 😂💕😘

And to @anxioussquirrel, @killianjones-twopointoh, and @katie-dub for filling my life with joy. 💖💖💖

i’m using the regular tag list, i hope that’s OK. Please let me know if you want to be added or removed.

@mariakov81 @stahlop @thejollyroger-writer @snowbellewells @captainsjedi @toomanyfandomstochoosefrom @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @mayquita @ohmightydevviepuu @sals86 @karenfrommisthaven @kmomof4 @kday426 @superchocovian @jennjenn615 @facesiousbutton82 @suwya @spartanguard @capnjay21 @shardminds @carpedzem @girl-in-a-tiny-box @ilovemesomekillianjones @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @teamhook @katie-dub @shireness-says @qualitycoffeethings @cluttermind @fragilebeautifulchaos @optomisticgirl @klynn-stormz @winterbaby89 @ethereal-madnesss @scientificapricot @fragilebeautifulchaos @anxioussquirrel @killianjones-twopointoh @captain-emmajones

PART I

Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future.

– Oscar Wilde –

CHAPTER 1

“I’ve got your next mark.”

Neal leans back in his office chair and tilts his head at Killian.

The way Neal occupies space is reminiscent of bad 80s primetime soaps. There is something desperately oligarch-esque about the way he reclines, puts his left boot on his desk, and hands Killian a manila envelope. It’s painfully suave. Especially in this office, full of beaten-up furniture from a long-ago heyday, and ancient neon overheads that flicker more than shine.

Killian sits down and takes the envelope. “Who is it?”

Neal’s eyes narrow. “Society girl with her hands on a vast fortune.”

Killian pulls out the file and his brow furrows. “Fortune? It doesn’t look like she’s worth anything.”

He looks up. Neal is scowling – unusual for a man who prides himself on his indifference, especially when it comes to business matters.

But when he answers, his voice is devoid of inflection. “She’s just slumming, trying to make it in the real world without her parents’ money. But look at her last name.” He pauses to let Killian scan the first page again, and then says, “In reality she’s the heir to The Archer Group.”

Killian whistles sharply. “Archer Holdings? Archer Enterprises? Archer Real Estate? That Archer Group?”

Neal smiles darkly. “The very same. We can fleece her hard.”

“You know my rules.”

Neal scoffs. “Yes, Killian. I know your ‘rules’. But no matter how much we take from her, her daddy has much, much more. He will bail her out. This time we take it all.”

Killian frowns and holds up a printout. “This bank statement says she has 498 bucks in her checking account. What exactly do you want to take her for?”

Neal smiles again, even darker this time. “I have it on very good authority that she has a savings account with half a million dollars in it. Starting-out money from her parents. She’s just not touching it. So I say we take every last penny.”

Killian leans forward, his eyes hard, and slowly shakes his head.

Neal exhales in a huff. “Which part of ‘her father will just give her more’ do you not understand?”

It is in those moments that Killian realizes how much he hates Neal. And how much he wishes he had never entered this partnership.

Well.

Entered is not the right word – it implies free will. Coercion had been the name of the game, but then again, Killian had gotten into that situation all by himself. The kind of situation where saying ‘no’ was no longer an option, and now he is stuck with Neal.

Killian sighs, but stays quiet.

Neal stares back for a long time, before his lips widen in a smirk.

“I’ll void your contract,” he says. “Do this job and you can go back to conning cougars.” He leans forward. “Cougars anywhere but this state, you understand?”

And there it is.

Temptation.

Killian sighs. Sighs and closes his eyes and resigns himself to the fact that when the very thing you’ve wanted for years, years , is finally within reach, the word ‘principles’ is just that.

A word.

Neal is dangling freedom on a hook, and Killian can’t resist the bait, line and sinker be damned. Principles, it turns out, aren’t worth much.

Not much at all.

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#cs fic #cs fic rec #thisonesatellite #everybody knows #fun and heartbreak and angst #and a massive happy end #but kids #they're going to go through some stuff before they get the hea #fallforcs #csbb

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

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You’re Killing Me, Swan - Chapter 3/3

This is it, the last chapter. Thanks to everyone who has given it a read. Thanks again to the @fallforcs project for giving me the opportunity to write this monster and experiment with being posted anonymously. I’d absolutely participate again! Thanks to my beta, @theonceoverthinker, for dealing with 60 pages of fluffy baseball-themed Captain Swan falling in love. Thank you to @sailingcaptainswan, who created the poster I know we’ve all enjoyed seeing for this story. It is seriously too cute! And now, the last chapter. Rating: G Also on Ao3

The team didn’t have a game today. Even the sandlot crew couldn’t play baseball everyday. So with no game tying up the day, Killian invited Emma over for the whole day. She got up early so she could walk over and maximize the amount of fun they could have before she had to go home for the night. After throwing on a tank top and an oversized plaid shirt and jean shorts she can’t really wear for playing ball, she ran downstairs to walk to Killian’s. Ingrid and Arthur had already left for work, and they knew Emma would be headed to the Jones’ for the day. She grabbed the house key from the end table near the front door and practically bounced out the door, only to run into someone on the porch. She apologized as she bent down to pick up the key, only to find the other person had beat her to it.

“Thanks,” she took it, her gaze finally landing on the other form. “Killian? I was just leaving to go to your house.”

He scratched the back of his right ear. “I thought I’d walk you.”

“How long have you been here?” She turned to lock the front door before pocketing her key.

“Not long. Few minutes maybe.”

“We never agreed on a time.”

“I would’ve sat here until you were ready.”

“Really?” She gestured in front of them as a cue to start walking as they talked.

He shrugged. “It’s a nice morning.”

The two walked in silence for a few feet before Emma spoke up, looking at Killian as she did. “You know, this might be the first time I’ve ever seen you without a baseball cap on other than that time at the pool.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Ah, well, no game.”

“No jersey either.” He was wearing a teal t-shirt and jeans. It was a change from his usual baseball jerseys and black athletic shorts, but not an unwelcome sight.

“They’re in the laundry.” Emma chuckled. Killian smiled. “How long can you stay?”

“Ingrid said to be home by 10:30 since it’s still summer and I don’t have to be up for school or anything.”

“We can work with that.”

“What are we going to do today?”

“Whatever we want.”

“Great!” Emma linked her arm with Killian’s as they walked the rest of the way to his house sharing jokes and laughter. ----- “So, Swan, where would you like to start?”

“Um, could we use your swing set? I’ve never had a swing set before.”

“As you wish.” He led her to the backyard, and Emma sat on one of the swings. Killian sat on the swing to her left. Emma found it so easy to just talk to Killian about absolutely nothing as they swung side-by-side. And after they decided they’d had enough swinging, they played pirates with the monkey bars and the little shelter above the slide. Even Liam came out to play with them a little. Emma and Killian hid out near the slide while Liam approached their “ship” from above the monkey bars, and they took turns dueling with foam swords Liam found in the basement, all while making sure Liam didn’t fall between the bars. They didn’t care how stupid they looked or sounded, they were just so happy to be playing.

By the time Liam had to go to work, it was only a couple hours before lunch time. Killian brought Emma up to his room where he shared his pillowcase secret stash of Apollo bars with Emma. He stocked up after he found out they were her favorite. They sat on his bed eating their respective chocolate bars.

“Your room is so cool.” Her eyes studied the baseball wallpaper and his huge baseball card collection on his dresser. Even his lamp was baseball-themed. His bed sheets, however, were pirate-themed with little skulls all over them.

“My mum let me pick out everything.” He glanced around his own room, smiling.

“I hope I get to decorate my room like this one day.”

“You will, Swan.” She met his gaze. “Especially with Ingrid and Arthur. I think they’ll be it for you.”

“I have some pictures up on my wall, but nothing like this.”

“How do you want your room to look?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe something with books or art supplies. Maybe Ingrid would let me paint my own room.”

“I think she would.”

“And Starry Night sheets. That would be cool.”

They sat in comfortable silence as the chocolate bars disappeared. Killian threw their wrappers away and grabbed something from his bookshelf.

“Here,” he handed her two books.

“What’s this?”

“These are my favorite books. I think you’ll like them.”

She read the titles: Peter Pan and The Princess Bride. She hadn’t read either before.

“Thanks, Killian. I’m excited to read these.”

“I want to know what you think.” Emma nodded in acknowledgement. She was always excited at the idea of new books. “So what do you want to do now?”

“Does Liam still have the Nintendo hooked up in his room?”

“Aye.”

“MarioKart?” She smirked.

“You’re on, Swan.” ----- Over microwaved chicken nuggets and fries, Emma decided to tell Killian about her unwanted visitor last week.

“Killian?”

“Yeah,” he got out with a mouthful of fries.

“Neal came over the other day.”

Killian froze.

Emma shook her head. “He asked me to join his team.” She sipped her lemonade as she waited for Killian to react. He just blinked.

“I said, no, obviously.”

“You did?”

“Does that surprise you?”

Killian put down the chicken nugget in his hand. “Well, no. But he gave you the chance to play on a real field.”

“I like the sandlot.”

“His team can make you better.”

“You make me better.” Killian blinked rapidly again. “I wouldn’t even be playing if it weren’t for you.”

“You’re good, Swan. You just needed a push.”

“You guys are my friends. I don’t abandon my friends.”

“I - thank you, Swan.”

“Neal and his friends aren’t the kind of friends I want.”

“Don’t tell Liam I said this, but Neal’s a bloody wanker.” They both laughed. “I can’t believe he tried to steal you.”

“He’s just bitter I stole home when he could never.” Killian bit his lip to keep from laughing too hard.

“Seriously, Swan, you could have said, yes, if you wanted.”

“I know, but I didn’t want to. I’m happy where I am.”

“Good.” ----- Emma and Killian continued playing until Killian’s mom and Liam came home from their respective jobs. Together, the four of them helped make potato chip-crusted chicken, asparagus, and mac and cheese.

“Ms. Alice, this is so good,” Emma complimented the dinner she was trying very hard not to just inhale like a vacuum.

“We all made it together, love. It wouldn’t be as delicious if you didn’t help.” Emma smiled at the red-headed mother of her best friend. “And,” Alice leaned in closer to Emma, “you are more than welcome to come over for dinner any time you’d like.”

“Thank you,” Emma said, really trying to make sure how much that meant came through her voice.

“Any friend of Killian’s and Liam’s is alright in my book, especially if there’s another woman to balance out all this testosterone in this neighborhood.”

Liam and Killian looked at each other. Emma laughed.

“Do you cook together every night?” Emma looked between the three Joneses.

“Sometimes, but mostly on special occasions.” Liam looked between Killian and Emma as he took a large bite of mac and cheese to hide his smirk. Alice saw through that and elbowed her son lightly, eliciting a snort from Liam.

If Killian knew what was going on, he pretended not to. “My mum is a fantastic cook.”

“Yeah. She is.”

“Thank you, you two. Emma, if you can stay a little longer, I can make Killian’s favorite fudge brownies for dessert.”

“I just have to be home before 10:30, Ms. Alice.”

“Perfect. When you and Killian are done eating, you can go hang out more while I make the brownies.” Emma and Killian nodded their agreement.

“Thanks so much.”

“Any time, Emma. I’m glad to have you here.”

“Well,” Liam starts, “I’m finished my dinner.”

“Great,” his mom smiles, “you can do dishes so Emma and Killian can enjoy themselves.” Killian tried to hide his laughter as Liam frowned. Emma took another bite of chicken as she took in the family in front of her.

Both Killian and Emma rushed to finish eating so they could have more time to hang out together. When they finished, Emma offered to do her own dishes even though she knew Killian’s mom would never let her. When, as predicted, Alice said “absolutely not” to her guest, Killian grabbed Emma’s hand and brought her to his backyard.

“What are we doing out here?” They were still holding hands.

“It’s a clear night. It’s dark. We should get lots of fireflies.”

“Fireflies?”

“Have you ever caught fireflies before?” He asked her, tightening his hand on hers.

“No.”

“You’re killing me, Swan. Okay, I’ll teach you.” He glanced around his yard until he found a group of fireflies under a tree. He led her over there before dropping her hand.

“They’re so pretty.” Emma took in the sight before her, dark blue sky, bordering on black, with balls of yellowish-silver lights flickering and flying all around the space in front of her.

Killian leaned down to the base of the tree and grabbed a jar. “Can you hold this while I show you what to do?”

“Sure.” She took the jar and he adjusted her hands so the opening was facing him.

“Okay, Swan. You have to come up to one gently with one hand,” he said quietly as he demonstrated. “Then, when you’re close, bring your other hand to the other side of the firefly quickly so it doesn’t get away. But don’t clap your hands or you’ll squish it. Cup your hands together.” He brought his closed hands closer to her so she could see the light peeking from between his fingers. “And then,” he stopped talking as he guided the bug into the jar Emma held, covering the top with his hand. He held the jar up to show Emma.

“Wow.”

“Can you grab the lid?” She knelt down to where he got the jar and picked up a lid with lots of holes poked through it. Killian put the lid on the jar carefully. “When we catch more, the jar is going to be full of them. And then when we’re done, we let them go.”

“Can I try catching one?”

“Of course!”

Killian held the jar as Emma came up to a firefly with one hand, and brought her other hand down quickly. She caught one on the first try, but she immediately let it go as the light crawling feeling freaked her out. She was happy it was dark so Killian couldn’t see her blush.

“It takes a couple tries.”

“Yeah,” she barely got out.

“Try again. You can also come at one with both hands if you’re gentle. Nudge it into your hands.” She nodded as she took a breath. She knew to expect the crawling this time, but she missed her first firefly as she clasped her hands too slowly. However, Emma was a fast learner, and it only took her one more try to get one and keep it between her cupped hands. “Well done, Swan!”

“That was so cool!”

Killian approached her with his hand covering the top of the jar. “Put it in here.” They worked together to get the firefly in the jar without either of the two escaping, and Killian was fast to get the lid on. “Look at that, Swan. We have two now.”

“This is amazing.” She was mesmerized by the flying lights.

“The closest thing to magic.” Emma chewed on her bottom lip as she looked back to the group of fireflies.

“Your turn.”

“Go ahead and get another one. I can wait.” Emma nodded and moved closer to the bugs. Between the two of them, they caught 14 fireflies before the small jar became crowded. They spent about 15 minutes watching them move around the jar, lights going on and off throughout the small glass container, before Alice called them in for brownies.

“We should let them go before we go in.” Killian nodded in agreement.

“Would you like to do the honors?” He held out the jar to her.

“Yeah! Thanks!” She took it and positioned the opening toward where they caught the bugs. Making eye contact with Killian once more, he nodded to cue her to open it. She carefully worked the lid open before watching the fireflies pour out to fly free once more. Emma thought they looked like little stars in the dark night. They were little stars they could catch and hold. She put the jar back at the base of the tree and walked with Killian to the back door. “Thanks, Killian. That was…”

“Magical,” he finished for her.

“Yeah. Magical.” ----- The group only played one night game a year, and it was on the Fourth of July.

They could only play this night because the sandlot had no lights. But on the Fourth of July, the field was lit up as the entire town of Storybrooke lit fireworks to celebrate.

