#have some free time and I want to finally finish the Neige story

[a-local-idiots-shitpost]

I hate looking for typos

[one-true-fangirl]

Uncle Sin

A little late on posting even though I was done. Sorry about that. This is for @magibb Enjoy!

Rated: T Pairing: Sinja [SinbadXJafar] Summary:  All this time Jafar believed Sinbad was just an egotistical playboy. Until he brought a surprise to the office. WC: 6187

Sinbad was many things. A flirt, womanizer, manipulator, alcoholic. Well this was all Jafar listed himself since he knew the man. But he was a damn good worker in the office and is probably the only reason this company was still running. Not that he’d admit it out loud. Egotistical was another word he forgot to add to the list. The biggest annoyance he had against Sinbad was for some damn reason, he wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Hey Jafar!”

Jafar groaned walking faster. It was time to go home and he was actually getting out on time for once. Now that he thought about it, that was weird. He usually had to stay behind after hours to finish up work Sinbad would do last minute.

“Hey, I was calling you!” Sinbad caught up placing a hand on Jafar’s shoulder. He never respected personal space! “You doing anything-?”

“No.” Jafar shrugged off the other’s hand. If it was only that easy to make Sinbad go away.

“So…You’re free then?” Sinbad continued being persistent smiling at Jafar.

“Yes, but I’m not doing anything with you.” He clarified. Maybe he should try to file for sexual harassment. If only his pride would let him.

“Oh come on. You should at least give me chance. I know of a nice little restaurant we can go to.” Sinbad’s phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket. He quickly took it out reading what Jafar’s assumed was a text message. “Guess I’ll have to reschedule our date.”

“I never agreed.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow Jafar.” He winked before sprinting out of the building.

Jafar couldn’t help but be curious. What would make Sinbad actually run out like that?

“He’s been acting weird for awhile now hasn’t he?” Hinahoho commented coming out of his office locking it.

“Has he?”

“I would think you’d notice the most. You’re always around him.”

“More like he won’t leave me alone.” Jafar huffed as Hinahoho laughed.

“Well let’s see. He’s been doing all his work on time,” he began counting with his fingers. “he no longer stays late unless we really need him, hardly goes out on business trips anymore, and he barely goes out for a drink now. And when he does he doesn’t stay as late nor does he invite anyone home.”

Now that really was weird. Now that he thought about it Sinbad was more…assertive lately. “Maybe he’s finally maturing.”

“Weird time to start.” Jafar couldn’t help but think the other was just upset because Sinbad was his drinking buddy. “This started about five months ago when he was suddenly gone for a week.”

“I wonder if something major happened during that time then.” It was a sudden leave. That week was…very quiet.

“You do care.”

“Not even close.” Jafar couldn’t help but turn light red as they finally made it to the door. “Waiting for Rurumu?”

“Of course. She’s my ride.” Hinahoho laughed.

“She’s your wife.” Jafar corrected. “Tell her I said good night.”

“Will do.”

♦♦♦

           Sinbad really was many things. But sometimes he just liked to surprise everyone. Like this morning. He was late. Happens to all of them really but that wasn’t the surprising part. It was when he ran in late that everyone was surprised.

           “…Sinbad…who’s that?” Drakon finally spoke up pointing at the sleepy child Sinbad was holding.

           Sinbad tried to straighten himself out but he ran the whole way while carrying the child. “This…this is Aladdin. His babysitter cancelled on me.” He cleared his throat. “I know this isn’t work appropriate, but I couldn’t find a place for him to stay.” Big blue eyes stared at everyone before the boy hid his face against Sinbad’s chest.

           “Is he…?”

           “It’s a long story. I promise I’ll get all my work done and he’ll behave. It’ll be just for today.” He was practically begging. Something Sinbad never did.

           “I suppose that’s fine.” Drakon agreed. What else could he really say? He also worked under Sinbad why was he asking permission?

           “Thank you.” Sinbad sighed relieved before lifting Aladdin a bit in his arms. “Come on buddy. You can color while I work.

           Aladdin looked up at Sinbad and nodded as he walked to his office.

           "Sinbad is…a father?“ Pisti asked once he was gone.

"I don’t know.” Sharrkan wasn’t sure what just happened.

“I didn’t even know.” Hinahoho felt offended. Weren’t they best friends?!

Rurumu watched the group bicker as she remained quiet. She knew. She was the only one who knew. That’s how Sinbad was able to get that week off suddenly a couple months back. Sinbad begged her not to tell. Not because he was ashamed, he loved Aladdin. He just didn’t want pity on the boy. She looked over noticing Jafar was quiet staring at the door Sinbad once stood. Seems he was curious about the whole thing too.

♦♦♦

“Sorry I forgot your coloring book.” Sinbad apologized giving Aladdin some blank papers to use his crayons on.

“It okay!” Aladdin grabbed the blue crayon. “I can draw! I’ll draw you!” He was about to use the blue crayon but stopped himself with a look of hard concentration. He put it down grabbing the purple one instead and began drawing.

“Looks like someone is going to grow up an artist.” Sinbad smiled patting his head before heading for his desk. Okay no messing around today. Actually, since he adopted Aladdin, he hasn’t been messing around much. He’s been getting his work done early to go home to Aladdin. Sinbad picked up some papers before frowning. “Shoot…I forgot the documents are still with Drakon.” He stood up. “Aladdin stay here okay? I have to go get some stuff real quick.”

“Okay.” Aladdin agreed still drawing.

Sinbad smiled knowing Aladdin would listen before leaving to pick up his work…hopefully they didn’t ask questions. He really wasn’t ready to talk about this right now.

Aladdin just kept coloring sticking his tongue out in concentration. This was going to be his best picture yet!

“Sinbad I need you to-” Jafar stopped when he realized the other was missing. He looked over seeing Aladdin stare back. Aladdin quickly panicked dropping his crayon and running behind the couch in Sinbad’s office. “Oh I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” Jafar kneeled down not wanting Aladdin to feel threaten by him. Despite what others believed, Jafar was a softy. Especially to children. “What’s your name?”

Aladdin fidget a bit looking down. “…Aladdin.”

“Hi Aladdin. I’m Jafar.”

“…hi.” Aladdin still didn’t look up.

Jafar frowned noticing he wasn’t getting anywhere with him. He looked over at the table noticing the drawing. “Is that Sinbad?”

Aladdin finally looked up when Jafar mentioned his drawing and nodded.

“You’re really good. Though you forgot that little hair he has that sticks up all the time.” Jafar made a motion with his finger on his head.

Aladdin gasped running back to the table to look at his drawing. “I did!” He quickly fixed the problem before continuing to draw.

“Does Sinbad take care of you?” Jafar couldn’t help but ask. He was curious like everyone else.

“Uh-huh. He promised mommy. Uncle Sinbad is really nice. Mommy said he’ll take good care of me.”

“Your mommy?”