They played their best then because they all felt like the big leaguers under the lights of some great stadium. Emma was willing to bet that Killian felt like that all the time. They all knew he was gonna go on to bigger and better games because every time they stopped to watch the sky on those nights like regular kids, he was there to call them back.

However, no kid could really resist the draw of fire in the sky. Emma sat on the ground and rested her head on her knees as she stared up into the sky absolutely mesmerized. She smiled as she took in the bright red bursts, followed by the golden weeping willow pattern. It was easy to lose track of time as she gazed up into the dark sky, which for this night was a perfect canvas for the colorful explosions of fire.

When Killian could no longer keep his team from being distracted by the blinding lights in reds, blues, whites, and greens, he gave into the magic himself. But this Fourth of July game was special. When his team turned their attention to the sky rather than the game, he ran over and grabbed Emma’s hand, to which she responded with a barely noticeable gasp in surprise.

“Come along, Swan,” he whispered into her ear as he tugged on her hand.

“But everyone else is here. Shouldn't we stay?” In reality, she just wanted to watch the fireworks with her friends. She'd never seen a fireworks show quite like this.

“You're killing me, Swan! Just trust me.”

Looking back at her teammates all ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the fireworks, she turned back to the kid rubbing unconscious circles onto the back of her hand and let out a quiet “okay.” He grinned. She smiled in return and followed him as he ran out of the sandlot and to his own backyard.

“Follow me.” He let go of her hand as he started climbing the biggest tree in his yard. Emma was right behind him. He crawled into a treehouse. Emma paused outside. “What’s wrong?” Killian poked his head out the hatch that served as both entrance and exit into the small dwelling.

“It says ‘no girls allowed,’” Emma pointed to a sign just above where she would climb up into the treehouse as she tried not to laugh. Even in the dark, she could sense the tips of Killian’s ears turning pink in embarrassment.

“I think I can make an exception.” He extended his hand for her. She took it and climbed into the structure. Killian scratched behind his ear as Emma looked around. “I haven’t been up here in years. Apologies for the sign.”

“It’s fine, Killian. I get it.” She pretended not to feel the sigh of relief that he let out against the back of her neck. “But it doesn’t feel particularly sturdy.” Emma shifted slightly and felt the whole structure shake a tad.

“Maybe, but I promise the view is worth the risk.” He crawled carefully to a small and crooked window cut out of the paper-thin wall. “I spent my first Fourth of July up here. The view of the fireworks is the best.”

Emma crawled over and peeked out the tiny window next to Killian. “Wow.”

Even without looking, she knew he switched to watching her instead of the fireworks.

“I didn’t even notice this when I came over.”

“It’s pretty high up. And the leaves tend to hide it. No one would see it unless they were looking for it.”

“Yeah.”

“I meant to bring you up here when you came over, but I thought I’d wait for the fireworks. It’s worth it.” Neither of them said anything for a while as they watched the fireworks. “You know, the rest of the team doesn’t even know this treehouse exists.”

Emma turned to look at him. They didn’t have much room since the window was so small. They were both overly aware of their movements and those of the other person. “Really?”

“Liam and I built this together when we got here. That’s why it’s not-so-sturdy. But he never really came up here. It was mine. I came up here to be alone and think.”

“It’s nice for that.”

“It is. And I want you to share it, too. You’re welcome any time. If you ever need some time to yourself, just know it's here. You don’t even have to ask.”

“Thank you, Killian.” She hoped that thank you said much more than just the simple words themselves; she really hoped her true appreciation for the gesture came across. Emma was happy with Ingrid and Arthur, but it could still be overwhelming sometimes. She wasn't used to the whole family thing, and it could be a little suffocating never really being on her own anymore. And when school starts, she could picture herself coming up into that shaky treehouse to read or do homework. Emma looked at her friend to find he'd turned his attention back to the fireworks. She followed his lead, jumping in surprise slightly when he spoke again.

“And I’ll get rid of the sign.” They both laughed and watched the fireworks together. Emma felt entirely content sitting there with Killian. She was comfortable with his company. Something about the fireworks made her time with Killian in that treehouse even more special that night. And if Killian intertwined his fingers with Emma’s, well, he could say he was caught up in the magic. ----- “Okay, guys, last game of the summer. Make it a good one.” Killian glanced around the team huddled in a circle around him. The expressions on all their faces were somber, though they all seemed to be doing their best to hide it. It was the last day of summer before school started up, and while this was far from the last game they’d play even that week, the mood just changes with the start of school.

Killian nodded for the group to break and head to their spots on the field, and they did on his cue, like clockwork. “Swan! Over here. You’re batting first today.”

Emma stopped in her tracks. “What?”

“You improved our team this summer. You should bat first in the last game of summer.”

“Go for it, Swan.” Will gestured toward home plate. “It’s an honor. Jones doesn’t let us bat first in a game like this.”

Not finding the words, Emma nodded and switched places with Killian, who gave her a wink as they passed each other.

Emma took her stance at home plate and adjusted her new baseball cap to block out the sun. She pulled the bat up over her shoulder and braced herself for the pitch. Emma focused on the feel of the bat on her shoulder, the tight grip she had on the bat, and the ball headed her way. She heard the crack of the bat before she registered she hit the ball, and she looked in her hands to find the bat had shattered. The ball fell as the team stared.

“Whoa, Swan,” Will came over to inspect the bat himself.

“We’ve been playing with the same bat all summer. I mean, it was bound to happen,” Emma stared at the frayed wood. She looked up to find Killian running over.

“That is pretty cool, Swan. Major league players do this to their bats.”

“I mean, it’s an old bat.”

“Nolan.” David jerked his head up to look at Killian. “Run home and grab your extra bat.” David nodded, dropping his mitt and literally running off the pitcher’s mound. “Swan, you should keep it.” He put his hand on hers on the bat.

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.” They lingered in each other’s space for a moment, until Killian cleared his throat and let his hand drop back to his side.

“Um, yeah. Okay.” She put the bat behind home plate and off the field.

“Alright, guys,” Killian addressed the rest of the team. “Break until Nolan gets here with the bat.” The boys left their places to talk amongst themselves.

“Killian,” Emma started. He raised his eyebrows. “Do you want to come over after the game? I want to show you something.”

“Sounds great, Swan. I’ll tell Liam.” Killian ran over to his brother, then immediately back to Emma. “It’s a-go.”

“Cool.”

“Any clues to what you’re showing me?” His eyebrows bounced up and down with excitement. She laughed.

“It’s not that exciting for you. More for me.”

“It’ll be exciting for me then.”

Emma shrugged. “We’ll see.”

When they looked up, David was running back to the field, bat in hand, nearly out of breath. He handed the ball to Killian.

“Swan needs to run the bases first. She did get a home run after all.” Killian nudged Emma toward first base, and she flashed him a smile before taking off. It was a great start to the last game of summer, and the momentum lasted the whole game. They were even more carefree than usual, and the kids all played their hearts out.

----- When the team was sweating, partially sunburned, and could no longer keep the sun from their eyes, they called it a game.

“Well done, mates. Play this weekend?” Killian’s question was met with nods all around. Sneezy sneezed. “Have a great start to school, guys. Wish we could all be in the same classes.”

“Yeah, me too,” Sneezy added.

“Yeah,” Grumpy chimed in gruffly, kicking the dirt at his feet.

“Liam’s in his last year of school, you lucky bastard,” Scarlet slapped Liam on the back.

“Careful what you wish for, Scarlet. Senior year means college applications and SATs and AP classes. I might not be able to play as much as I could this summer.”

“Oi, don’t talk like that, Liam.” Killian’s voice was more defensive than he probably meant it to be.

“We’ll see, little brother.”

“Younger.” The team laughed.

“See you guys around?” Emma looked at her group of friends, not wanting to separate from them for the school year.

“We all go to the same school,” David told her, “so we’ll probably run into each other.”

“Cool.”

“Alright, guys. Go get ready for school.” Killian was anxious to get some time with Emma before they would be separated by grades at school. The boys all walked - not ran, for the first time all summer - back to their houses. Emma grabbed her shattered bat in one hand and Killian’s hand in the other and took him to her house.

She said a hello to her parents before taking Killian up to her room.

“Ready?”

“For what?”

“Ingrid and Arthur let me decorate my room, just like you said they would!” She was grinning ear-to-ear.

“Swan, that’s incredible! I can’t wait to see it!”

“Okay,” she bit her lip to keep from smiling even harder. “Here it is.” She opened her door to reveal her newly decorated room. She put her bat down behind her door and shifted her focus to her guest.

She got Starry Night sheets, just like she wanted. She had some pictures she drew framed and displayed across the walls, and her desk was covered in art supplies. The balls from the game they went to together were proudly sitting on Emma’s windowsill by her bed. But the coolest part of her room was the one wall in her room with no closet, no door, and no window. On that wall, she drew the sandlot. All her friends were represented. Killian stared in awe, eyes wide.

“Swan, that’s amazing.”

“I drew and painted it myself.”

“You’re so bloody talented. I knew you liked to draw, but this - this is something else.” He couldn’t take his eyes off the mural. Emma glanced over the details. She saw the moment Killian realized where he was in the painting. He was at home plate, hitting a home run, wearing a major league jersey with “Jones” written across the back. She had made his number his birthday. “I can’t believe this.”

“Well, you are the best one on the team. It’s pretty accurate.” She shrugged even though he was still looking at her wall.

“How long did this take you?” He finally pulled his attention off the artwork and looked at the artist.

“I stayed up way past when I should have. I’m pretty sure Ingrid and Arthur knew, but they let me. I wanted to get it done before school.” She sat on her bed and watched Killian get closer to the wall to examine the details.

He laughed. “This is going to be on your wall forever.”

“I hope so.”

He turned around and joined her, elbows knocking together gently. He still could barely peel his eyes off the wall.

“This was the best summer of my life. I want to remember it.”

“You should be an artist.”

“I like keeping my art for fun.” He nodded in understanding.

“You’re…” he let out a breath “...incredible.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Love it, Swan. I love it so much.”

“Thanks, Killian. This summer never would have been so amazing without you.” She looked at him. He was still looking at the wall.

“No, Swan.” He turned to look at her. “You’ve made this the best summer for me. Thank you. I found a best friend.”

“We both had pretty great summers, huh?”

“Aye. The best.”

“The best.” ----- While the group played together for many summers, Emma's first summer was the most magical. But as they continued their game for years, the kids grew up along the way.

David met a girl his first day of school that year, and the two of them started dating almost immediately.

Liam was working full-time while looking at colleges, but Emma could sense that he wanted something else.

The young teenagers grew into older teenagers, and the gang all got together for games even when school and jobs tried their hardest to separate them.

And Emma and Killian grew inseparable. As Killian got older, his brown hair darkened into black. He started to grow facial hair, which made him look much more his age as he matured. Emma loved the way his scruff was still brown, lighter than his hair, and she loved the red peeking through. But as she got closer to Killian and developed clear feelings for him, she knew she could never tell him and risk breaking up the group. For Emma, after having been sent back from foster homes one too many times she thought it was because of her, and Killian, whose father left his ailing wife and two sons to avoid criminal charges, the group was a comfort. This group of boys (and Emma) was solid. There was no danger of abandonment on the sandlot. They were a family. And to risk messing that up over a teenage crush just wasn't worth it in Emma's eyes. ------ The group spent a few more summers together, but eventually, they did all move away from the sandlot. Emma and Killian were the last to leave, actually. And this time, every time someone moved away, they didn't replace them. There was a permanent empty space where that person had been. The group remained a group, even after circumstances forced their separation.

Squints got contacts, so he no longer had to squint all the time. He actually ended up marrying Ariel, the lifeguard from that pool day. Turns out she admired the bravery of a teenager willing to do anything just to kiss her. They had a little girl and a little boy, and they spent every weekend at the pool.

Grumpy and Sneezy became miners, finding a group of five other men to work with even past retirement age. Grumpy ended up with a girl named Astrid, but they never married. It didn’t matter. She countered his grumpiness, and she called him Dreamy. Sneezy eventually found allergy medication that took care of his excessive sneezing, but the nickname followed him into mining.

Robin became a businessman at Mills Inc., eventually marrying his CEO, Regina. The two adopted a kid together, who Robin taught to play baseball, sandlot-style. Regina was dubbed “the Evil Queen” by Grumpy, a name that stuck with the rest of the group - as long as Robin wasn’t around, anyway. Roland Locksley is still young, but Killian claims he’s going to be an MLB pitcher one day.

Will stayed solo for much of his life, enjoying the single life until he became infatuated with a librarian who was tricked into coming to the bar Will frequented. After settling down with Belle, his life calmed down, too.

Liam joined the Navy - a lifelong dream. He rose to rank of captain before taking leave to spend time with a girl he met overseas. Liam, Elsa, and Killian spent every holiday together. Killian was there for every naval medal ceremony, and Liam was extremely highly decorated, so he and Killian saw a lot of each other despite the overseas distance between them.

David married his high school sweetheart. They got married their freshman year of college, and they had a baby not long after graduation. While Mary Margaret stayed home with their son, David went to the police academy and became an officer. He and Liam lorded their power over the group every chance they had. David's life ended up being fairytale perfect, and his son was Killian's biggest fan when, as predicted, he became an MLB player. Killian’s first team, the Mets, assumed he had a son because the wallpaper on his phone was little Leo Nolan, proudly wearing an official MLB Jones jersey.

Drafted right out of college to the Mets, Killian Jones moved to the city to play the game he loved. He and Emma had gotten close over the summers playing ball together. In fact, when Emma got into NYU, she and Killian decided to become roommates, seeing as NYU was exactly 24 minutes from Citi Field. Emma spent her days in journalism and sports management classes, and she attended every night game to watch Killian play baseball. It was Killian who encouraged her to take up journalism after reading one of her creative writing assignments - a written account of that first summer she spent with the group. In the big leagues, Killian started in left field, then moved to second base. Emma made signs and everything when she went to the games. And Killian made sure she kept drawing, letting her design their shared apartment.

The whole team went to every wedding, and they reunited every few years to play the occasional game of baseball in the sandlot, always picking up right where they left off. These games got larger and larger as all their families grew, and the sandlot became a place for everyone to catch up. Leo and Roland became friends, starting their own sandlot game with Eric and Ariel’s kids. They would all say the thing they were most proud to pass on to their kids was that sandlot. ------ Emma was terrified things would change when Killian got traded to the Pittsburgh Pirates. He had been slowing down in the game and striking out more, so the Mets were happy to trade him. And the Pirates were happy to sign him. However, PNC Park was way more than 24 minutes from where Emma and Killian shared an apartment.

But Killian had a contract, so with unshed tears threatening to spill, he hugged Emma goodbye in the airport with promises to “see you soon,” and, “hit lots of home runs for you.” Unable to hold back her own tears, she responded with a shaky, “you better,” and she kissed his cheek before they both turned away and went in opposite directions.

They had both known what was happening between them over the years, but they both individually decided that emotional involvement would hurt the game, so to speak. And both knew that if they turned back at this moment in the airport, they could never find the strength to walk away again. So they both went on, not looking back at the other. ----- He came to her graduation. He sat with the Swans, the foster family that decided to adopt her. After hugs from her parents, she turned to her best friend, both of them wearing matching beaming smiles.