“Yeah! Uncle Sinbad was always helping out mommy! She was sick a lot and Sinbad was our…nay…neig-…” Aladdin scrunched his eyebrows trying to remember the word.

“Neighbor?” Jafar helped him out.

Aladdin smiled. “Yeah! He lived in front of our room! And even when uncle Sinbad moved away. He visited all the time to play and help mommy!" 

Jafar wanted to ask. He wanted to know what happened to his mother. Before he could ask though he was interrupted.

"Jafar?” Sinbad was surprise to see the other here. Especially kneeled down near Aladdin who was still drawing. He was very shy boy. How did he warm up to Jafar already? Not to mention Jafar was strictly business all the time. Was he here because of Aladdin?

“Oh Sinbad.” Jafar stood up dusting himself off. “I needed these documents signed but you weren’t here.

"Sorry I had to get something from Drakon. I’ll get those signed right away.” He walked around to his desk.

Jafar nodded looking one last time at Aladdin before walking over to get everything signed. “….never saw you as a father figure.”

“Neither did I.” Sinbad chuckled as he signed. “Maybe you should get to know me better.” He winked at the other.

“I don’t think so.” Well Sinbad was definitely still the same. No way he was actually a good father-

Aladdin suddenly sneezed alerting Sinbad. He stood up grabbing a tissue. “Bless you Aladdin. You got some sniffles?”

Aladdin sniffed a bit nodding.

“Alright blow.” Sinbad held the tissue in front of Aladdin’s nose as the boy did what he was told. He cleaned him up before tossing the used tissue. “Want some grapes?”

“Yes please.”

“Look at that. Using the word please like a pro.” Aladdin giggled as that as Sinbad reached for the box of grapes. “Don’t eat too many okay.”

Aladdin instantly grabbed a handful putting them in his mouth. “Okay. Thank you.”

“No talking with your mouth full.” He smiled when he received a nod from Aladdin before going back to his desk. “Sorry about that. I’ll finish signing now.”

“That’s…alright.” Jafar was still stunned at what he just saw. Sinbad was a wonderful caretaker. He didn’t even know this side of Sinbad existed.

♦♦♦

Jafar couldn’t help but think about what he just saw the whole time he was working. Sinbad was a kind man. Despite all that stupid flirting he did. All this time he thought Sinbad was just an idiot.

He didn’t see the other again until lunch when he went into the break room. He noticed Sinbad helping Aladdin with his food by cutting it for him.

“Don’t eat too fast.”

“Okay!”

“You’re not drooling already are you.”

“No!” Aladdin grabbed a napkin wiping his mouth just in case.

“I was just kidding.” Sinbad laughed putting down the knife.

“You meanie.” Aladdin pouted.

“Am I? Am I a big ol’ meanie?” Sinbad tickled the other making Aladdin giggle again.

Everyone in the break room just stared since this side of Sinbad was new to everybody. They still wanted to know why Aladdin was in his custody.

Once Aladdin stopped laughing he looked over seeing Jafar. He jumped off his chair grabbing a piece of paper from the table before running towards him. “Look! Look!” He got on his top toes showing Jafar the picture. “I finished!”

Jafar didn’t think Aladdin wanted to show him the picture. Though he still kneeled down for him to get a better look. His knees were probably going to be sore by the end of the day. “You did?”

“Yeah.” Aladdin began to point at the picture. “I drew Sinbad here. Then me. And I drew you too because you helped me with my drawing. I made you green.” Sure enough there was three figures. Purple for Sinbad, green for Jafar, and blue for Aladdin.

“That’s very lovely Aladdin.” Jafar smiled at the picture. He noticed another figure in the corner. “Who’s this pink one here?”

“That’s mommy. She’s watching over us.” Aladdin looked back at his picture. “She’s an angel because she’s in heaven.”

Jafar’s eyes widen looking at Sinbad who just stared at his food. What exactly was happening? His mother past away?

Aladdin grabbed Jafar’s hand leading him towards Sinbad. “Eat with us! Uncle Sinbad makes really good food!”

Jafar let himself be lead sitting next to Sinbad with Aladdin popping up in between them.

Aladdin happily started eating but Jafar just stared at Sinbad concerned.

“…come by the office afterwards.” Was all Sinbad said before he began eating too.

Jafar nodded knowing he’ll answer his questions then.

♦♦♦

“It’s not what you think.” Sinbad began as he tucked Aladdin in on the couch. It was always his nap time after lunch.

“Then what is it? How long have you even had him? Did anyone even know?” Jafar was trying to stay calm to not wake Aladdin from his nap. But he had so many questions.

“It’s been about five months. Rurumu was the only one who knew and…Sheba, his mother, used to be my neighbor at that old shitty apartment I used to live in.”

Jafar sat down in front of the desk deciding this might be a long story.

“She was very sick. But very kind. I met Aladdin when he was only a few months.”

“The father?”

“Isn’t me.” Sinbad answered right away. “His father was killed when she was only a few months pregnant.”

“Oh my god. Why?”

“…his name was Solomon.”

“Solomon? Like David Abraham’s son Solomon. The twisted manipulator?”

“David was, not Solomon. Solomon was killed by some people David crossed. Sheba said he was a good man. Always loving and caring for her despite what others said.”

“You would think David would take care of his only grandson.” Jafar hated that man. He only met him once before and instantly loathed him.

“He doesn’t know about Aladdin. He didn’t even know about Sheba being pregnant. He was against Solomon’s relationship with her.”

“…this is a really deep subject Sin…maybe I shouldn’t know.” Just talking about this seemed to bother Sinbad.

Sinbad sighed leaning back. “It’s fine…I don’t really see why you shouldn’t know. But maybe I did go too deep? Maybe I just finally want to get this off my chest.” Rurumu herself only knew a few details.

"So what’s your relationship in all this?”

“Like I said I met Sheba when I first moved into that apartment. She was kind and helpful. Even fed me when I had nothing to eat.”

“She sounds wonderful.”

“Sheba was like a big sister to me…but she was very ill. Just kept growing sicker throughout the years. Nothing made her better.”

Jafar stayed quiet noticing tears forming in Sinbad’s eyes though he keep blinking them away.

“I would help her out the best I could. Cleaning, shopping, cooking, taking care of Aladdin. Even when I moved away I would still visit to make sure she was okay.”

“…what happened Sin?”

Sinbad clutched his fist at the bitter memory. “One day, my visit wasn’t as cheery as it usually is.”

♦♦♦

“Sheba?” Sinbad knocked again when he got no answer. “Sheba, I brought some take out today! Chinese from your favorite restaurant!” He frowned when there was still no answer. Maybe she was out at a doctor’s appointment. Though usually she would tell him when those were so he could take her. He was about to walk away when he heard noise coming from inside.

“S-sinbab…?” He heard Aladdin crying from the other side of the door.

“Aladdin? Aladdin what’s wrong?” Sinbad glued himself to the door instantly worried.

“M-mommy..she won…she won’t wake up…”

Sinbad panicked fishing the extra key he was given to open the door. He finally opened it seeing Aladdin crying. “Where’s Sheba?”