“I'm so proud of you, Swan.” They moved in simultaneously to hug each other, the reunion long overdue. Between classes, a job, and her internship, Emma didn't even know what free time felt like anymore. And Killian was busy as part of the main lineup for the Pirates, as well as with his nice promotion to shortstop, where he excelled. But between home games, away games, training, practice, and workouts, he spent his free time sleeping. He never got used to switching time zones so often.

But all that was forgotten as the two hugged outside NYU’s stadium. Diploma in one hand, Killian took Emma's other hand as they walked behind the Swans to their car before a celebratory dinner in Emma's honor. And throughout the night, she just kept thinking how much it felt like old times. ----- “And up to bat is Pirates number 2, shortstop Killian Jones. He may be new to the Pirates, but he’s already changed the way this entire team plays. No other man could take a near-last place team and turn them into a World Series contender. What a huge loss for the Mets, trading the league’s star player when he was only in a bit of a rut.” Emma smiled to herself, proud of her best friend for everything he’s accomplished. He looked up at the media suites as he exited the dugout and practiced a couple swings. She knew he couldn’t see her, but the fact that he knew she was there made her borderline giddy. She would swear she saw him wink her way as he strutted to the left side of home plate. “And the man himself steps up to the plate,” Emma announced.

The pitch was thrown, and Emma watched Killian jerk backwards to avoid being hit by the 94-mile per hour fastball.

“And the pitch will be taken as a ball.” Emma let out a sigh of relief as she looked down and confirmed he wasn’t hit. Away from the microphone, she muttered, “jeez. You don’t have to try to take him out.” The radio reporter next to Emma laughed at her murmuring, sending her a knowing look. Emma flashed the reporter an appreciative smile as she sat up again to reach the microphone.

“And the second pitch,” she paused as Killian hit the ball impossibly high, but into the stands behind him, “will be taken for a foul. Strike one.” Sitting back as the pitcher and Killian prepare for the next pitch, she whispered to herself, quieter than before as not to be overheard again, “c’mon Killian. You’ve got this.”

When Killian stepped back up to the plate, Emma straightened her posture and got ready to get back to her job.

“The score is 4-3, the tying run is at first, two outs, and the count is 1-1 at the bottom of the 11th. A place in the World Series is at stake. Jones steps up to the plate, and this pitch is again taken as a foul. The count is now 1-2 for Pirates’ star player, shortstop Killian Jones.”

Killian took another step back and took a few practice swings. Emma held her breath as the next pitch soared straight into the zone, only to be met by Killian's bat. He followed through on the swing and watched as the ball flew.

“Jones hits the ball. And it's going, going, still going, gone,” Emma screamed into the microphone. “Goodbye home run!” Emma smiled and laughed along as the entire media suite cheered. As Killian finished rounding the bases, she took her seat again. “And Jones gets both the tying and winning runs home with an impressive home run. That's the ballgame. The final score is 4-5 Pirates after 11 innings of gameplay.” She paused so the excitement could build. “And the Pirates are going to the World Series!”

The crowd had been cheering consistently since Killian's home run, but the idea of a World Series run made the people in the stands scream even louder.

“Thanks for joining us at PNC Park tonight. We hope you'll see you soon. Drive safely everyone.” And with that, Emma's job was done. She sat back in her swivel chair as Killian signed some baseballs, mini-bats, and hats from some fans in the stands before heading to the locker room to, no doubt, shower. Emma couldn't go without seeing him, so she checked her phone while fans filed out of the stadium. The radio and tv announcers around her all left before her, and she acknowledged each of their departures as they left.

Hoping she wouldn't get kicked out for being there so late, she snuck down to the field and wandered over to home plate. Standing next to the plate, she took in the night sky in front of her, the stadium’s blinding lights still on.

“So, Swan, first woman to announce a Major League Baseball game live. I knew you could do it.”

Emma jerked around when she heard him. She couldn't help the smile that broke out on her face.

“Although, I don’t know why you went to university for journalism all those years when you were perfectly capable of calling a baseball game at 15.” He paused for a moment before adding, “still impressive nonetheless.”

“Well, I’m no shortstop for the Pittsburgh Pirates.” Emma watched Killian’s tongue dart out to wet his lips. Her gaze dropped to her shoes in the dirt as she pretended not to be affected.

Apparently, he had the same goal in mind. Avoiding the topic on both their minds, he said “I know I made you work extra tonight. Sorry about that, by the way.” He adjusted the strap of his gear bag.

“Yeah,” she fiddled with the ends of some of her hair that fell over her shoulder. “You know I don't get paid extra for extra innings, right?” She teased. He laughed.

“I really am proud of you, Swan. They started you on a really high-stakes game.” He paused. “And they really should pay you extra for those two innings.” They shared timid smiles, making it known to each other that they were both aware of their connection and both unsure whether to acknowledge it.

“I could never have gotten here without you. All those years ago, you took a chance on a teenage girl who didn’t even know how to play catch.”

Killian shrugged, but the meaning behind his words was anything but casual. “I just introduced her to the greatest game in the universe. She did the rest on her own.” Emma could see the pride in his bright blue eyes - pride for her.

“You know, PNC Park is a lot bigger than the sandlot.”

“Aye. That it is.”

“You certainly seem right at home.” Killian shrugged again, the tips of his ears tinged light pink. “Think you’ll stick around on the Pirates another season?”

“I hope so. I like it here. And I quite fancy the Pirates’ new announcer.” He scratched that spot behind his ear, just like he used to do when they were teenagers. It was in this moment - looking at Killian and seeing the same kid from the sandlot - that she made her decision.

Emma smiled and replied, “good,” before reaching up and removing her baseball cap, tossing it behind her. She tangled her fingers in Killian’s hair, still wet from his post-game shower, and pulled his face to hers, though pull may have been an overstatement, as he went right along with it without complaint. The moment their lips touched was magical. It was better than playing baseball with fireworks as a light source. It was better than stealing home. It was better than hitting a grand slam. They pulled away for air, but they kept their foreheads pressed together. Her eyes were closed as he opened his and brought his fingers up to his lips, which were still tingling.

“That was…” Emma interrupted herself with a short laugh. She opened her eyes and her green ones met his blue ones. She bit her lip as he sighed in contentment and disbelief. Killian brought a hand to her cheek, caressing her face so his thumb landed in the dimple in her chin.

Finally, he spoke. “You’re killing me, Swan.”

#fallforcs #fallforcaptainswan #fallforcs 2018 #you're killing me swan #the-girl-in-the-band-tshirt #classiczebra #captain swan #cs ff #cs fanfic #sandlot au #theonceoverthinker #sailingcaptainswan #thank you everyone #i hope you loved it

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eastwesthomeisbest · 6 years ago

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And this is my second contribution to the @fallforcs event - my artwork for @hungrywhovianpotterheadfrom221b ’s story "Game of Swans". Check out this beautiful story! ❤❤❤

#fallforcs 2018 #fall for captain swan #fallforcaptainswan #fallforcs #author reveal #game of swans #hungrywhovianpotterheadfrom221b #captain swan #captain swan manip #captain swan edit #captainswanedit #cs edit #cs manip #csedit #my edit #my manip #i love this story

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fallforcs · 6 years ago

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Feel Again

Author: @thislassishooked

Summary: Killian had not been expecting to walk in on the blonde goddess dancing to very loud music in her knickers, but as he pounded on the door separating them, it flew open. After an awkward meeting, the two form an instant friendship, but what Killian feels for Emma is so much more. Can he convince her that they are meant to be, before fate steps in and tears them apart?

Rated: M for language and eventual smut

Betad by: @ilovemesomekillianjones

Art by: @branlovesouat

With a large pizza box balancing on his right hand and a fanny pack, which his brother insisted was the most efficient way to carry cash, Killian closed the door to his black Chevelle and proceeded to the building’s entrance. It was a large brick apartment building with four floors, and of course the bloody apartment he was looking for was on the fourth floor.

“Today is not my day,” he groaned as he eyed the out of order sign taped across the elevator. He knew this day was going to utterly suck when the usual delivery driver called in sick, and Killian was the only one with a free schedule after having finished prepping fresh toppings in the kitchen. One of the many “perks” of co-owning a pizza joint with Liam, Killian lamented.

As Killian reached the fourth floor, he could hear familiar music coming from the direction he was headed in. Sure enough, he arrived at apartment 413 and the source of the catchy tune. OneRepublic's Feel Again was playing loudly as Killian knocked on the door. After a moment he surmised that the occupant couldn’t hear over the music so he pounded on the door and gasped when the door flew open from the force. Killian would have been mortified by the accidental intrusion, but instead he fell into a sort of trance as he watched a beautiful siren dancing in a red lace bra and matching panties with what appeared to be an unbuttoned men’s shirt loosely hanging off her shoulders. She didn’t seem to notice him as she continued to dance and shake her hips. Her gorgeous blonde locks swayed as she carelessly spun in circles, eyes shut, giving Killian a view of all her assets. He tried to speak, but found that no words were coming to him. It was only when she bent down, her arse on full display that Killian knew if he didn’t get her attention soon, he was going to have a very noticeable reaction. He cleared his throat as loudly as he could, then flinched as he watched her freeze. She turned her head to peek over her shoulder and let out a surprised scream, then bolted to the room to his right. Killian was so startled that he lost control of the pizza and cursed as the box fell upside down on the floor.

“Hey!” he heard over the music. He looked to his right to spy her head popping out from the doorway. “Go over to the coffee table and hit pause on my phone,” she calmly instructed.

He did as he was told and suddenly felt very awkward in the heavy silence. He had to say something. “I’m terribly sorry lass. I had to knock loudly to get your attention over the music and the door, it just…”

“It’s fine,” she affirmed. “The latch is broken and I guess I forgot to lock the deadbolt.”

She stepped out of the room with the same shirt, now buttoned up and what he assumed were sleep shorts. Her face was flushed, probably matching his own beet red face.

“Do you always dance in your knickers after ordering a pizza?” he quipped, hoping to break the tension and praying that it didn’t backfire. The corner of her mouth lifted just a bit as well as an eyebrow.

“I didn’t order any pizza,” she stated while walking up to him. Killian’s stomach fell as he rechecked the order details.

“It says here that an order for a large carnivore was placed by one Ruby Lucas at 216 Queensbury Street, Apartment 413.” He held up the receipt and saw her nod of recognition then patiently watched as she quickly placed a call, holding her finger up as she held the phone to her ear.

“Ruby…” she started. “Yes, it just arrived. You could have said something, I was caught completely by surprise.” He noticed her blush deepen and couldn’t help the grin that grew as her conversation continued. “Wait, let me get this straight. You ordered a large pizza with enough meat to satisfy a pack of wolves and you’re not even going to make it home to eat any? What am I supposed to do with that much meat?” Killian could hear her friend giggling loudly, then watched as the blonde walked passed him to a drawer in the kitchen. “Yep, there’s definitely enough here,” she stated as she pulled out a wad of cash. Then she sighed exasperatedly and looked at him, eyes trailing up and down his form and stopping once their eyes connected. Killian never understood what people meant by butterflies in the stomach until this moment as they gazed at each other for what felt like hours. Finally blinking, she cleared her throat, uttered a quiet response to her friend and hung up.

“Everything alright, love?” he asked after a long stretch of silence.

“What? Yah, sorry, just have a lot on my mind. Ruby, my roommate, ordered the pizza then realized that she was staying at her boyfriend’s place tonight. Anyway, this should be enough to cover it and a tip.” She offered him a few bills, but he sat the pizza down on the counter and waved her off.

“Afraid I can’t accept that, love.”

“Why is that?” she asked indignantly.

“Well, you see…” Killian reached up to scratch behind his ear, “when you reacted to my presence I panicked and lost my grip on the box. I’m afraid it fell upside down and is probably a right mess.” The tension in her shoulders eased a bit as she eyed the box then him.

“There’s only one way to find out.” She reached for the lid and slowly lifted the cardboard to reveal exactly what Killian feared. Cheese and meat were stuck to the top with strings of gooey mozzarella leading down to an unidentifiable saucy mess. But the lovely woman to his right was not disgusted or angry, she was… laughing, hysterically. Killian found himself cracking up as well. Once they stifled their giggling, the blonde held out her hand to him. “I’m Emma.”

“Killian,” he greeted, taking her hand. Something passed between them at the contact. It was almost like electricity, and judging by her quick intake of breath, she felt it as well. She pulled her hand away and bit her bottom lip in contemplation. Killian began to back up to the door, not wanting to take his eyes off Emma, but felt it best to make a hasty exit. “You may want to have your super take a look at your latch soon, before something like this happens again, lass.” He turned to reach for the doorknob, when he heard her speak again.

“Killian?”

He turned to face her and could see she was nervously tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“Would you like to stay and perhaps help me eat this giant meat fest?” She was biting her lip again and Killian breathed a sigh of relief. “That is, if you’re free. If you have other deliveries or somewhere else to be or perhaps a girlfriend or family to get back to then you should definitely go.” She spoke quickly and almost incoherently. “Sorry I tend to babble when I’m nervous,” she admitted sheepishly.

Killian stepped away from the door and took two long strides toward her, a goofy smile on his face that she readily returned “As luck would have it, Emma, I am completely free for the evening and would love nothing more than to assist you in consuming that bloody mess of a pizza… on one condition,” he said with a quirk of an eyebrow.

“And what would that be?” she asked breathily after a moment’s hesitation.

“I would like to know your full name, love”

“Swan. Emma Swan.”

“Swan.” He spoke softly as he lifted her hand, bowed his head, keeping eye contact and placed a light kiss on the back of her hand. She gasped at the intimate gesture. “Killian Jones, pizza connoisseur, fan of scantily dressed beauties and all around nice guy.” Emma chuckled at his ridiculous introduction and he decided that it was now his favorite sound.

“Yeah, about the scantily dressed dancing...” Killian’s eyebrows reached his hairline in anticipation. “It’s laundry day and this is literally the only clean clothing I have for the next,” she checked her phone, “twenty five minutes.”

“You’ll hear no complaints from me, Swan.” She was laughing again and Killian’s body was practically vibrating.

“I’ll grab some plates and something to scrape the toppings off the lid.”

Killian couldn’t believe his luck. Today was supposed to be a rotten day, but now he found himself having dinner with the loveliest woman he had ever set eyes on. He watched as she reached for the plates in the cupboard, exposing her toned, long legs.

“Beer?” she asked, snapping him out of his reverie.

“Aye, love, thank you,” he answered taking the offered plate and beer.

“So, what do you do when you’re not delivering pizza, Killian?” she asked as she used a spatula to remove the cheesy mess from the box lid.

“I actually never deliver pizza. My brother and I own Neverland Pizza and Pub. I was just finishing up prepping the toppings that we’d need for the evening when one of our drivers called in sick. Your roommate’s pizza was ready to go and the replacement driver wasn’t going to be there for at least ten minutes, so I begrudgingly offered to take it meself.” He took a long swig of his beer and settled in across from her at the kitchen island.