Aladdin pointed to the living room before Sinbad picked him up heading towards the living room. His heart dropped seeing Sheba on the floor. “Oh my god Sheba!” He put Aladdin down grabbing his phone to dial an ambulance. “Please be breathing. Please be breathing.” He kneeled in front of her feeling her pulse. It was faint but still there. “Yes hello? I need an ambulance right away! I don’t know how long she’s going to last!”

♦♦♦

Sinbad was holding Aladdin outside the emergency room. Aladdin had already fallen asleep from all his crying. Sinbad on the other hand had bags under his eyes refusing to get rest until he had some news on Sheba.

The doctor finally came out after what seemed like days going up to Sinbad. “She’s awake.”

“Is she..?” Sinbad frowned when he saw the doctor shook his head.

“I’m sorry. She probably won’t make it past tonight. Her illness has spread entirely throughout her body.”

Tears poured down Sinbad’s eyes at the news. “…she has a child.”

“I’m so sorry.” The doctor apologized again before leaving.

Sinbad shakenly got up going into the room. Sure enough, Sheba laid there awake doing her best to breath. “Sheba….”

“I already know….” Her voice was almost a whisper. “I was hoping I had more time…”

“There has to be something.”

“You and I both know…that isn’t true…I’ve been sick for a long time…”

Sinbad just cursed still crying. This wasn’t fair! She didn’t deserve this!

“Sinbad…I have a favor….to ask of you.”

“Anything.”

“Can you care…for Aladdin…I know that…it’s a lot of…responsibility…but I don’t trust him…with anyone else.”

Sinbad couldn’t find words. He looked down at Aladdin before nodding. He’ll care for him. He’ll make sure Aladdin has a wonderful life.

“Thank you…can you wake him…I want to say goodbye.”

Sinbad nodded again still not trusting his words. He shook him lightly in his arms before Aladdin began to stir opening his eyes. He looked over at Sheba noticing she was awake.

“Mommy?”

Sheba smiled trying to lift her arms to hold him. “Hi sweetie.” Sinbad put Aladdin on the bed letting the other crawl to her so they could hug.

“…I don’t like it here….I wanna go home.”

“Oh honey…I’m sorry…Mommy can’t go home.”

“Why not?”

“Because mommy has to go.” Sheba started to explain as she cried. “But…Sinbad will take good care of you. So you be good with him okay?”

“…can I visit you?”

Sheba shook her head still crying. “Mommy will be too far away. But I love you so very much Aladdin. So much.”

Aladdin stayed quiet. “…is mommy going with daddy…?”

Sheba nodded.

“Mommy Is gonna be an angel?”

“Yes…I’ll be watching over you.”

“Okay…I’ll be good with Sinbad. So mommy can be a happy angel.” Aladdin smiled though he was crying now.

Sheba held Aladdin as tight as she could.

“I love you mommy.”

“Me too. So much.”

Sinbad just watched quietly before the monitors beeping began to slow down until there was no more. He’ll make sure to keep his promise for Sheba. He’ll give Aladdin a wonderful life.

♦♦♦

“I’m sure you can catch up with the rest of the story.” Sinbad finished looking at Aladdin who was still sleeping. Tears were already pouring down his eyes from the memory. He really missed Sheba. He looked back at Jafar and was caught off guard.

Jafar was sitting there crying himself. He didn’t know this. Sinbad was just supposed to be some pervert. Yet now he realized Sinbad was…more than that.

“Oh my god I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Sinbad grabbed some tissues to give to Jafar.

“What do you expect?” Jafar took in a shaky breath drying his tears. “I didn’t know you were…nice.”

“I’m not really sure what to say to that.”

“I thought you were just a pervert.”

“You really know how to make people feel better don’t you?”

“Well you still are.”

“Anything else you want to insult about me?”

“Plenty but I’ll save them for later.”

“Thanks.”

Jafar smiled as they both laughed softly. He looked back at Aladdin. “…if you need any help. I’ll be happy to assist. I’m sure it isn’t easy for a single parent…uhh uncle.”

“I…really appreciate that.”

“It’s no problem…I wouldn’t want Aladdin becoming some pervert because of you.”

“And there are the insults.”

♦♦♦

Aladdin seemed to grow rather fond of Jafar. He was always happy to have the other over. And when he would go to the office he would stop by his office too. Jafar didn’t mind it at all…though there was one thing he did mind.

“Aunty Jafar!” Aladdin ran in hugging the other. So much for Aladdin’s office visit being a one time thing. Though no one seemed to mind. He was adorable.

“Hi Aladdin. But I thought I told you to just call me Jafar.”

“But uncle Sinbad said it was fine.”

“Of course he did.” Jafar will make sure to get him back later. Maybe doubling his work load.

“Should…should I not?” Aladdin gave him the puppy eyes. He loved calling Jafar auntie.

Jafar twitched before sighing. He wasn’t going to win this battle. “I suppose it’s alright.”

Aladdin smiled again snuggling against him.

“Come on Aladdin.” Sinbad came by the door grinning. “Auntie has some work to do.”

“Okay!” Aladdin let go off Jafar running towards Sinbad’s office.

“Auntie?” Jafar glared at him.

“What he likes it.” Sinbad smirked walking over to him. “And I mean you could be the official aunt if-”

“I’m still not going on a date with you.”

“Oh come on! You said I was nice.”

“Still a pervert.”

“What have I done lately that’s been perverted?”

“Touched my ass when I bent down for fallen paper work.”

“Oh yeah I forgot about that.”

“You cat whistle every time I walk by your office.”

“It’s a compliment.”

“You have the stupidest pick up lines.”

“Hey, I like you a latte while you were holding a latte was a good one…and that isn’t perverted.”

“So annoying.”

“You’re mean.”

“And yet you still chase me.” Jafar rolled his eyes before walking away.

Sinbad stopped for a moment before smirking. “I think you like being chased.”

“Excuse me?” Jafar stopped looking back at Sinbad.

“Admit it you love the attention.”

Jafar blushed. “You’re insane.”

“I can prove it.”

“Oh my god you’re insane.”

“I’ll prove to you that you like me chasing after you.”

“This outta be good.”

“Yes it will.” Sinbad winked before leaving. “Get ready to admit it.”

“Never.”

♦♦♦

Jafar was making some copies in the morning when he felt something-rather someone hug his legs. “Good morning Aladdin.”

“Morning auntie.” Aladdin giggled as Jafar lifted him.

“You sleep well?”

“Uh huh.” Aladdin kissed his cheek. “Uncle Sinbad read me a bed time story. There was a frog in it and a princess.”

“Now that’s really sweet of him.”

“Come on Aladdin.” Sinbad called out from down the hall.

Jafar put Aladdin down so he could run towards Sinbad. “What no awful pick up line?” Jafar smirked at him. He was dying to see how Sinbad was going to make him admit it.

Sinbad just smirked back winking at him before going towards his office.