“Begrudgingly, huh?” she teased.

“Yes, well, most deliveries don’t end with me sharing a meal with a beautiful, half-naked woman.” He flashed her a philandering grin as a blush covered every inch of her exposed skin.

“Most?” she ribbed.

“None,” he corrected.

They continued to eat and learn about each other. He discovered that she was a criminal justice major at Boston University. He was also attending Boston University as a grad student in filmmaking. After graduation he wanted to get a crew of his own and finally make his documentary.

“Liam thinks it’s reckless and we have a good thing going with the restaurant, but making pizza and bartending is not my dream. Besides, I don’t really like people that much, aside from you lass.”

Emma gave a very unladylike, but adorable snort. “I can relate; not a people person myself. But your brother is right about one thing, you do have a good thing with the restaurant, this pizza is amazing.”

It was his turn to blush as he scratched behind his right ear bashfully.

“Why Neverland Pizza?” Emma asked.

“When my brother and I were younger we watched Peter Pan many times. Being in the system, it was every kid’s dream to be taken to an island full of other lost boys and girls. As we aged we realized Peter was a bit of an unpleasant brat, so we found ourselves rooting for Captain Hook. In the book Peter and Wendy he’s portrayed as an intellectual and a clever leader. I even found myself researching historical pirates and that was my focus as an undergrad history major.”

When he raised his head to look in her eyes, he saw something akin to sad recognition. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears.

“Have I said something to upset you Emma?” he asked tentatively.

“No, it’s just… we have a lot in common, but we can save that conversation for another time,” she assured as she dabbed her eyes with her sleeve.

Killian would let it go for now, with her promise of another time.

As the hours passed, they finished off the now cold pizza and beer, while discussing everything from movies to music to pastries. Emma loved bear claws and pop tarts, which Killian couldn’t help but make a face at. She playfully shoved him, but he caught her hand before she could retreat. The laughter died down and they just sat facing each other, gazes locked, until Emma’s phone buzzed and the moment was lost. She pulled her hand away and began cleaning up.

“I suppose it’s getting late,” Killian started, then nearly choked on his last gulp of beer when he saw that it was past midnight. They had been talking for six hours!

“Yeah, time flies when you’re…” she trailed off, unsure of her next words. Something had changed in her demeanor. She seemed suddenly distant and jumpy. Killian could sense that his presence may be making her uncomfortable.

“This was fun, Emma Swan, so, another time?” he asked recycling her words.

“Yeah, maybe. It’s really late and you should go.”

She led him to the door and taking the hint, he made his exit with a nearly whispered, “Goodnight Emma.”

“Goodnight Killian.”

As he made it back to his car, he wracked his brain wondering where he went wrong. He’d had a wonderful time and they’d had a comfortable conversation, which is really saying something considering the circumstances of their meeting. Running his hand through his hair and down his face, he let out a long, frustrated sigh and started up his car for the short drive home.

----------

Emma looked at her phone shortly after sending Killian on his way. Walsh had texted her again, a half assed apology that she had no intention of accepting. The text had startled her into awareness. She was enjoying the company of a strikingly handsome stranger with the bluest eyes she had ever laid eyes on, one who had seen her half naked! The dopey, shy smile he gave her had her walls crumbling faster than she was comfortable with. His raven black hair kept falling over his forehead and her fingers actually itched to swoop it back. It had only been a week since she’d discovered Walsh in their future apartment, with another woman in their would-be bed, and she was already flirting with a relative stranger? So naturally, she’d panicked and rushed the sexy delivery boy, strike that, man out the door, and immediately felt the loss. Sleep would not come easy to Emma, so she busied herself with discarding the empty pizza box and beer bottles and settled on the couch with Netflix and a fuzzy blanket.

“Okay, what is up with you lately?” Emma flinched at the question that her sister-in-law threw at her. “One minute you’re celebrating the end of your relationship with that scumbag Walsh, and the next you’re moping around the apartment asking if anyone wants pizza.” Mary Margaret was always annoyingly observant.

“I just…” Emma stumbled over her words, “realized that perhaps I didn’t take enough time to mourn the end of my relationship,” she lied. “I mean, I was with him for two years, Mary Margaret, maybe I could have been a better girlfriend.”

“Why are you blaming yourself for his mistakes? You were a great girlfriend, always cleaning up after him, suggesting fun things to do on weekends. He was a bad boyfriend. He never put any effort in, never took you anywhere. He was a bum Emma. You deserve better,” Mary Margaret affirmed.

The moment Mary Margaret said she deserved better, her mind immediately conjured up Killian’s handsome face and kind, blue eyes. She missed him and his stupidly sexy accent. And she probably fucked up any chance of speaking with him again after rudely rushing him out of her apartment.

“Hey, where’d you go just now?” Mary Margaret snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Nowhere, just thinking,” she deflected.

“Well, it’s time that we get to planning your birthday party.”

Emma laid a pillow over her face and groaned.

“This year MnM, can we just stay in, invite close friends, maybe play some games?”

Mary Margaret considered her for far longer than she was comfortable with.

“That’s an excellent idea. I’ll have David get the word out to the guys, we can move your couch off to the side, and we can set up the round card table that August has. And we can order tons of that pizza you can’t seem to get your mind off of.”

Mary Margaret continued to visualize where everything would go, and prattled on about decorations, but Emma’s traitorous mind went to Killian again. She hadn’t told anyone about him except Ruby, because she would never hear the end of it if she didn’t give more details about her encounter to her roommate. She wished he could be there, but after her behavior that night, she doubted he’d even want to talk to her.

----------

“Killian, will you please pull your head out of the clouds and help me with this order?” Liam grumbled. They had a full restaurant for lunch, plus a call in order of six large specialty pizzas that was meant to go out at seven, and Killian only had one thing on his mind. “Are you thinkin’ about that lass again? What was it... Emily?”

“Emma,” Killian quickly corrected.

“I know brother, how could I forget the object of your obsession.” Liam jabbed Killian playfully in the ribs.

“Oh, are we talking about Emma again?” Belle asked from the doorway into the kitchen.

Killian just huffed at his friend’s interest in the non subject. He clearly had no chance with her, she made that clear when she practically threw him out of her apartment two weeks ago.

“Killian, you know where she lives, just go over there and see what happens. This constant pining has to stop. You can’t even prep a proper pizza anymore.” Belle gestured to the scrambled mess of ingredients that sat atop his current creation. “You used to make it look like an artform, and now you just toss the toppings on and move on to the next one.”

“I have a lot on my mind Belle. Not everything is centered around pizza in my life. I have school to think about, next semester’s tuition, rent…”

“Emma,” Liam interjected. “Listen little brother…”

“That’s younger brother,” Killian corrected.

“Fine, younger brother, you have the weekend off, in fact you shouldn’t even be here. Go home, get gussied up and go out. If you’re unwilling to try to pursue anything with the Lady Emma, then get your arse out there and meet another lovely lass.”

Killian had no choice but to relent. He didn’t really feel like prepping pizzas all day anyway. He could go home and continue working on his final project for his Master’s degree. He had yet to perfect the storyboard. Going out and meeting someone was not an option in his opinion. He needed more time to get Emma out of his system.

“Alright, I’m leaving, satisfied?”

Both Liam and Belle gave him wide, cheesy grins and nodded.

Killian stepped into the hot shower and was flooded with images of Emma’s beautiful, nearly naked form dancing. He saw the swell of her perfect breasts when she spun to the music in her living room. The image of her immaculate hind quarters as she bent herself in half swirled in his mind. He had a problem, a very prominent problem that needed to be taken care of. So he sighed and turned the water to cold and thought only of her lovely smile and laugh. He wanted to hear it again. He wanted to banter with her and let her wit and charm wash over him. He wanted it and he was determined to try again with her. He finished his shower, dressed in his best outfit and went to grab his wallet which wasn’t in its usual place. He must have left it at Neverland, so he snagged his keys and headed back.

“Killian, welcome back, what are you doing here?” Robin asked as Killian walked in.

“Wallet, must have left it here,” he explained, breezing past the bartender.

“Order up for those six specialties!” Liam’s voice boomed from the kitchen.

Henry, the delivery boy for the evening retrieved them and read out the address just loud enough for Killian to hear. “216 Queensbury Street, Apartment 413. Okay, I’m off!”

“Hold up Henry.” Killian rushed to get his wallet and pulled out enough money to pay for the pizzas and a large tip for Henry. “I’ve got this one, lad,” he said with a wide grin.

“Awesome, thanks Killian!”

Killian couldn’t believe his luck. He had an actual excuse to see Emma again.

“Okay, what was that all about? I thought you were going out?” Belle asked.

Killian turned and placed his hand on the large stack of pizzas.

“These pizzas are going to Emma’s apartment,” he clarified with a bright grin and a wink.

“Don’t stay out too late,” Bell winked back.

Killian loaded the delivery into his car and raced to Emma’s, eager to see her again.

----------

“Emma, it’s a party, your party. At least try to smile?” Ruby begged.

Emma smiled wide for her friend. She really was being a bit of a downer. Why did Killian still have this affect on her two weeks later. She only spent six hours with the man. And now pizza from his restaurant was on its way and she knew his gorgeous face would not be greeting her at the door.

“Ruby, why did you order so much pizza? There’s only eight of us here?” David asked, flabbergasted.

“Because it’s the best damn pizza in town and I wanted to make sure everyone got their fill.”

“And because she’ll easily wolf down a whole pie on her own,” Victor added endearingly. Ruby nodded in agreement.

A moment later a knock came from the door and Emma asked Ruby to answer it.

Ruby strolled to the now fixed door and opened it wide to find a pair of legs, waist, and arms holding a stack of pizzas covering the upper half.

“Here, let me help you with that,” David offered. He took three of the boxes to reveal Killian’s face. Ruby instantly knew it had to be Emma’s mystery man and object of her affection.

“Are you Killian by chance?” she whispered closely.

“Aye.”

Ruby looked him up and down shamelessly, nodding her head. “Emma was right, you are the hottest pizza delivery boy, er, man on the planet.”

“Let me guess, that’s what she whispered into the phone after looking me over, quite like you just did,” Killian smirked.

Ruby just winked in reply.

“Ems, you should come say hi to our delivery boy,” Ruby called over her shoulder.

Emma huffed, but knew better than to ignore Ruby’s requests. She could be quite pushy. Emma got up from the couch that was pushed off to the side of the living room and made her way around the card table and then found herself momentarily frozen when her eyes met his. He’s here, at her door, delivering pizza again. Ruby took the remaining three boxes from him and invited him in. When Emma finally felt she was able to walk again without stumbling, she made the rest of the trek to meet him.

“I thought you said you didn’t deliver pizza,” she said breathlessly.

Killian reached behind his right ear to scratch what was probably a non-existent itch. He was clearly nervous. “I don’t, but when I heard the address these pizzas were heading to, I offered to take them myself. I wanted to see you again, Emma,” he said with a shy smile.

Emma couldn’t help her own shy smile. She also noticed that everyone was staring expectantly at them.

----------

God, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. And she appeared to be happy to see him. She grabbed his arm to drag him in the door so he could see everyone else in the apartment.

“Everyone, this is Killian. Killian this is Mary Margaret Nolan, my sister-in-law,” she said as a woman with dark hair, cut into a pixie style strolled up to him with a huge smile.

“It’s very nice to meet you Killian. This is the first time Emma has genuinely smiled all day, or maybe weeks.”

Emma visibly blushed at that and Killian found it adorable.

“It’s nice to meet you as well Mary Margaret, and to be honest, I haven’t found myself smiling much in weeks either.”

Emma bit her lip and smiled even wider at him.

“Okay, I’m confused, what exactly happened weeks ago that I know nothing about?” a tall man, with blond hair asked.

“Killian this is my brother David Nolan.”

Killian extended his hand to shake David’s hand, but he kept his arms crossed in front of him awaiting an explanation.

“David, don’t be rude. I’ll explain everything.”

David extended his hand then, but the handshake was a tad bit tighter than necessary. Killian figured he was very protective of his sister.

“Killian delivered a pizza to me two weeks ago that was meant for Ruby, but she was staying at Victor’s place, so he stayed and we talked for a while.”

Emma left out a few minor details for obvious reasons. She was blushing again, probably from the memory of the part she left out.

“That still doesn’t explain why you’ve been in state of mourning for the last two weeks. Did he do something to upset you?”

A pained expression passed over Emma’s face.

“No, it was all me. I panicked when I realized I felt so comfortable with Killian, who was practically a stranger. It wasn’t long after the Walsh incident, so I kind of kicked him out of the apartment, and I’m really sorry about that Killian,” she said turning to him.

Emma had a look on her face that told Killian she was worried he might be upset with her. “Love, it’s alright. I must admit I was very confused and worried that I had done something to offend you. You’re right, we are practically strangers to each other, but I’d very much like the opportunity to rectify that.”

She smiled and bit her lip again. “I’d like that.”

David seemed satisfied so Emma continued the introductions. He met Graham next, an Irishman with curly brown hair and eyes, and a smattering of scruff similar to his own. Ruby was striking with long brown hair and very red lips. Her boyfriend, Victor, was a weasley man, in appearance only, with terrible bleach blond hair. They were an odd pairing, but very affectionate toward each other. Elsa was also striking in a regal way, with light blonde hair and very blue eyes. He also learned that she was not attached to anyone at the party, and she was definitely Liam’s type. A plan started to form in his head. The last guest was August, a scruffy man with brown hair and eyes, who apparently loved to gamble. Killian would enjoy beating him at poker.

Everyone dug into the pizza and for a few moments the only sounds in the apartments were moans and chewing, but Killian tuned out everyone else but Emma. When she took her first bite, she closed her eyes and let out a sensual moan that sent desire coursing through him. He was sure he was falling for her and falling hard. He needed a distraction before his body reacted to her sounds of pleasure. That’s when he noticed there was a birthday banner hung across the living room wall and balloons everywhere.

“Who’s birthday are we celebrating?” he asked David.

“Emma’s, actually.”

Killian whipped his head back to Emma, who was working on a pretty big bite, and she just gave him a guilty shrug.

“Happy birthday, love. I suppose the pizza will have to do for now as your gift.”

“Oh shit, I never even offered to pay. How much do I owe you?” Ruby asked.

“It's already been taken care of, lass, you don’t owe me anything.”

“This much pizza must have cost a fortune!” Emma blurted out.

“It was worth the cost to see you again, love.”

Emma blushed at his words.

“So Killian, what do you do when you’re not delivering pizza?” David asked.

“I’m a film student at Boston University working on my master’s actually.”

“That’s impressive,” Mary Margaret piped in. “What kind of movies do you want to make?”

“Documentaries. I’m working on my final project right now which is a documentary about Black Sam Bellamy. I’m hoping to finish my storyboard by the end of the month and get some filming done before winter sets in.”

“Who’s Black Sam?” August asked.

Emma jumped in before Killian could answer. “He was a pirate captain during the Golden Age of Piracy. If I remember correctly he became the richest pirate in history. He’s also sometimes referred to as The Robin Hood of the Seas, and he never killed his captives except in self defense.”