Jafar just rolled his eyes before continuing his copies. Though, that was weird that Sinbad didn’t even try.

The rest of the day went by…slowly. No visits from Sinbad. No whistles. No touches. No stupid pick up lines. What the hell was happening?

Was Sinbad ignoring him?! How dare he?! He noticed Sinbad leaving with Aladdin in his arms and decided to demand an explanation. “Hey!”

Sinbad stopped looking back at Jafar who march over to him.

“Why are you ignoring me!?”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

“I don’t und-…What?” Jafar anger was immediately replaced by confusion.

“I’m not ignoring you. Did you call for me earlier or something?”

“I…no…I didn’t.”

“Then I guess I’m not ignoring you.” He shrugged.

“You just…always came by my office and today…”

“Well I am working.” Sinbad chuckled moving Aladdin to one arm. “And you asked me to stop my nonsense did you not?”

“I…did.”

“Then I guess everything is fine.” Sinbad laughed waving goodbye as he walked away again.

“Night.”

“Night auntie!” Aladdin waved too.

“…Good night.” Jafar waved back feeling…rather lonely?

♦♦♦

It’s been about a week since Sinbad has started his little plan. And it seemed to be working. Now it was Jafar looking for him. He would start small talk and Sinbad made sure to keep it small. He really missed messing with the other though. But if he kept it up Jafar was sure to be his.

“Sin! Sin!” Aladdin ran up to him as he made them dinner.

“Woah where’s the fire. Why are you all worked up?”

“I made Jafar’s in…invi…invitation!” he said proudly. Jafar helped him to pronounce bigger words.

Sinbad blinked turning down the burner and kneeling down. “Invitation for what?”

“Your birthday!” Aladdin pointed at the picture. “It’s a pool party! You’re here in the pool. I’m swimming with Jafar here. Ruru is cooking with Hoho.” Aladdin kept pointing at everyone and everything in the picture.

Sinbad forgot his birthday was coming up. He has been pretty busy. A get together did sound nice. And they did have a pool. “You want to have a pool party for me?”

“Uh huh!” Aladdin bounced in place excited. “We can have hotdogs and hamburgers!”

“Alright. I’ll see if everyone can make it.”

“I want to give this to auntie Jafar!” Aladdin tugged on his sleeve.

“You want to personally invite him?”

Aladdin nodded looking back at his picture. “Yeah…he hasn’t come by to play in awhile…”

That…broke Sinbad’s heart. Aladdin missed Jafar…but this was perfect! Aladdin’s cuteness was irresistible! He could use this! “You’ll get to invite him tomorrow.” He messed with Aladdin’s hair making him giggle. “Tell him how much you’ve missed him too.”

♦♦♦

“You miss him.” Rurumu pointed out as they both drank coffee in her office.

“I do not!” Jafar huffed with bags under his eyes. To think he was losing sleep over this.

“You’re losing sleep over this.”

“Stop…stop reading my thoughts.” She always knew what he was thinking. It was kind of scary. He sipped his coffee.

“Honey, don’t you think the only reason you’ve put up with Sinbad as long as you have is maybe because you like him?”

“No!” he slammed his fist on the table almost knocking over the coffee. “S-sorry.”

“It’s alright. This table has taken quite a beating before.” She looked up noticing Jafar’s horrid expression. She blushed realizing what the other was thinking. “Jafar!”

“I’m sorry! My mind immediately went to a bad place!”

“You really have been hanging out with Sinbad too much.” She shook her head.

A knock was heard before the door was opened by Aladdin. “Auntie!” he ran over to Jafar. He was looking all over for him! “Oh! Good morning Ruru.” He smiled at her.

“Morning Aladdin.” She smiled at his politeness. Such a cute child.

“What are you doing over here Aladdin?” Jafar asked letting Aladdin climb on his lap.

“To invite you!” he showed Jafar his drawing. “It’s Uncle Sinbad birthday next week! We’re having a pool party!”

“A pool party?” Jafar didn’t do well outdoors. He gets burnt rather easily. But with Aladdin now explaining his picture… “It sounds fun.”

“So you’ll come?” Aladdin asked hopeful.

“I’m sure I can make it.”

Aladdin hugged Jafar. “I glad….I really missed you. You haven’t come to play…”

Jafar was suddenly washed over with guilt. He made Aladdin sad because of his stubbornness! “Oh I’m sorry Aladdin. I’ll make sure to make more time to come see you.”

“Promise?”

“Of course.”

♦♦♦

“You know. You didn’t have to help us set up the party.” Sinbad pointed out as he was cleaning the barbeque.

“Aladdin wanted me to spend time with him so I came early.” Jafar set up the tables. He just didn’t think Aladdin was going to be napping before the party.

“Alright.” Sinbad appreciated the help. And seeing Jafar in shorts and a white t-shirt was nice. He only saw the other in suits all the time. Not that he minded.

They fell into another silence as they continued setting things up. Jafar still didn’t like this. Sinbad was still not doing anything. But he refused to give in. He’ll just have to get used to this. The quiet…just like before Sinbad.

“Jafar?” The other jumped when Sinbad was suddenly behind him. “Sorry didn’t mean to scare you. You’ve just been staring at that towel for awhile.

Jafar looked at the towel in his hand before folding it and placing it with the others. “I just zoned out I guess.”

“You need something to drink? Rurumu told me you were sensitive with the sun.” Maybe the other was dehydrated. “Sit here I’ll grab you some lemonade.” He laid Jafar down on one of the pool chairs before going inside.

Jafar watched the other go inside before frowning. Maybe Sinbad just didn’t like him anymore. Who would after all the rejection right? Well this is what he wanted. To be left alone by Sinbad right? Doesn’t feel as good as he thought it would. He turned to his side to try to get more comfortable when he noticed big blue eyes staring. He sat up seeing Aladdin looking at him concerned.

“Are you not feeling well auntie?” Aladdin climbed up to sit next to him.

“Oh I’m fine just a little tired.” Jafar smiled not wanting to worry Aladdin.

Aladdin still didn’t look convinced. He wasn’t looking up at Jafar as he fidgeted with his thumbs. “…are you and Sin mad at each other?”

“Why would you think that?” Did Sinbad say something? Maybe he was just tired of him.

“You hardly come anymore…and uncle Sinbad doesn’t visit you like he used to.” He looked up at Jafar.

“We just been very busy at work lately Aladdin. We’re not mad.”

“So you and Sinbad still like each other?”

“Well I do see Sin as a friend I suppose.”

“No.” Aladdin frowned. “Like! Like how mommy liked daddy!”

Jafar was surprised Aladdin was asking this. “I don’t think so no.”

“But uncle Sin likes you.”

“I doubt he likes me like that.” It was just silly flirting Sinbad got tired of.

“…don’t you like Sinbad?”

Jafar stayed quiet not sure how to answer that. It was just a kid asking. He should be able to say no and drop it.

“One tall glass of lemonade coming right up!” Sinbad came outside noticing Aladdin. “You done with your nap?”

“Uh-huh.” Aladdin didn’t seem happy that Jafar stayed quiet.

“Still kind of sleepy aren’t you?” He handed Jafar the lemonade before picking Aladdin up. “I’ll be back Jafar. Gonna find Aladdin some swim trunks.”

Jafar smiled softly watching Sinbad go back inside. His smiled quickly faded looking back at the drink in his hand. What was he doing here?

♦♦♦

“Always nice to relax in a pool.” Hinahoho sighed in bless as he floated.

“Cannon ball!” The other was suddenly splashed followed by laughter of four teens.

“Kikirku stop trying to kill your father.” Rurumu shook her head at them as she sliced some watermelon.

Sinbad laughed along with everyone else. He was glad to see everyone so relaxed instead of stressed all the time with work.

“A pool party was a good idea.” Pisti cheered with Yamraiha as they both relaxed on floaties.

“It really was.” Mystras agreed happily watching Pipirka in her bikini playing with Aladdin.

“Get in there already.” Drakon pushed him in as he walked by to give Sahel her drink. Honestly those two were finally dating but Mystras was still as shy as ever. The other swam up coughing as Pipirka made sure he was okay.

Sharrkan bursted out laughing before he himself was pushed in by Masrur. There was no reason why he did it. He just felt like it.

“I should stay away from the sides of the pool.” Spartos made a note to himself. He didn’t want to pushed in.

Sinbad grabbed another beer from the ice chest looking around. Where did Jafar go? He was out here earlier.

Jafar sighed setting his gift on the table inside. Sinbad’s favorite wine. He was supposed to give it to him personally, but right now didn’t seem like a good time. At least with everyone distracted outside he could leave unnoticed. He turned around jumping at the sight of Sinbad. This was the second time the other snuck up on him today!

“Leaving so soon?” Sinbad frowned.

“I…I wasn’t feeling very well.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Weren’t even going to say bye?” Did Jafar really feel that bad? He was usually overly polite at parties. Unless he drank. Then it really was a party.

“I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“It’s a party Jafar. You really wouldn’t be interrupting anything.” He looked over at the table. Jafar got him a gift?

“Right. Well I think I should be going. Happy Birthday Sin.” He smiled walking past the other.

“Are you really feeling that bad?” Sinbad decided to at least walk Jafar out the door.

“Yeah…” Jafar paused at the door. “…you were right you know.”

Now Sinbad was confused. What was he right about?

“I guess maybe I did like the attention you gave me. I never thought anyone could even like me in such a way.” He gulped feeling himself shake. “But I guess you can only take so much rejection before you decide it’s not worth it anymore.”

Sinbad’s eyes widen. This wasn’t the confession he wanted! Did he really make Jafar feel unwanted. “Jafar it’s not like that-“

“I really did like the time we spent together. But I guess I was just too scared of it at the same time. Getting my hopes up.” Jafar turned around and Sinbad’s heart sunk. He was crying. “I’m really sorry for wasting your time. I hope you like your gift.” He turned back around opening the door.

It was immediately pushed closed again by Sinbad’s hand. “Jafar…this isn’t the confession I wanted.”

Jafar looked back at the other confused. What did he mean by confession he wanted?

“I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted. Jafar for god’s sake I really do like you.” He ran his fingers through his hair frustrated. “I mean it’s pretty obvious with everything I do.”

“But lately-“

“I know, I know. I wasn’t really doing any of that lately but it was to prove my point!”

“Your….point?”

“You know…for you to admit you liked me chasing you.” Sinbad reminded. “I really didn’t mean for you to feel bad.”

“So you weren’t…tired of me?”

“God no! Jafar I could never be tired of you!”

“So this was just your plan?”

“Not exactly I didn’t think I’d make you cry.”

“So you did this on purpose?” Jafar glared at Sinbad.

“You’re uhh…you’re sounding a little angry there Jafar.” Sinbad backed away a bit.

“You ignored me to get me to confess?!” Every step back Sinbad took Jafar matched with a stepped forward. They made it all the way outside and now everyone’s eyes were on them. What was going on?

“When you put it that way it sounds bad.” Sinbad gulped. “I’m really really sorry I put you through this.”

“You will be sorry!” Jafar pulled his hand back.

Sinbad shut his eyes waiting for a punch. When it didn’t come he finally peeked open his eye. He was confused when he saw Jafar’s finger against his forehead. He couldn’t think about it too long since Jafar pushed him back with it and he fell into the pool. He swam back up gasping for air. Jafar jumped into the pool himself cornering Sinbad. “Jafar look I’m really sorry!” Sinbad was actually scared of the other. Jafar has never been this mad at him before. Jafar grabbed Sinbad by his shirt collar. “I didn’t mean-!”

Jafar decided to finally shut Sinbad up once and for all. Though in a way no one expected. He kissed him. He pulled away still glaring at Sinbad. Though it didn’t have the same effect since he was now blushing. “Don’t ever mess with my emotions again.”

Sinbad just nodded before he was pulled into another kiss. He was not complaining.

“So does this mean you do like him!?” They were both interrupted by Aladdin standing next to them on the side of the pool. He was excited to see them together! It was always more fun with them together.

“I always thought Sinbad would be the one to kiss Jafar first not the other way around.” Yamraiha commented staring with everyone else. They don’t know what exactly happened but they were happy the two were finally together.

Jafar went completely red forgetting about everyone else. He began to swim away from Sinbad.

“Where are you going?” Sinbad grabbed Jafar arm.

“To drown myself.” He mumbled. To think he did this in front of everyone. He was so angry! All he saw was red and Sinbad!

“Nope!” Sinbad laughed hugging him. “You owe me a date now!”

Aladdin watched them as everyone laughed. He began kicking the water with his feet before looking up at the blue sky. He blinked seeing two figures on a cloud smiling at him. He grinned waving at them as they disappeared. His mommy really did turn into a beautiful angel. And now she was together with daddy. He knows they’ll watch over him with his new family.

Sinbad picked up Aladdin bringing him in the pool. “Want some watermelon?”

“Yeah!” he smiled.

“Not too much though. I don’t your appetite ruined for lunch.” Jafar smiled getting out the pool.

“Okay!” Aladdin laughed as Sinbad got out of the pool with him. Once he put Aladdin down, the boy ran up to grab Jafar’s hand and Sinbad’s so they can walk together. This was his new family now. And he loved them just like he did his mommy.

[secret-captain-swan-blog]

Castle on the Hill

English Literature PhD student Emma Swan just needs money to pay for her last semester of grad school tuition. Killian Jones has always dreamed of opening a bookshop but has never been able to afford it. So when the small principality of Misthaven is looking for their lost princess, the pair decide that this might just be the perfect money making scheme.

A Multi-chapter Modern Day + Lost Princess (think Rapunzel/Anastasia-esque) + Book Lovers in a Coffee Shop AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 26189/ ?