She looked to Killian for confirmation and he was so impressed that it took him a moment to respond.

“Aye, that was all correct. Emma you’re amazing, how do you know all of that, love?”

Emma blushed as she explained. “I’m kind of, really into pirates, ever since I was a little girl. I used to pretend I was Anne Bonny, sailing with Calico Jack on the Kingston. You have to have an active imagination when you grow up alone in the system.”

This woman would never cease to amaze him. Whoever this Walsh character was, he was a right git for letting her go. He understood now why she looked so sad when he regaled his story about him and Liam being orphaned.

“How about a game?” Mary Margaret chimed in.

Everyone agreed on charades, and by the end, Killian’s sides hurt from laughing so much. When Emma suggested poker, there were some obvious groans. Killian realized after three rounds of Emma winning that she was the reason. She had an uncanny talent for detecting lies. However, Killian got the best of her the next three rounds, turning on so much charm, that he threw her off her game.

Later, Emma and Killian lounged on the couch, making each other laugh, both a little tipsy, when he blurted out something he instantly regretted.

“You’re so amazing, how could anyone not love you.”

He only meant it to be a compliment, but he knew the second the words left his mouth, that it was a poor choice of words. Emma’s face fell and his heart hurt so much for her.

“I’m so sorry, love. That was a stupid thing to say.”

He waited on bated breath for her to say something. He feared she would shut him out for his callousness, but she continued to surprise him. He watched her face morph into something resembling resolution.

“You’re damn right, I am amazing.”

He let out a relieved sigh and she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you Killian, for making me feel wanted. You’re pretty amazing too. I hope you know that.”

God, if she knew how much he wanted her, she’d probably slap him. He had no words so instead he gave her an appreciative smile. Elsa came over at that moment to flop into the armchair next to them.

“So Killian, Emma said you co-own Neverland Pizza with your brother?”

“Aye, Liam, he’s an insufferable know-it-all, as stubborn as they come,” Killian said with a smirk. He was only half serious.

“He sounds charming,” Elsa laughed out.

“That he is lass. He practically raised me. As soon as he turned 18, he filed for guardianship to get me out of the orphanage. He worked twelve hour days at the docks to support us while I finished school. When I graduated and moved here on scholarship, he joined the British Royal Navy for a few years, even rising to the rank of Captain,” he said with pride.

“How on earth did you two end up owning a restaurant?”

“After I earned my bachelor’s degree, he left the Navy to join me in the states. I was giving him a tour of the city when we walked past the vacant building and Liam started telling me all the potential it had. We knew we wanted to make it a bar, but it also had a large kitchen and dining area so we researched surrounding restaurants, found there was a lack of pizza and the decision was made. We combined our savings to pay the deposit and did the renovation ourselves, with the help of some good friends.”

“Wow, I’m impressed. I should really stop by to see the place.”

Killian remembered that Halloween was coming up soon, which meant the night of the annual Neverland costume party.

“Why don’t you all come on Halloween, we host a party every year. We even hire temp workers so the employees get to join in on the fun.”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun. Do you dress up?” Ruby asked.

“Costumes are not required, but definitely encouraged.”

“What do you dress as?” Emma asked him sleepily.

“Sorry Swan, that’s for me to know and you to find out. Will you come?” he asked hopefully.

“How could I say no to that face? Of course I’ll be there.”

“Count us in,” Ruby said, gesturing between Victor and herself.

“Us too,” David said.

Eventually everyone had agreed to come after they checked their schedules. By this time, Emma had fallen asleep leaning against him. Everyone started trickling out except David and Mary Margaret. Ruby had decided to stay with Victor for the night. Emma’s head started to slide further down his side so he grabbed a pillow and settled her head in his lap. He wasn’t sure if he should get up or let her sleep. She looked so peaceful.

“You’re probably stuck for the night. Emma is a hardcore insomniac. If you move she may wake up and will probably not be very happy with you,” David told him.

“Aye, thanks for the advice. If you wouldn’t mind getting a blanket for her and turning out the lights when you leave, I believe I’ll be just fine.”

David nodded and started to head in the direction of Emma’s bedroom when he paused to tell Killian something.

“You’re good for her. She’s had a rough life, been let down and betrayed too many times. She doesn’t trust easily or open up to many people, but she seems to trust you. And I honestly have never seen her happier than she was tonight. Just… be patient with her. Don’t move too quickly.”

“Aye, mate, I understand,” Killian said appreciatively.

David nodded again then moved to grab her favorite fuzzy blanket. The couple bid Killian goodnight, turning off the lights as they left, shrouding him and Emma in darkness. He settled in, happy to be with the woman who had stolen his heart.

----------

There was light shining against her closed eyes, threatening her sleepy state. She was so comfortable and desperately didn’t want to get up. Wait, why is there light in my room, she thought, there were blinds in her bedroom, after all. She opened her eyes and realized she was on her couch in her living room. She heard soft snores coming from above her so she rolled onto her back and was greeted with a glorious sight. Killian had his head tipped back against the top of the couch, one arm propped on the arm of the couch, and the other was resting on her stomach. Her head was resting in his lap, thankfully with a pillow between them. She must have fallen asleep on him and he stayed like this all night so that she could get the most restful nights sleep she had had in months. Her heart fluttered at the thought. She took a few minutes to study him, not wanting to wake him just yet because the sight of him sleeping was gorgeous. A swoop of his hair was resting on his forehead and it was adorable. His mouth was parted slightly and she longed to find out if his lips were as soft as they looked. She itched to rub her hand against his scruffy cheek. A soft hum escaped her which was enough to stir him awake. Suddenly she was feeling very self conscious. Her hair and make-up were probably a mess. He lifted his head, rubbed his neck and then smiled down at her.

“Hello, beautiful,” he said with a gravelly voice.

Emma felt her face warm at the endearment. Her eyeliner and mascara had probably given her racoon eye and the first thing he said was that she’s beautiful. She felt a swell of affection for him.

“Good morning, handsome.” His smile grew at her words. “I’m sorry if your neck hurts, that must not have been very comfortable.”

“On the contrary, love, I slept like a rock. It must have something to do with the lovely woman sleeping in my lap.”

She giggled, then decided it was probably time to give his lap a break and rose from her position.

“Would you like some breakfast, or do you need to be somewhere?”

“I would love to have breakfast with you, Emma. As it turns out, I have nowhere to be all day,” he replied, still smiling.

She didn’t move to get up though, finding herself lost in his too blue eyes. He gazed back, seemingly content with their little staring contest. It should have felt uncomfortable or weird, but with him, she could do this for hours. Finally blinking herself out of her trance she rose from the couch and offered her hand to help him up.

“I’m going to brush my teeth first. I have some new toothbrushes if you’d like to as well.”

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

They brushed their teeth together, then Emma had a laugh over Killian trying without success to get the hair at the back of his head to fall correctly. He had incurable bed, or in this case, couch head. He eventually gave up with an exasperated sigh and they made their way into the kitchen. They worked in tandem to prepare the food, Killian tending to the bacon and eggs while Emma flipped pancakes. Every once in a while they would flash smiles at each other. It was so domestic and Emma was surprisingly okay with that. She still feared the panic would set in and she’d need to distance herself from him, but for now she wanted to embrace it while she could.

“Would you like to spend the day with me Killian?” she asked boldly while nibbling on some bacon. Killian looked pleasantly surprised at her request. “I mean after we both have freshened up. That hair of yours isn’t going to go back to being perfect until you’ve showered.”

“Why Swan, you think I have perfect hair?” he asked with a raise of one eyebrow.

His demeanor practically oozed sex and Emma was tempted to reach over the table and smash her mouth to his. Instead she laughed off the question.

“Please, you know you do.”

He gave her a cheeky grin. “I would be happy to accept your invitation on one condition.”

“And what’s that?”

“You let me plan the day.”

Emma paused at his request. It sounded too much like a date and she was not ready for that. But she desperately wanted to spend more time with him. She probably hesitated a bit too long because she could see his face fall.

“Agreed,” Emma blurted out. Killian’s face lit up instantly. They finished eating, cleaned up together and then Emma saw Killian to the door. “So what are we doing today?”

“It’s a surprise, although I will advise you to dress in something warm, it’ll get a bit windy, love.”

“Okay, you’ve piqued my interest. What time should I be ready?”

“Give me two hours.”

“I’ll be ready, but Killian, this isn’t a date, right?” she asked anxiously.

“No love, this is us spending the day together.” He leaned in closer to add, “When it’s a date you’ll know it.” He winked at her and bid her farewell; and Emma was left breathless.

Emma stood at her closet door, staring into the mirror that was attached, for what seemed like hours. She had tried on several outfits, finally settling on an oversized purple sweater and dark blue skinny jeans. She’d been trying to guess where he was taking her, but kept coming up empty. The knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts.

Killian greeted her with a huge toothy grin. “Are you ready for our adventure today, love?”

“Since you refuse to clue me in, I’m not sure. Do I look ready?”

He raked his eyes over her form before replying, “You look perfect.”

She could say the same thing about him. He was looking sinful in a dark blue Henley and dark, tight, but not too tight, jeans.

He held out his hand to her. “Shall we?”

She grabbed her bag and allowed him to lead her down the stairs to his car. God, he even drove a sexy car. Killian was serenading her as he sang along with the radio, and of course his singing voice was amazing. She realized they were heading toward the water and her excitement grew as Killian turned into the parking lot of the harbor.

“Sailing?” she asked hopefully.

“Aye, I want to introduce you to the other love in my life.”

Was he being flippant, or did he just admit to being in love with her? Why wasn’t she running? That idea would scare the shit out of her if it came from anyone else. She filed that thought away for now, not wanting it to ruin what was already a fantastic day.

They were making their way down the dock when he stopped in front of a beautiful sailboat. The hull of the boat was painted a rich blue-gray with dark walnut trim running along the edge of the vessel. It was about 30 feet long with an actual wheel at the helm. It didn’t fit in with all of the pristine white boats surrounding it, but it had character. Someone popped his head out from below deck and smiled as he made his way up the stairs and down the gangway.

“She’s all ready for you, little brother.”

Emma could hear Killian mumble something about younger brother, and she got the idea that this was not a one-time thing with them.

“Emma, I would like you to meet my older brother, Liam. Liam this is Emma.”

“It is a great pleasure to finally meet the famous Emma,” he said as he extended his hand. Liam was a bit taller and broader than Killian, with curly, light brown hair. His eyes were the most familial trait, a perfect match to Killian’s.

“Likewise,” she said as she took his hand.

“Alright, I’m off, you two enjoy yourselves. I don’t have to remind you to behave, do I Killy?” Killian’s ears turned red. Liam patted Killian on the back and briskly walked back to land.

“Killy?” Emma snickered into his ear.

“Okay, let’s just pretend that never happened,” he said as he scratched behind his ear. He took her hand and lead her up the gangway. “Welcome to the Rolly Joger!” Emma’s snickers got louder. “Bloody hell, I mean the Jolly Roger.”

“Jolly Roger, huh, does that mean I have to call you Captain Hook?” she asked with a smirk.

“You can call me anything you like, love,” he replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay, Captain, just don’t call me Smee and we have a deal.”

Killian cringed at the thought. After giving her a quick sailing lesson so that she could help out when needed, they launched The Jolly out to sea. “Let’s sail away, love,” Killian said as he navigated his way through the mass of other boats.

Emma watched him at the helm, his crystal blue eyes sweeping over his surroundings. The wind kicked up, making his raven hair wave from the invisible force. It was a perfect fall day, not a cloud in the sky. As they got further out to sea, Killian’s demeanor relaxed.

“Come here, Swan,” he said, holding his hand out to her. She took it and let him place her hands on the handles of the wheel. She could feel him pressed against her back and her body shuddered from the contact.

----------

Killian was in awe of Emma as she handled the Jolly with flawless precision. The wind was whipping through her golden tresses which occasionally hit him in the face, giving him a chance to take in her scent of apples and cinnamon. She smelled like a scrumptious apple pie. He stepped back to admire her form, leaning against the mizzen mast.

“Why do I get the feeling I’m being watched?” Emma asked knowingly.

“I’m just admiring the way you handle my boat.” He stepped around her and leaned against some railing so that he could see her face. Her jade eyes sparkled in the sun. She smiled at him, but said nothing. “Emma, I was hoping I could ask you something? Something about your past.” Emma stiffened a little at the question, but nodded her consent. Killian breathed a sigh of relief. “You shared that you grew up in the system, yet David is your brother. How did that familial connection happen exactly?”

“When I was 15, I ran away from my group home and decided living on the streets was safer than returning. I had to steal to eat and one day David caught me attempting to stuff poptarts in my jacket. When I noticed he had seen me do it, I dropped the poptarts and ran out of the store. He followed me and eventually caught up to me. I didn’t make it easy for him though. He asked me why I was stealing and, for some reason, I told him the truth. I’ve never trusted people easily, especially back then, but something in David’s eyes comforted me.”

Killian could see that. Everything about the man screamed honorable.

“He asked me if I wanted a hot meal. I just stood in stunned silence as he told me that he had just moved out of his mother’s house, so I could sleep in a bed as well. I was so hungry and it was freezing at night, so I allowed this strange man to lead me to his truck and drive me to his mother’s house and feed me. It turned out to be the best decision I ever made. Ruth was so kind and a really good cook. She didn’t smother me at all, said I could stay as long as I liked. So I did.”

“So the lost girl found her home at last.”

“That she did. Ruth, David, and Mary Margaret have always been there for me, even through my darkest hours. But that’s a tale for another day,” she said wiping at her slightly damp eyes.

An hour later Killian retrieved the food and drinks that Liam had left for them and they enjoyed sandwiches, picnic style on the deck of the Jolly. When the sun started to lower behind the Boston skyline, they packed away the food and Killian guided them back to the docks. He despaired having to drive her home and say goodbye, knowing that he wouldn’t see her again until the party, but he would be happy with whatever time he got with her. Emma had classes all week, and a job at the University’s police station. He’d be pretty busy as well, completing his storyboard and renting some equipment. He already had a full crew signed on to his final project.

“So, until Saturday?” Emma asked wistfully.

“Until Saturday,” Killian confirmed with a kiss to her hand.

“Goodnight, Captain,” she said with a blush.

He smiled, despite his inner turmoil. “Goodnight.”

----------

Emma had been a nervous wreck all week. She spent way more time visiting costume shops than she should have, not finding anything.

“Oh, my God Ems, I found it!” she heard Ruby scream in another aisle. “It’s at Neverland Pizza, right?”

That piqued her interest. “Yes,” she confirmed cautiously

“Eep, that is perfect!” Elsa piped in.

Emma had to see what all the fuss was about. “I am not going as a sexy pirate,” she stated as she rounded the corner.

“Nope, you’re going as a sexy Tinkerbell,” Ruby said, handing her the bag.

It really was kind of perfect. And it wasn’t too risque. David would probably be watching every man there like a hawk. She tried it on and her friends would not take no for an answer. Not that she would have said no in the first place.

“Killian Jones is a dead man,” Ruby said, eyeing her up and down.