Prologue (Part 1 + 2) // Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3

Read on: Ao3

A million thanks to my cheerleader/coach/cinnamon roll @katie-dub for being my beta and telling me cute stories about 2-year-olds!

Unfortunately, the incident with Killian and the creepy guy forces her to avoid Mamie’s. She doesn’t know if she’ll run into him there and she is not ready to talk about what happened in that scarier-than-hell pawn shop, or whatever it was. Honestly, she doesn’t know if she’ll ever be able to.

Instead, she makes do with coffee made in the French press she finds in the apartment’s cupboard. It’s not great and certainly not as wonderful as Mamie’s, but well she’ll take what she can get.

She throws herself instead into university life to give herself proper distraction. As part of her fellowship with Misthaven University, she’s responsible for teaching a course to undergraduates. She finds out this week that she’s assigned to teach an Intro to American Lit class. She hasn’t really dealt extensively with American literature class, it’s certainly not her specialty. She imagines that they gave it to her just because she is American. Emma spends an afternoon sifting through books and trying to pick some novels selections for the semester. It’s hard to decide on a proper survey, weighing the options of a more traditional canon American reading list against a more diverse one.

The next day, she crafts the syllabus. It’s several hours in the library with a thermos of coffee and a bag of croissants and stroopwafel (dang, at least Misthaven has one thing right- the perfect intersection of food). The library in Misthaven is gorgeous. While most of the university buildings are more modern architecture, the library is older. Its rich wood and elegant windows makes her feel like she’s in a fairy tale. It’s the closest she’ll get, so she might as well enjoy it. She outlines the entire course, including details on papers and reading assignments. She realizes that classes in Europe might actually be different than they are in America, but she doesn’t really know how else to structure a class, so she goes for it.

On Friday morning, she finds herself in Professor Hood’s office for her advising meeting. He’s younger than she imagined, probably late thirties or early forties. His office is sunny and decorated with illustrations of various English folk stories and legends.

“How have you been settling in?” He asks her, as she slides down into a seat and he passes her a cup of tea.

He speaks with a crisp English accent, no trace of a Misthaven accent. She assumes he must be an implant like herself.

“I’m doing well,” she tells him.

“You’ve secured lodgings and all that?” He asks.

“Yeah, I’ve done an apartment swap,” she informs him.

“That’s great. Sometimes foreign students can have trouble with that kind of thing,” he tells her.

“No problems here.”

“And the culture shock isn’t too much?” He asks, “I know it was hard for me when I got here.”

Culture shock? She thinks. More like “worry for my life” shock . But she can’t tell this random professor about her brief dalliance with scamming the Queen. Or the creepy man in the pawn shop who might’ve tried to kill her. Or the stupidly attractive Misthaven guy who made her heart a little swoony.

Instead, she smiles sweetly and says, “It’s not terrible. I’ve been dreaming of visiting Misthaven for so long, so I think it’s mostly just excitement for now. I’m sure the culture shock will kick in soon enough.”

“Good to hear. If you ever need suggestions for places to go, let me know. I’ve been in Misthaven for a while, so I’ve found the expat troves.”

“How did you find yourself here?” She asks.

Emma is becoming increasingly curious about this guy. There aren’t a ton of expats in Misthaven, since the borders have only been open a few years. He’s not a visiting professor either. She wonders how this British man ended up with a secure place on the Misthaven staff.

“Love,” he says, blushing, “I was working on my undergrad at the University of Nottingham and I fell for a visiting student from Misthaven. I followed her here. Just after that, the Crown fell and we were trapped here. We made the best of it and got married. We needed something to be happy about.”

Emma likes stories, even personal ones. Suddenly she wants to know all of Professor Hood’s story. Besides, part of her research involves listening to stories of resistance and accounts from people who lived through the Dark Times. This seems to be a place to start.

“That’s so sweet,” Emma prods, gently, “What happened after that?”

He smiles, thinking of his wife then sighs, as he continues to spin his story. “It was a dark time for academia. There was a witch hunt here for people who had royal sympathies or who were opposed to Gold’s dictatorship. A lot of professors lost their jobs, most imprisoned, some worse.”

Emma can’t imagine living under such a harsh regime. Academia has always been her safe escape. This story is turning from sweet to scary in a matter of words.

“That’s horrible. Were you okay?” Emma asks.

He grimaces, painful memories stretched out across his face.

“Sorry,” Emma says quickly, “This is really personal. You don’t have to tell me these things if you are uncomfortable.”

He shakes his head, “It’s okay. I wanted to work with you for a reason, Emma. When I saw your proposal, I jumped at the chance to have our story told, the stories of many like us told. The work you are doing is rare and important.”

Emma nods and carefully slips her notebook out to start jotting down notes. Professor Hood takes a sip of his tea and then continues.

“Eventually my name went onto a black list and I was certain that I was bound for prison. My wife and I decided it was best for me to go into hiding. I spent three years living in a secret panel in my basement. It was maddening, but my wife, my Marian, she took exceptional care of me and never let me grow lonely.”

“That’s great of her,” Emma says. She wonders if she’ll get to meet this woman. From this story it sounds like they are a perfect match.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice melancholic, “we were both growing impatient. Things were getting worse and worse. Food was being rationed and we shared just her ration, so we were both constantly hungry. Oil was rationed as well and everything was always cold. I was worried I was going to spend my whole damn life freezing in that basement and Marian blamed herself for moving us here. So, we got involved in the resistance movement. She was in deeper than I was, since she could leave the house. She eventually ended up being part of the team that planned the final battle for the castle, the movement that ended the Dark Times in Misthaven.” He gulps, “but she met her end there.”

Emma’s mouth opens in shock. She’s read countless things about Misthaven resistance movements, but it’s different to hear it from someone who lived through it.

“Thanks for telling me that,” she says, not knowing if she should reach out in comfort, but she hardly knows him. Instead, she busies her hands taking notes. “I’m really sorry about your wife. That’s part of why I’ve come here, though. I want to understand resistance better from people who lived through it. I want to be able to argue how and why Blanche Neige used her books to encourage revolution.”

“Well, I can certainly help you find people to interview,” He says, “Those of us who remain from the resistance are still very close. We’d be happy to help you find people for your project.”

“Thanks so much,” she says, finishing her notes.

“What else do you need help with?” he asks.

“Well, I’m hoping to use the Misthaven U Folk and Fairytale collection to look at the stories she based her novels on,” Emma adds.

“That’s great idea. We have some rare collections that I can grant you access to.”

“Amazing,” Emma breathes, excited at the very notion of pouring over the old tomes.

“If you need help with anything else, let me know,” Professor Hood finishes.

“I will,” she promises, stacking up her notebooks as she feels the short meeting approaching it’s end.

“And will you send me your thesis so far?” He asks, “I don’t think I’ve actually been sent it yet- I’d love to give you feedback if you are up for it?”

“That’s great,” Emma says, earnestly, “All I want is for this thing to be the best it can be.”

“I look forward to reading it. Do you have plans for tonight?” he asks.