“Yeah, cause David’s gonna murder him,” Emma quipped.

“Not before you stop his heart with that outfit,” Elsa added.

Emma blushed and finally felt the tension in her release. Tomorrow night she was going to leave Killian Jones speechless for the first time since she’d known him.

“Rubes, come on, we’re gonna be late!” Emma called from the door.

“Don’t have a fit, I’m ready,” she said exiting her room in a sexy red riding hood costume.

“Is Victor going as the big bad wolf?”

“Are you kidding? His name is Victor and he’s a doctor. Apparently, he dresses as Dr. Frankenstein every year. He’s held up at the hospital until 9, but I can’t wait to see it.”

“Alright, let’s go, she-wolf. We’re meeting everyone else at the restaurant.”

Emma took one last look at herself and gave a confident nod. They jumped into their Uber and the nerves from excitement were making her a bit queasy. She didn’t know what this was between her and Killian, but she knew that it was something big. As they pulled up they saw the rest of their party, minus one mad scientist. Mary Margaret was dressed as a modestly sexy Snow White, if that’s a thing. David, however, refused to dress as Prince Charming, but he did make a pretty cool Arthurian Knight. Graham was dressed as a cop, because he had just finished his shift. August was a cowboy of all things, but looked like he could fit in with the James Gang. Elsa was vision, dressed as the blue fairy in a shiny dress that screamed regal.

“Emma, you look amazing!” Mary Margaret squealed. David did not share her enthusiasm.

“Thanks, let’s get inside. I can’t wait to see what mystery costume Killian is wearing.”

They gave their names at the door and were immediately led into a freaking jungle. The place was made to look like Neverland at night. The ceiling resembled a canopy and the walls were covered in fake greenery.

“Emma, you made it,” said Liam from the bar. He was dressed as Peter Pan minus the dorky hat.

“Very appropriate for tonight,” she said, nodding at his costume.

“As are you, Tinkerbell. If you like this, you’re really gonna get a kick out of Killian’s.”

“I can’t wait. Guys,” she said waving her friends over, “this is Liam, Killian’s brother and co-owner of this fine establishment.”

“Why thank you, Emma.”

“Liam, this is everybody.” She introduced everyone to Liam, but when he greeted Elsa, he momentarily lost his voice. She seemed as affected as him, and the two were left to talk.

Emma was searching the crowd when a pretty brunette wearing a gorgeous medieval dress approached her enthusiastically. “Ooh, you must be Emma.”

“That’s right. I take it Killian talks about me?”

“More like, thinks about you... really loudly. But he didn’t fail to describe your beauty, as he puts it. His description was pretty spot on. I’m Belle, by the way, I work in the kitchen with him.”

“It’s nice to meet you Belle,” she said shaking her hand. “I don’t mean to be rude, but…”

“You want to see Killian,” Belle interrupted with a knowing smile.

“Yeah, I’m dying to see his costume.”

“I happen to know Killian feels the same way. And when he does see you, remind him to breathe.” Emma blushed at the praise. “He’s right over there,” she said pointing behind Emma, “in the long black jacket, currently comparing his cutlass with Robin’s bow.

Confused, Emma turned. Killian had his back to her and was indeed joking with Robin Hood. Then she saw him raise his left hand in an exaggerated gesture and spotted the shiny, silver hook. He was dressed as Captain Hook, an extremely sexy Captain Hook. She noticed him stiffen and he must have sensed her staring at him because he turned then, and holy God, he was glorious! He was clad entirely in black leather. The trousers were deliciously tight against his powerful legs. His vest only covered his abdomen, exposing a smattering of sexy chest hair. When did I become a fan of chest hair? But it was the look on his face that had her hot and bothered. At first it was shock, but then his eyes darkened as they raked up and down her scantily clad body, and the shock morphed into lust.

----------

The vision before him had him instantly feeling tighter in his trousers. He moved his eyes up her long, slender legs, particularly enjoying the intermittent sections of her creamy, smooth thighs on display. The pixie dress was low cut, exposing a fair amount of cleavage. He had seen more of her on the day they had met, but he hadn’t known her then. He sauntered up to her, trying his best to keep his composure.

“You look stunning, Swan.” He delighted in the pretty pink blush that spread from the apple of her cheeks all the way down to the swell of her breasts.

“Thank you, you look…”

“I know,” he interrupted with a smirk.

She laughed at his self confidence.

“So, this is the mysterious Emma,” Robin said, coming up from behind Killian. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, milady, I’m Robin Lockhart and that lovely creature behind the bar, micromanaging, is my wife Regina. We manage the bar, apparently even on our days off.”

“The Pleasure is all mine, Robin Hood,” Emma giggled, extending her hand. Robin took it and promptly placed a kiss on her knuckles.

“All right, Rob, maybe you should go give your wife a hand, or at least distract her so she doesn’t drive the temp workers completely crazy.”

“Will do, boss,” he said with a flourish.

“Do all British men greet women with a kiss to the hand? And that’s another thing, why are you all British? Did you all come to the states together or something?”

Killian took her hand and led her to a quieter corner of the building. “We all met at B.U. There was a foreign student club that I stumbled into one afternoon, my Freshman year, and we just kind of hit it off. Robin and I became roommates the next year and Will joined our dorm shortly thereafter. I’m sure you’ll meet him tonight, he’s the one who follows Belle around like a puppy dog. Belle is actually Australian and Regina is a Yank.”

“A Yank, is that what you would call me?” she asked teasingly

Killian leaned down so that his mouth nearly grazed the shell of her ear. “I would call you the most beautiful and sexy pixie in all the land.” He was beginning to believe that her blush may be permanent for the evening. Suddenly the music slowed and Killian seized the moment to hold Emma in his arms. “Care to dance, love?” he asked, his hand extended.

“I don’t know how.”

“Have you forgotten, Swan? I’ve seen you dance and you’re quite good.” He cocked his eyebrow at her, eliciting a chuckle.

“That was different, I was just moving to the music. I’ve never slow danced before.”

“There’s only one rule,” he said, leading her onto the dance floor. “Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.” He guided her hand up around his neck, the other following the same path. He slid his hand and hook slowly down her sides until they rested on her hips. He used the tiniest amount of pressure to encourage her to sway them as he set a slow and intimate pace. His eyes locked on hers, everyone else on the crowded dance floor seemed to disappear. She let her head fall to his shoulder as she let out a contented sigh. He never wanted this moment to end.

Just as the music started to pick back up again, he had an idea. They had set up a photo shoot with a large backdrop that featured the Jolly Roger from the cartoon.

“What better way to immortalize your first slow dance with a pirate than a photograph,” he quipped. Before she could protest, he literally swept her off her feet. Supporting her back with his hand and her legs with his hooked arm, she giggled furiously in his grasp.

“Alright you two, smile big for the camera.” Emma did as instructed, but Killian couldn’t take his eyes off of the angel in his arms. He knew in that moment that Emma Swan was the love of his life. Now, he just needed to convince her that he was hers.

As the party wound down, guests started to trickle out. Killian had convinced Emma to dance with him during every slow song, but he could see that she was tired when she yawned against him during their last dance. He desperately didn’t want to say goodnight, but the night was coming to a close. He made sure to bid farewell to all of her friends before turning his attention solely to her.

“I had a wonderful time tonight, Killian. You really know how to throw a party,” she said with a sleepy smile.

“It certainly was a night to remember, love. Sweet dreams.” He brushed his lips lightly across her knuckles and witnessed goosebumps rise along her arm.

“Goodnight, Captain,” she breathed.

Killian longingly watched her pile into an Uber.

“Hell of a woman,” Liam slapped him on the shoulder.

“Yes she is.”

----------

After Halloween, Emma didn’t see much of Killian because he had to use his weekends to start shooting his documentary. They talked every evening, sometimes pushing past midnight. She missed him so much. He had become her best friend and secretly so much more, but she wasn’t ready to admit that yet. The entire group spent Thanksgiving at Neverland, becoming fast friends. Liam and Elsa had started dating, and thankfully Killian was finished filming for the year. During their short break he would come over to her apartment and they would cuddle on the couch, bingeing on Netflix. Then one night, Killian asked her about Walsh. She told him everything without hesitation.

“Honestly, I don’t know why I was with him. I guess I was searching for normalcy, and Walsh was as normal as they came. He was a safe choice, that is until he wasn’t. He didn’t break my heart though, because I never truly gave it to him. After my first relationship ended so badly, I figured I’d never be able to give it to anyone else again.”

“Do you still feel that way?” he asked hopefully.

“No,” Emma breathed. “I don’t.”

Killian smiled, but didn’t push the subject anymore. She was worried he was going to ask about Neal, but the question never came. She was so grateful that he understood she wasn’t ready to share that sad tale yet.

The first few weeks of December were hectic while they studied for finals. Killian would still come over as often as he could, but the t.v. stayed off while they studied silently. After finals, Emma picked up extra hours at the police station so she could afford gifts. Unlike Thanksgiving, everyone would be separating to visit family. Elsa wanted Liam to meet her family, so Emma and Killian decided to have their own little Christmas. They spent Christmas eve at his home since he had a fireplace and he’d decorated the place to look like the North Pole.

----------

Killian couldn’t be happier, watching the fire burn with Emma in his arms. He loved her so much. He knew she cared for him as well, and he was a patient man, he would wait forever for her. Suddenly she spoke, and what she was saying surprised him.

“I was 17 when I met Neal. I was happy, living with Ruth and things were going well in my life. She had officially adopted me, and I was truly happy for the first time in my life. He seemed perfect, a few years older than me. Ruth didn’t like him at all, so we had to sneak around to see each other. My teenage heart fell hard and fast for him. One day he asked me to run away with him. I adamantly refused, but then he told me he was wanted for robbery. He had to leave the state. I was torn and also foolish.”

A tear slipped down Emma’s cheek and Killian used his thumb to dry the others threatening to fall.

“I agreed to grab a bag out of a locker for him, only to find out that it contained stolen watches. He placed one of the watches on my wrist and told me he loved me, and that’s when I decided that I would leave with him. But when I got to our usual meeting spot, all packed to leave, the only person that greeted me was a cop.”

“He set you up?” Killian asked, stunned. She nodded her head.

“The judge took pity on me, and since I was still a minor I was placed under house arrest for two months, only being allowed to leave for school. The hardest part was seeing the disappointment on David and Ruth’s faces. It took time, but I eventually earned back their trust.”

Now Killian understood everything. Her unwillingness to trust, David’s overprotective big brother act. She had her life nearly ruined and her heart broken all at once. It was the worst kind of betrayal. Yet he had come into her life so suddenly and she had let him. It was apparent to him now more than ever, that they were truly meant to be. He was going to prove it to her, no matter how long it took.

“Neal was a fool. When I win your heart, Emma, and I will win it, it won’t be because of any trickery, it will be because you want me.”

Emma gasped at his words. She looked at him with awe and what he hoped were similar feelings. She leaned in and pressed her lips to his. He responded instantly, moving slowly and cautiously. Her lips were silky and slightly salty from tears. It wasn’t how he imagined their first kiss, but it was perfect all the same. “I know,” she whispered against his mouth before pulling away. He held her until she fell asleep. He shifted them carefully so that his back was to the couch, and she was cradled against him. He wished he could end every night with her in his arms.

It would be weeks before Emma would kiss him again. She had to work on New Year’s Eve so he missed that golden opportunity. She understandably was not a fan of Valentine’s Day, so he treated it like any other day, until midnight when he handed her a single red rose on his way out the door and murmured, “Happy February 15th, love.” She unexpectedly grabbed his jacket collar and hauled him to her lips. It was a sharp contrast to their first kiss. Her mouth moved hard and passionately against his, her tongue sliding along his lips, demanding entrance. He groaned at the taste of her, chocolate and cinnamon. Her hands moved to the back of his head where she threaded her fingers through his hair. The kiss got his blood rushing to the point that he didn’t want to say goodnight. He pulled back regretfully as Emma chased his lips. He was breathless at first, unable to speak.

“Happy February 15th, Killian,” she said with a shy smile. “Goodnight.”

“Indeed,” was all he could say. She closed the door and he had to take a deep breath to get his bearings. She would be the death of him for sure.

Spring arrived with the chance for Killian to resume filming. He and Emma would share the occasional secret kiss, but he had yet to take her on a date. Not for lack of wanting to, but Emma had asked that they wait. He reluctantly heeded her request. He distracted himself by throwing himself into his film. He would sail his crew to the cape on weekends and get footage of the exact location that the Whydah, Black Sam’s ship, went down centuries ago. He enlisted some residents of the small coastal town as extras and even found a woman willing to play Mary Hallet, Sam’s mysterious love. It was a sad tale of woe and loss. Mary had been waiting for him to come home with enough money so that her father would give his blessing. Having accomplished his goal, he raced to the cape, only to get caught in a storm just a few hundred yards from land. Of course, the love story may have been exaggerated and is mostly considered folklore by scholars, which he mentioned in the film, but it was the story that he wanted to tell.

It was a warm April afternoon when he announced to his crew and actors that filming had wrapped. They were given a warm send-off by the locals the next day, before he made his way back to Emma. He still had a lot of post-production work to do, but at least he would see Emma at night.

Killian submitted his completed film a week before graduation. He was proud of their work, the film turned out better than he thought possible on a student budget. Since he and Emma were both graduating, Liam and the crew at Neverland threw them both a party.

“What will you do now?” Emma asked him after they had feasted on pizza.

“I suppose I will start by sending my resume to every production company that produces documentaries. What about you, love?”

“I submitted my resume to the Boston PD. I’m just waiting to hear back. I’m really nervous,” she replied shyly.

“Emma, there is no reason for you to be nervous. You have loads of experience with the University’s police department,” he started, ticking up his fingers with each accomplishment, “you’ve broken records in physical fitness training, put in voluntary hours at community events, have a high gpa, and excellent references and recommendation letters. What police department wouldn’t want you?”

She blushed at his praise. “Thank you Killian. I could say most of those things about you.”

He smiled and placed a tender kiss on her cheek. “I have a feeling, everything is going to work out for us.”

Two weeks later, Emma started work at the Boston PD and Killian was beaming with pride. He knew she could do it, his beautiful Swan. He had every intention of finally asking her out on a proper date when fate stepped in.

A few short days after Emma started training at her job, Killian got a letter in the mail from a production company he didn’t remember applying to. Authentic Entertainment never hired fresh graduates without some professional experience. When he opened the letter his heart nearly stopped.

----------

Emma had just finished a shower and was slipping on a comfortable shirt when Killian came crashing through her door.

“Emma!” he called from the kitchen.

She checked her reflection and rushed out to see what all the commotion was about. He was donning the largest smile she had ever seen, so at least it was good news. He lunged for her, picking her up and spinning them.

“Killian, what is going on?” she gasped as he set her down gently. His happiness was infectious as evidenced by the giggles escaping her mouth. He handed her the letter. “Authentic Entertainment Production Company,” she read, as realization dawned on her. “You’ve been offered a job. Killian, that’s wonderful!” she declared as she threw her arms around his neck. “Is this one of your top choices?”