Emma’s feels her forehead wrinkle. Her new advisor is hitting on her? That’s definitely unprofessional, not mention that he’s far too old. And he just told her the story of his dead wife.

“Sorry,” he amends, seeing where her thoughts had turned, “Not like that. It’s just that they give out free opera house tickets to foreign students every Friday. They do really great performances there, operas and ballets, if you like that kind of thing. Even if you don’t, it’s a nice excuse for an evening out and the building is gorgeous.”

“Oh thanks for the tip,” Emma says. “I’ll think about it.”

She bids her goodbyes and gathers her stuff.

The Opera isn’t a bad idea. She’s still spooked from the events earlier this week and she’d rather not spend the night alone in her apartment. Plus, it might be a way to meet some other foreign students, since she is yet to make friends. Other than Killian, if you counted the 12 hours they were wary friends.

She stops by the foreign student office on her way to the tram and picks up a ticket for the performance that night. It’s an opera by Samuel Barber. She doesn’t know much about opera, so she hopes it’s alright.

When she gets off the tram in her neighborhood, she finds herself ducking into little clothing stores to window shop. This area has a lot of thrift shops and independent boutiques.

Emma won’t deny that she misses her old jean jacket. She’s upset that it was a casualty of that horrible night. There was something comforting about the worn jacket - it was a talisman of sorts, protecting her from harm. She weaves through racks at the thrift shop looking for a replacement. She fingers tan suede jackets, black corduroy ones, and a bright pink windbreaker.

A red jacket catches her eye and she slips it on. It feels right. After her last jacket was ripped from her shoulders, this one feels steady, like armor. It’s the kind of jacket that is perfect for a girl who has always had to do everything for herself.

She buys the thing, spending more than she had planned to. But hey, she got a free ticket to the opera. She can splurge on something .

It’s just past noon when she gets back to her apartment and she’s exhausted. Honestly, this week has been so fricken much. She needs to escape and not think about her grant applications or the creepy man in the pawn shop. She hasn’t been sleeping well, images of that night dancing before her eyes and make it hard for her to calm down. All Emma wants to do is relax. She tosses her opera ticket and new jacket onto the counter and heads over to her bookshelf.

Today she needs an old favorite, she picks up a Blanche Neige book. This is one of her favorites, Towering Hope , a twist on Rapunzel. It’s much more empowering than the traditional fairy tale. In this version, the savior of Misthaven is trapped in a castle. There is a hero, a dashing rapscallion of a thief, who comes to save her from the tower - but only so that she can use her powers to save the whole country and lead them all to freedom. Emma’s always liked this narrative because while the damsel gets rescued from the tower, she’s also the hero of the story. That’s what she loves about Blanche Neige, the way that her stories are always empowering, always about resisting, and yet still have the magic and charm of fairy tales.

The story is more than familiar, it’s like an old favorite song. She’s read it countless times. She’s analyzed it and wrote essays on it. Somewhere along the familiar pages and the softness of being curled up on the sunny sofa, Emma falls asleep.

When she awakes, the light is low and she finally feels rested for the first time that week. She can’t remember her dream, but she knows that there were traces of Towering Hope in it, but that the thief had Killian’s eyes. Stupid, attractive Killian. She wishes she could get him out of her head so she could move on from that night, that idiotic idea. But she can’t.

She pushes him out of her mind, for now at least. She has bigger things to do, like get ready for this opera.

Emma has never really owned the sort of things that one wears to an opera, but after rummaging in her closet for a bit, she picks out a plain black dress and a statement necklace. With a pair of heels and some red lipstick, she figures she can almost pull it off.

She quickly makes a mug of coffee with the French press, toasts a few slices of bread, and then she’s out the door. It’s a tram ride into town, just across the river to Old Town. The opera house sits along the water. It’s ornate, as an opera house should be, white with gold accents and a domed roof.

Outside, she finds a person carrying a sign that reads “Misthaven U Foreign Students” and she joins the crowd. There is a cluster of undergrad students speaking very quickly to each other in Korean, two girls chattering in what might be Norwegian, and a few more chattering in French. Emma was expecting to use this outing as an opportunity to make new friends, but she quickly realizes this might not be the case.

The group moves into the opera house and Emma shuffles along beside them. She squares her shoulders as she walks in. She doesn’t need friends. She’s always gotten through life on her own grit and perseverance. She’s going to enjoy the night even if she is by herself.

The opera house is lovely and certainly distracts her from her problems. There are gold and marble embellishments everywhere, fresh flowers, and velvet draping. Emma wants to look at all of it all at once, but the group is guided along to where their seats are.

Emma glances through her program as the curtain drops and then all at once she’s absorbed in the show.

And it’s weird. It’s really weird. An older woman is waiting for her lover, Anatole, to return to her - but his son does instead. And somehow she falls in love with him? But he impregnates her niece. Yeah, it’s super weird.

At the interval, Emma downs a glass of red wine because she knows that’s the only way she’ll make it through the rest. Plus, the broody plot lends itself to red wine.

By the end of the opera, three and half hours that feel like the longest of her life, the wine has made its way through her system. All she can think is that she has to pee. Like right now.

While the applause starts, she bolts out of her seat and dashes to the closest bathroom before the bows begin. As much as she should feel bad for not adding the applause, she really doesn’t because the opera was so strange.

As she exits the toilets, she washes her hands and pauses to fix her hair.

“So, what did you think?” asks a voice and Emma glances up to see the woman next to her.

Standing beside her at the mirror is a woman with short cropped hair and a nice pantsuit. Her face is lightly lined. She’s probably in her late forties, maybe early fifties. She has an elegant way of carrying herself that Emma envies. She’s always had atrocious posture.

Emma tries for something intellectual to say. This lady seems like the serious opera type.

“Well, it was certainly literary,” Emma manages, after all, she is really good at analyzing things. “The plot was wholly modernist, I think. Though I think anything with that many Oedipal allusions isn’t necessarily my cup of tea.”

“It’s okay, I won’t be offended if you say it sucked,” the woman says.

She has a clear, posh Misthaven accent to her English - with a hint of something that Emma can’t quite place. She’s the kind of woman you’d never expect to say the word “sucked.”

“Okay,” Emma laughs, “It did kinda suck.”

“Honestly, I think most operas in English tend to,” she explains, “Maybe go to an Italian, or even a French one, next time around.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” Emma says.

“Is it your first time at the opera?” asks the lady.

Emma nods, a little shyly. She’s an intellectual. She doesn’t like to admit not knowing things.

“Well, I hope it doesn’t deter you from coming back,” the lady says, “There are usually very nice shows on here. There is a very promising ballet planned for next Friday, if that interests you. It should be a bit better than this.”

Emma laughs, “yeah, maybe I’ll come back. I’m here for the next few months.”

“Here, I’ll make it easy for you,” the lady says, “I can arrange some free tickets for you.”

Geesh , Emma thinks, they must be desperate in this town to get people into the opera house if they are always giving out free tickets.