“Nope, I didn’t even apply because it’s a highly respected company that only hires experienced professionals. Apparently, my professor sent them my film, without my knowledge, and they are offering me the chance to make a high budget version of it for the History Channel.”

“You were right, everything is working out for both of us. When will you begin?”

“I leave at the end of the month.”

“Leave?” she inquired, dread washing over her.

“Aye, we’re to film on location in the Caribbean. I’ve been asked to direct and act as a historical advisor.”

She visibly deflated. Then she felt Killian’s hand caress her cheek. “Emma, I don’t want to leave you, that’s the last thing I want, but this is the chance of a lifetime. If I don’t muck this up, I’ll likely have my choice of projects in the future. I’ll not have to take a job that takes me far from you without a scheduled return.”

“I know, and I would never ask you to give this up. I’ll just miss you so much. When will you come back?” She could feel hot tears begin to well up in her eyes.

“End of August, before hurricane season sets in,” he uttered remorsefully.

The tears started to fall freely now. “Three months,” she whispered shakily. He pulled her into his arms and she could feel her tears mixing with his.

“But I will come back to you Emma, I will always come back to you,” he spoke huskily against her neck.

They spent the rest of the evening together, mostly embraced in each other’s arms. The end of the month was next week so Emma planned to spend as much time with Killian as she could, before she had to give him up.

“Emma, he is leaving tomorrow, you have to tell him,” Mary Margaret stated diligently. “He deserves to know. Besides, it may motivate him to come back sooner.”

Emma had confided in her friends the night before that she was, without a doubt, in love with Killian Jones. There was no more denying it, no more excuses.

“I know. I’m taking him to the airport after my shift. I swear I’ll tell him then.”

“You better, because that man is the best thing that has ever happened to you. And he worships the ground you walk on,” Ruby added.

Emma felt her face heat up from her friend’s assurances. Killian had never explicitly confessed his love for her, but he found other adorable ways to make it known. She still felt that little bit of self-doubt stir up inside her from time to time, but she didn’t want to lose him. It was time to put on her big girl panties and face her feelings head on. She wished she could tell him tonight, but he had a lot to do to prepare for his departure, and phone calls to make. She went to bed that night with nervous butterflies flitting about in her stomach.

“Swan, you’ll be covering Spicoli’s shift tonight,” Captain Holt declared during their morning staff meeting. Emma’s stomach lurched at the news.

“No, there has to be someone else,” she panicked. “I have to take someone to the airport today.”

“Then that person will just have to find another ride. You’re still a rookie and therefore expected to fill in when someone is sick,” he stated with authority.

There was no arguing with the Captain. She struggled to keep her composure as she texted Killian the bad news. He was understandably upset about not getting to say goodbye, but also so supportive of her situation. She couldn’t tell him through text message about her feelings. No, that was something that he needed to hear in person, so she settled on telling him the instant he returned. Luckily, he didn’t have to take a cab. David offered to take him when she had texted him about her dilemma.

Later that night when she stumbled through her door, exhaustedly, she discovered her girlfriends all waiting for her with popcorn and milk duds and a slew of sappy romance movies. She lost it right there in her doorway, sobbing uncontrollably. Ruby lunged for her before she crumbled to the floor.

“It’s alright sweetie, we’re going to help you get through this,” she cooed comfortingly, tears trickling down her own cheeks. They sat on some blankets on the floor in a huddled mass, tears flowing freely from everyone. Emma fell asleep halfway through the first movie, flanked by Ruby and Elsa. In that moment she had never been more grateful for her friends, her family.

The first month was the hardest. She would talk to Killian at night when he returned to his hotel. Unfortunately, cell service was spotty at best, so they had to settle for using the landline. She missed his face, his expressive eyebrows, his smirking lips and most of all, his ocean blue eyes. He would regale her with his daily adventures. They had a reproduced 18th century pirate ship named The Lady Washington that Killian had fallen in love with at first site. She could picture him sitting in the director’s chair, no scratch that, he’d be too excited to sit, advising a surly crew of swashbucklers how to speak and act like pirates.

The second month Emma threw herself into her work, graduating the trainee program to become an official trooper. Her colleagues admired and respected her, and she was no longer the rookie. Her partner, Jefferson, was quirky, possibly slightly mad, but the harmless type. She visited Liam and the Neverland crew often. One of those evenings, Liam approached her with an interesting question.

“Emma, you know Elsa better than anyone,” he said nervously. “What kind of… jewelry does she like?”

“You can’t go wrong with a princess cut,” she answered knowingly. He blushed and she assured him, his secret was safe with her.

The third month had finally arrived. Killian’s crew had traveled to Jamaica to get some town shots so he was able to FaceTime her for the evening. She awaited the call anxiously, checking the mirror countless times to make sure she didn’t have anything hanging out of her nose or something in her teeth. Then the call came.

“Hello, beautiful,” he greeted with an elated smile.

“Hello, handsome.”

“I prefer devilishly handsome.”

Emma giggled at his quip. His hair had gotten shaggier and his scruff just a titch longer. He had a sunkissed tan that gave him a ruggedness that was outright sinful. No man had a right to be that sexy.

“How was your day? Arrest any thugs?”

“Or pirates?”

“Touche, you can arrest me anytime you’d like when I get back, Swan,” he said with a wink.

“Just give me a reason.” His eyes darkened the moment the words left her lips.

“Challenge accepted, love.”

“Please, you couldn’t handle it,” she teased.

“Perhaps you are the one who couldn’t handle it.” He popped the “t” in a way that made it feel lewd. Her abdomen coiled tightly as her body responded to his words.

All she wanted to do in that moment was pull him forcefully to her lips and claim his mouth. She thought about their second kiss, the fact that he knew how to use that sinful tongue of his. She thought about him lavishing her entire body with the damn thing.

“Love, are you alright? Where did you go just now?”

She snapped herself out of her fantasy and greeted his lustful eyes and smirk. He knew, the bastard knew exactly where she had gone.

“I’m fine,” she answered a little too high pitched for her liking. He licked his bottom lip lasciviously and gave a slight nod to indicate he was finished torturing her, for now.

The rest of the conversation revolved around schedules and planned shoots. If they stayed on schedule he would be returning on August 24th, a day she promptly marked on her calendar. After an extended yawn from her, he insisted that she get some sleep. She was reluctant to hang up.

“I miss you, Emma,” he declared with the same yearning look and doey eyes that Regina had pointed out to her. She was sure her face reflected his.

“I miss you too, so much Killian. Come back to me, come home.” It wasn’t a plea for him to drop everything and race home. It was meant to be a reminder of his promise.

“I will, my love, as sure as the sun rises, I’ll come back to you, always. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, my devilishly handsome pirate,” she said with a watery chuckle.

He ended the call with a smile that stuck in her mind and inspired dreams of their reunion.

Emma and Jefferson arrived at the station with a very disgruntled perp. He had been caught smashing out car windows in covered parking lots.

“Nice work guys, we’ve been looking for this one for a long time,” the Captain noted.

“It was all Emma, Cap. She spotted him and ran the guy down in a matter of minutes.”

“Swan, in my office please.”

Emma was nervous. The Captain had never called her into his office before. However, few things could get her down today. Killian was scheduled to come home any day now. They just needed a few more shots.

“Don’t worry, Swan, I didn’t call you in here to berate you about anything.” Emma let out an audible sigh. “I actually wanted to discuss your career path. Where do you see yourself five years from now?”

Killian’s face as well as a house near the waterfront flashed through her mind. But the Captain certainly wasn’t asking about her personal life.

“I see myself here, working a case as a detective.”

“Those are some high aspirations, but I do believe you’ve got what it takes.” He nodded, indicating that the meeting was over.

When her shift ended she rushed home, anxious to hear if Killian was coming home. She’d been on edge since their last call when he told her that any sailor worth his salt knows when a storm is brewing. She immediately turned on the Weather Channel only to see that Killian was right. Not just any storm, but a hurricane. The last time she had checked, their location in the Caribbean was not in the path of the monster.

When she managed to make it home, Ruby already had the Weather Channel on. Ruby turned to her, and the look on her face made Emma’s heart sink.

“Ruby,” Emma started cautiously, “please tell me everything is fine.”

“I can’t. The storm changed course Emma. It’s projected to hit Santo Domingo head on and very soon.”

Killian’s current location was only fifty miles from the capital city.

“It’s only five-thirty, what if they’re still out on the water?” Her words were laced with panic and fear.

Ruby couldn’t do anything except pull her into a protective hug. “Killian is a masterful sailor, he’s smart and resourceful. If they are on the water when it hits, he’ll know what has to be done to get them through it. Nothing, not even mother fucking nature, can stop him from getting back to you,” she spoke adamantly.

Emma nodded, then followed Ruby to the couch where they continued to watch images of trees being whipped every which way. The sight of the waves on the beach made her blanch. Concern was building inside her with every minute that went by without a phone call. Friends and family were trickling in as night fell, but Emma hadn’t noticed. She was in a fear induced trance. The hurricane was battering Santo Domingo and everything within a one hundred mile radius. Mary Margaret squeezed her hand, momentarily breaking her out of the haze.

“He’ll be alright, Emma, he always struck me as the survivor type.”

“It’s true.”

Emma jumped at the accented voice. When did Liam get here?

“When Killian was 16 he acquired a job on a fishing boat. They would go out on weekends and I would always worry for him. My fears proved warranted when they sailed right into a squall. The boat’s engine was damaged by floating debris as it rocked back and forth violently. Killian was small enough to climb under the fallen articles to repair the engine.”

“He knew how to do that?” Elsa interrupted.

“Aye, Killian has always been curious about how things work, and in the past had taken our car’s engine apart just to see if he could put it back together again.” Unshed tears threatened to fall as Liam continued to reminisce. “I was so angry with him, sure that he had broken the car. Of course, I turned the key and the thing ran beautifully, and you can imagine the smug smile he gave me.” Everyone chuckled because they’d all been on the receiving end of the smug grin. “Anyway, my point being, Killian fixed the engine and saved the lives of every soul on board, in the worst conditions, just like he’ll do again, because he is a survivor.”

Emma grasped Liam’s arm. “Thank you, Liam. He never told me about that.”

“That’s because my brother is too humble to brag about it.” Liam pulled Emma in for a bear hug that she didn’t know she needed. Emma desperately wished she was in Killian’s arms at the moment. “I also came by to bring you this.” He handed her a large envelope. “I was supposed to give it to Killian months ago, but I misplaced it and Elsa is the one who found it when she was helping me clean the office. I’m really sorry, Emma,” he said sheepishly.

Emma opened the envelope and out slid an 8 by 10 inch photo of her and Killian from the night of the costume party. Her sharp intake of breath was followed by a shaky sigh. She remembered Killian holding her bridal style, but she figured he had smiled at the camera, but there he was lovingly staring at her, smiling at her.

“Thank you, Liam,” she said on a choked sob. She placed the photo back in its envelope, vowing to only view it again when she could share it with Killian.

Someone was always with Emma during the waiting period. It had been nearly 24 hours since the category four hurricane hit land. The weather channel continued to report on the damage that Patty had inflicted.

Emma just stared into the blasted box, unaware that another day had gone by. She had called in to work to tell them she would be taking her paid vacation days until she heard from Killian. If she heard from Killian. Mary Margaret had begged her not to think like that, but it was getting harder with each passing day.

Emma was a mess by the fourth day. Mary Margaret, Ruby, and Belle were cleaning up after dinner when they heard her mumble something.

“What did you say, honey?” Ruby asked, grabbing her hand.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” she choked out.

“No Emma, don’t.” Ruby placed her hands on each side of Emma’s head. “Keep in mind that most of that area doesn’t have electricity yet. He’s probably having trouble locating a satellite phone. He’ll call, don’t stop believing in him.”

“And if he doesn’t? God, I never even told him I love him.” Moisture was streaming down her tear stained cheeks. “And now I may never get that chance.” Her body heaved with each cry of anguish. “He’ll never know… he’ll never know,” she repeated until words were impossible to form.

Ruby laid her down on the couch, begging her to get some sleep. What a foreign concept sleep had become. She’d had none since the night before the hurricane. She must have passed out because the next thing she knew it was dark outside.

“It’s just past eight,” Mary Margaret informed her.

Suddenly her phone rang, awakening some hope in her. She looked at the foreign number lit up across her screen. Any other day she would decline, but she was desperate. What if Killian had found a satellite phone after all. The dread Emma felt at the thought of someone calling to inform her Killian had died made her want to vomit. But she had to take that chance. On a shaky breath, she answered.

“Hello?”

“Swan.”

One word. One single word had flipped her whole world right side up in that instant.

“Killian,” she sobbed. The water works were flowing now. Mary Margaret dropped what she was doing to join Emma’s side.

“Aye, I’m sorry it took so long to contact you.” He sounded breathless and a little shaken. “We were caught in the storm. The Lady will need some repair work, but we all made it.”

“That’s wonderful news. Do you know when you’ll be able to come home?”

“I’m afraid the airport won’t be an option for weeks, but I’ll secure passage on a cruise ship if I have to. I made you a promise and I intend to keep it, love.”

“Good,” was all Emma could say in that moment. He had to give up the phone so the rest of the crew could call their families, but he promised to call as soon as he had an exit plan. Emma suddenly felt hungry, starving actually. She ate some delicious leftovers that Mary Margaret had made the day before and then she felt the overwhelming need to sleep. Sleep away all the agony, all the pain.

Killian called two days later with news that he was boarding a cruise ship bound for Boston. They would be making some stops along the way to drop survivors off at different ports. With the airport out of commission, cruise companies were offering services to people who needed to get back to the states. It’d take eight days, but Killian was finally on his way back to her.

“Are you ready for this?” Ruby asked her the morning of Killian’s arrival.

“As ready as I’ll ever be. I’m supposed to be at the the Boston Cruise Terminal by six o’ clock.”

“Well, I’m staying at Victor’s place tonight if you wanna, you know, bring him back here and have your wicked way with him,” she winked, and Emma’s stomach flipped.

“He’s probably going to be exhausted, Rubes.”

“Oh, right, from all that lounging by the pool and eating delicious food.”

Emma chuckled at the image of Killian doing those things, because that’s not what he would be doing at all. He would probably buddy up with the Captain and get inside the helm.

“Anyway, sweetie, the place is all yours. I packed enough for two days so don’t worry about any interruptions.”

“Ruby, he has a brother he probably wants to see. I’m not gonna trap him in here for a two day sex marathon.”

“Whatever you say, Emma… bye,” she chortled as she shut the door.

Emma paced outside the cruise terminal, choosing to stay clear of the large crowd of people who had come to pick up their loved ones. She anxiously watched as one by one passengers exited the building. Sounds of joy and relief filled the area. Then she saw it, a shock of black hair as he whipped it out of his face. And then she ran to him.

----------

The moment his eyes met hers all instinct to breathe was forgotten. He dropped his bag and awaited her embrace as she ran to him. She leapt into his arms, legs wrapped securely around him as her arms looped around his head. He could feel wetness against his neck as his own tears of joy rose to the surface.

“You’re really here, you came back to me,” she murmured against his neck.

“Did you ever doubt I would?”

She pulled away to bring their foreheads together. “Truthfully, the hurricane gave me pause.” She backed her head up just enough so her eyes were on his. “I love you, Killian, so much.”

She punctuated her declaration with a searing kiss that had Killian feeling weightless, even with her body still wrapped around his. Her lips were just as soft, just as supple as he remembered. He groaned with pleasure when her tongue slipped in, frantically tasting all of him. She moaned when he nibbled on her bottom lip and that’s when they heard a cough. He reluctantly released Emma’s kiss swollen lips as she unwound her legs. Flushed and slightly breathless, Killian tilted Emma’s chin up so their gazes met again.

“I’ve been in love with you, Emma, since the night we met.” She let out a watery chuckle at Killian’s admission. “How about we go somewhere with a little more privacy, love?” he asked, realizing they now had an audience.

“I’d like that.”

Emma contacted an Uber that mercifully was right around the corner from the terminal. Once inside the car, he called Liam to let him know he’d made it home, well, in the metaphorical sense anyway. They agreed to meet at Neverland for a welcome home beer the following night. He couldn’t wait to get Emma alone, where he intended to shower her with his affections. His need for her grew stronger the closer they got to their destination. Emma had given the driver her address, and with any luck, Killian hoped Ruby would be gone for the evening.

The car pulled up to Emma’s place and she nearly pulled his arm out of its socket when she yanked him out of the car with her. “Someone’s eager,” he murmured against the shell of her ear.

“And you love me for it.”

She slammed the door shut and assisted with carrying his bags up the four flights of stairs. They were nearly out of breath when they finally reached her door, but Killian had no intentions of letting a little thing like oxygen, or lack of, ruin his plan to resume what they had started. He longed to feel Emma’s strong legs wrapped around him again. She pushed open the door, and after throwing his bag on the ground, he whipped Emma around, slamming his body into hers as he claimed her lips once more. He backed her up until she was flat against the door. His right hand flew to her golden tresses while his left trailed down her side, making her shiver.

Her hands had found their way into his hair, raking her fingers through it. Their tongues danced around each other, moving in a practiced rhythm like they had done this for years. He pulled away only for sheer need of air, breathing in between wet kisses he was peppering down her neck. Emma let out a delicious moan that shot straight to his throbbing cock when he hit her pulse point, so naturally, he doubled his efforts.

“Killian,” she whined. “Wait.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. Was it possible Emma didn’t want the same thing? He cautiously met her gaze, but found her eyes filled with lust and want. Now he was really confused.

“I sort of, had a plan,” she explained coyly.

“Aye?”

“I need you to take off everything except your underwear and wait here.” He cocked his brow and felt his arousal build when she mirrored his expression. He desperately wanted to peel her out of her clothing, but his curiosity won out.

“Alright, Swan, I’ll play along,” he leered at her. “Just don’t be long,” he leaned in and grazed her ear with his nose, “or I may have to start without you.” He watched her slender neck as she swallowed hard at his assertion. She turned without saying anything and retreated to her bedroom. Moving quickly, he pulled off his shirt and it threw aside, then worked on his belt and gingerly slid his pants over his aching erection. He now stood clothed only in his blue boxers, decorated with little black anchors.

Suddenly he heard a heartbeat, then another, Emma’s plan becoming clear to him when the beginning chords of Feel Again started blasting through her speaker. Then the object of his affection stepped out of her room, clad only in that same alluring red lace bra and panty set. He moved to lunge for her, but she held up a finger to stop him. Then she began swaying her hips and twirling, and that same finger crooked in a come hither motion. His Swan wasn’t the only one who could cut a move in their knickers. He shook his hips to the beat and threw in some fancy footwork like a discount Bruno Mars. Emma was beaming at him by the time they reached one another. He leaned in to kiss her, but she turned suddenly and he growled at the sensation of her supple ass rubbing relentlessly along his length. She threw herself into a bent position as she continued to dry hump him with her barely covered backside, driving him mad with desire. Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore, she righted herself and spun back to his front.

“You’re a bloody marvel,” he uttered in a gravelly voice.

“I know.”

He captured her lips in a passionate, needy kiss. She responded with the same white hot fervor. He moved his hands to her hips and hoisted her up, loving the feel of her, once again, wrapped around him. He carried her to her bedroom, all the while having to endure the sweet torture of her tongue lavishing his pulse point, giving him a pretty good idea of what she could do with that devilish muscle elsewhere. She nipped at his earlobe, nearly sending both of them crashing to the ground.

“Minx,” he huffed, finally reaching his destination.

Killian had seen many beautiful sights in his life, three different oceans, the English countryside, but none compared to the beauty of Emma Swan splayed out on her bed after he had unceremoniously thrown her onto it. Her pale skin flushed down to the swell of her still covered breasts. The teasing manner in which she ran her hand down her neck, over her heaving breast and along her taut stomach. The same path Killian wanted to follow with his tongue, only not stopping at the hem of her panties.

“Killian... I need you.”

Her plea snapped him out of his reverie, and he heeded her request. He climbed onto the bed like a predator stalking its prey. When he came face to face with her, it was as if time stood still. She gazed at him with such love and sincerity, striking him witless.

“I love you,” she breathed. “I love you so damn much.”

He brushed the pad of his thumb across the apple of her cheek. “And I love you, Emma, to the end of the world or time.”

When he kissed her then, it was unhurried and with a need to convey the depth of his love for her. The gentle caress of Emma’s lips, the woman who had given her heart to him, truly, shook him to his core. She was his, finally, and he was hers. That thought reignited the flame, his need for her growing. She responded by rutting her hips against his groin, coaxing a guttural groan from him. Moving his mouth to her neck, he reached around her arched back and unhooked her bra. He’d be pretty impressed with his work if he wasn’t so far gone. He threw the offending material off the bed and gazed upon her newly revealed flesh. Her perfect pink nipples were already pebbled, anticipating his next move. He would taste them, but first he needed to return his attention to her neck, dead set on following the path Emma had previously drawn for him. Like a pirate, seeking buried treasure. His hand, however, wandered down the expanse of her body and slipped into her knickers. What he found there had him cursing.

“Fuck… so wet and ready for me, darling,” he hissed into her neck. He retracted his hand, delighting in the little whimper of protest he heard leave Emma’s lips. He needed that hand if he was going to properly worship his Swan.

He moved lower, teeth nipping at her collar bone. Emma was writhing under his ministrations, but he needed more from her. He needed to hear her cry out for him. He reached the swell of her breast, his hunger for her increasing. He traced a slow circle around her pebbled flesh then took it into his mouth, sucking gently.

“Fuck!”

He smiled against her, intermittently flicking the bud with his tongue and sucking it into a stiff peak. He diverted from the map only to show her other breast the same attention, then lowered himself to place hot, wet kisses across her belly. Emma’s breathing became rapid when he traced the hem of her panties with his tongue. Killian met her hazed eyes, looking for any sign that she didn’t want this. Finding none, he hooked his finger under her panties and tugged them off, throwing them to join her bra. He had found where “x” marked the spot, now he just had to do a little digging. Killian urged her legs further apart as he inhaled the overwhelming scent of her arousal. Without warning, he licked one long stripe with the flat of his tongue from her entrance to her clit, eliciting a yelp from Emma. Her taste was intoxicating, surely likened to ambrosia. He returned his tongue to her clit, flicking it wildly then taking it into his mouth and sucking hard.

“Oh, God, Killian… yes!” she screamed, rolling her hips and panting erratically.

He devoured her like a man starved. Tracing circles around her swollen nub, swirling her bundle of nerves. He pushed one finger into her slick heat, earning him a moan from above. Then another as he continued to lave and suck on her, lapping up her juices. He relentlessly plunged his fingers into her, searching for that spot that would trigger her first orgasm. He knew he’d found it when Emma’s body convulsed. The tell tell sign of her inner muscles fluttering around his fingers told him she was close. He sucked hard on her clit, using his teeth as extra stimulation and then he heard Emma cry out as she pulsed around him. He gently eased her down from her high, giving her sensitive flesh one last good lick before kissing his way back up her body.

“I need you now, Killian, please, make love to me,” she begged on a heavy sigh. Killian was all too willing to oblige.

“Condoms?”

Emma met his eyes. “I’m protected and I… I trust you. I want to feel you, Killian, all of you.”

A puff of air escaped his mouth. Emma would never stop surprising him, and his love for her would truly never stop growing. He leaned in to place a gentle kiss to each cheek, her nose, and then brushed a chaste kiss to her lips. When he pulled away her eyes fluttered open, confusion etched in her features.

“I love you,” he kissed her again. “I love you,” another kiss, with more heat. “I love you,” he muttered against her mouth.

“I love you too,” she laughed against his lips.

The kiss morphed into a heated tangle of tongues. Any self-control Killian once possessed had evaporated with her words. She held him in the cradle of her thighs, his cock sliding through her slick folds, causing him to see stars. She snaked her hand down her body and grasped his throbbing length, lining him up with her entrance. He sank into her slowly, his eyes never leaving hers as he felt her walls envelop him, the sensation sending a shock up his spine. He shuddered when he was fully seated. Emma let out a satisfied moan and rolled her hips, encouraging him to move. He pulled almost completely out then slammed back in, eliciting a much louder moan. He set a rapid pace, studying Emma’s reaction to every thrust. Emma’s cries of ecstasy and the scrape of her nails along his back had him teetering on the edge. He was getting close and he needed Emma to get there too. He angled his hips a little higher and she gasped on his next surge forward.

“Yes, Killian, right there, don’t stop!”

“Never.” He doubled his efforts, savoring Emma’s cries of pleasure. The sound of skin slapping skin urging him on. “Come for me, my love. Come around me and take me with you.”

That was all it took. He barely had any warning before Emma screamed with pleasure and clenched hard around him. His thrusts became erratic as he chased his release. The pressure at the base of his spine was too much and he came with a shout into Emma’s damp neck. She cradled his head, running her fingers through his hair as he caught his breath. He slipped out of her and rolled to his side to take in the beautiful sight currently coming down from orgasmic bliss.

----------

Emma’s body was both limp and electrified. She turned her head to find Killian staring at her.

“What?”

“I’m just taking a mental picture, love.”

Picture. For some reason she couldn’t wait a second longer to show Killian the photo that Liam had given her. She leapt out of bed, much to Killian’s surprise and delight.

“Should I be worried, love?” he called to her as she ran into the the front room completely naked. She retrieved the envelope from a small desk on the far end of the room and hurried back, jumping into bed. “What has you so exhilarated, Swan?” he asked on a laugh. He had risen to a sitting position now, back against the headboard.

“I wanted to show you this. Liam dropped it off when we were waiting to hear from you and I looked at it just once, but it didn’t seem right to see it again without you,” she said with a watery chuckle. She handed him the photo and a broad smile lit up his face.

“Do you know Emma, that in the very moment this photo was taken, I realized you were the love of my life. I knew then that you were it for me, and I made a vow to do everything in my power to encourage you to have those same feelings for me one day. Even if it took a lifetime.”

The raw emotion in Killian’s confession made Emma’s heart burst. She couldn’t help the tears of pure joy that were welling in her eyes. Nothing she could say could express what she was feeling in that moment so instead she expressed them with action. She took the photo from his hands and lovingly placed it on her nightstand then climbed into his lap and kissed him with everything she had. She could feel him growing hard against her still wet core. He gave a groan of approval as she rolled her hips into his again and again, each time with more vigor. He flipped them so that Emma was on her back, his cock sliding maddeningly through her slick folds. But this time, Emma wanted to take control. She rolled them quite forcefully so she was once again on top. Killian made no sound of protest as he ogled her breasts on full display, but just out of reach.

“You see Killian, I’m a woman of action. I’ve never been any good with expressing my feelings through fancy words like you. So I’m going to show you that I,” she leaned down to place a quick kiss to his lips, “feel,” a second kiss to his neck, earning her a growl, “exactly,” a third kiss to his chest, “the,” a fourth kiss to his navel, his breathing kicking up a notch, “same.” She kissed the tip of his hard cock, licking the precum that had spread across her lips. “Mmm,” she moaned and he gave a pained groan. Showing him the tiniest of mercies, she licked around his belled tip causing him to grip her hair ever so gently, pleading for more. She took him fully into her mouth and relished the animalistic growl that flew from his mouth. The taste of their combined essence drove her mad with want. She bobbed her head, licking every last inch of him. It was when his tip hit the back of her throat that Killian finally found his words.

“Emma…” he pleaded. “Please, I need to be to be inside you, love. I don’t wish to come this way, not this time anyway.”

She released him with a wet pop and a self satisfied smirk graced her lips. As he fought to gain his composure, she climbed on top of his lap and sank onto his throbbing cock. They both let out sighs of relief at being joined once more. After a moment, Emma began rocking her hips, loving the little grunts and groans she could draw from his pretty mouth. Once she started lifting her hips in a swift motion, Killian watched in awe as her breasts bounced with every strenuous thrust. He suddenly sat up, changing the angle and making Emma gasp in ecstasy. He pulled a nipple into his mouth and sucked arduously, adding to the tightening swirl in his abdomen that she knew would burst at any moment.

“I love you, Emma, you’re my true love, nothing will ever change that,” he gasped out against her neck. Emma felt the floodgates break as her body shook from the most intense orgasm of her life. She came on a silent scream, Killian wasn’t far behind her as he emptied himself inside her. They both fell to the bed, a sweaty and sated mess of tangled limbs.

Neither one could move much after Emma managed to roll herself off of her boyfriend. Killian quickly pulled her to him so her back fit snugly to his chest. After catching their breath, Killian started placing soft kisses to the back of her neck and shoulder. What he said next shook her to her very core.

“Move in with me.” It was phrased not quite like a question and she wasn’t sure if it was the post coital bliss that made him say it. Then he spoke again. “Marry me.” Again, it didn’t sound like a request, but Emma knew Killian would never force her into anything that would make her uncomfortable. “Make babies with me,” was his last plea that had Emma rolling over to meet his hopeful gaze. She could see the sincerity in his face and a hint of fear that he may have overstepped his bounds. Emma thought back to that time when Captain Holt had asked her where she saw herself in five years. The first images that popped into her head were of her and Killian living a blissfully happy life in a beautiful home, and now the image of staring lovingly at a precious baby in her arms was a part of Emma’s fantasy future that she desperately wanted.

She pulled Killian’s face to hers and kissed him lightly before declaring, “Yes.” Then she rolled herself on top of him and placed another soft, but sincere kiss to his lips before another yes slipped out. By now Killian was smiling widely, all fear and insecurity wiped from his features. The third yes came with a more passionate kiss, a promise that she wanted everything with him, forever.

They made love one last time that evening, before succumbing to exhaustion. As Emma laid in Killian’s arms, sleep not far from claiming her, she realised that Killian Jones had truly made her feel again. Feel everything that she feared she never would again. He made her heart beat fully for the first time in her entire life, and she planned to never lose that feeling again; she had faith that Killian would never, ever let her not Feel Again.

#ffcs 2018 #fallforcs #fall for captain swan #blinddate with a fanfic #cs ff #cs au #simpleshade #feel again

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