“That’ll be great,” Emma says, sounding more enthusiastic than she actually is. She’d feel bad disappointing this opera aficionado who seems so zealous about getting Emma interested in this place.

“I’ll leave two tickets next Friday at the door under your name,” she tells her, “What is it?”

“Emma, Emma Swan.”

The woman’s eyes widen and she shivers. Emma can feel her looking her up and down, before she meets her eyes, staring intensely.

“Sorry, is something wrong?” Emma asks.

The woman startles, “what? No, sorry. I’ll arrange the tickets for you, Emma.”

“Uh, thanks,” Emma replies feeling a little awkward.

The woman exits the bathroom with a final, closed mouthed smile. Emma turns back to the mirror and gazes at her reflection. What had the woman been looking for? What had she seen?

Killian has often dreamt of the night he fled the castle. The screams of the queen echoing through the castle. The feeling of air tearing through his lungs as he runs as fast as his short legs will take him to his gran’s cottage. The empty, hollow feeling as he watches Liam and a small bob of blonde hair disappear from sight. Killian knows that dream well.

So, when a new one begins, it startles him.

The night he returns from the pawn shop, his bones rattled, his hand still shaking from the altercation with stranger, the new dream begins.

He climbs in bed, thinking of Emma. For a moment, he had been sure that the man was going to kill her. The knife raised above her, the fierce look in her eyes replaced by terror - he thought that he’d led the girl to her demise. He hopes that creating a diversion was enough of an apology to her for the mess he dragged her into. He knows she probably won’t ever forgive him for the trouble he caused her, but he’ll miss the lass. He’s known her for a day and he’s already charmed by her quick mind and golden hair.

Her golden hair somehow fades into another’s.

He dreams that night of being a child in the palace. He dreams of the tiny apartment that he and Liam had in the basement. They shared a bed, Killian just small enough to fit under this brother’s shoulder.

He dreams of the royal library, where he discovered new books and would spend hours stretched out on the floor flicking through pages - gazing at pictures and attempting to read the words beside them.

He dreams of trays of rich food that his brother would bring him in the evenings. He’d explain they came from the king’s table, leftovers from the feast.

He dreams of a night when he snuck up the stairs to watch a ball. He remembers all the couples waltzing to the most beautiful music. He thinks of the elegant clothes, the smells of sweets, and the ornate decorations. Even for a young boy, he was very impressed.

He dreams of the family. The father with his blond hair and ponytail. The mother with her round face and long, dark hair. And the daughter, the princess - Emma.

Emma with her wispy gold locks, her dimpled chin, her doey green eyes. Emma with her infectious giggle and toothy smile. He remembers playing with her. She was smaller, first a baby that he’d sing songs to. Then she was toddling and cooing, chasing after him down palace corridors. She was three or four when she fled with Liam. He remembers that she was finally the age where they could play proper games together. He wonders if they would have been real friends when they grew older.

She’s everywhere in his dreams. He’s chasing her down hallways. She’s always one step out of reach.

He awakes with the image a different blond haired girl in his mind. One with longer legs, lovely curves, and a determined poise. Emma .

He tries to get her out of his mind. He throws himself into work at the bar, engaging with customers, making them laugh. He gets Ruby to distract him when he can, having her play dice with him when the bar is having low periods.

The rest of the time he has to himself he reads. He decides on a whim to reread the Blanche Neige series. They’ve been his favorite always, since he discovered them in the library as a teenager. He craves their easy comfort now. He loves the way that the words coax him, familiar like an old favorite song. Even now, in the sad nostalgia and strange dreams left in Emma’s wake, the books lull him and help him to forget his worries.

He manages to stay distracted through the weekend, the bar is busy enough then. It isn’t until the stillness of his Tuesday afternoon that he find himself at Mamie’s with a Blanche Neige book in hand. All he wants to do was to drink an americano and try to lose the dismally restless feeling he’s acquired since that night in the pawn shop.

So, his heart stops a little when he looks up and sees her. Emma.

Her hair is up in a high bun, square rim glasses balanced on her nose. She’s dressed in a black thingy, which Killian thinks might be called a romper, only because Ruby’s called it that before. She has a red leather jacket over it, the overall look seems to match her fierceness. Her laptop is in front of her, a stack of books to her side.

He doesn’t know what to do for a moment. Does he go talk to her? He wants to. He really wants to. He hasn’t stopped thinking about her, try as he may, and here she is right in front of him. He wants to apologize. He wants to make things right with her.

But then again, things left off so horribly between them. He wonders if it’s best to duck out the backdoor and pretend that he didn’t see her. That way he doesn’t have to confront how awkward their last moments together were.

Emma looks up and their eyes meet. She glances away and for a moment he thinks that she’s made the decision for him. She is going to ignore him. Then, she swallows and meets his eyes again. A tiny smile graces her lips, an invitation.

Killian leaves his coffee and book behind to go to her table.

A gentle blush rises in her cheeks and she tucks a strand of hair into her bun.

“Emma, look, I just wanted to say how sorry I am for how everything turned out,” He begins, looking down at his feet, scratching a hand behind his ear, “I never, ever meant to put you in danger.”

“Um, yeah, I’m not going to lie to you, last Tuesday was one of the scariest experiences of my life,” she babbles awkwardly, adorably. “And like, that’s really saying a lot considering my childhood.”

His eyes widen a bit as he takes in her accidental overshare. Just what has this poor girl gone through? He wants to know her secrets, her stories. But they are strangers, former business partners - it’s never going to happen.

“Anyway,” she continues, clearly not wanting to dwell on her admission. “It seemed like you were trying to help. I mean I know that you said the guy was creepy, but I think we were both blindsided by just how weird that got.”

Killian nods furiously. “You can say that again.”

“You got out okay?” she asks, lightly.

He nods again. “Yeah I was just behind you. I haven’t the seen the fiend since.”

“That’s good,” Emma says, “I honestly don’t know what I’d do.”

Killian sniffles and looks down again, thinking it’s probably best to start retreating back to his table and back to his americano. Things are always going to be weird between him and Emma. They can’t just go from the horrible night they experienced and expect to become anything like friends afterwards.

Then he sees the book on top of her stack, Towering Hope by Blanche Neige.

“You read Blanche Neige?” he blurts out,flushed with surprise. Those books are everything to him. They’re the reason he was able to rebuild his life after being a young offender. They’re the reason he was able to find hope.

And there is this girl who has already woven a little tendril around his heart sitting in front of him, reading the very same book.

“Um, actually,” she says, the blush returning to her cheeks. “I’m writing my PhD dissertation on Blanche Neige. I’m basing my career on her.”

“So, you’re something of a Blanche Neige expert?” he asks.

She snorts a laugh. “Not exactly. Not yet, at least. I’ve got to finish the dissertation. But yeah, no one’s written on her before. So maybe, one day.”

“Emma Swan, Blanche Neige expert,” he says, sliding into the seat opposite of her. “Wow, that’s sexy.”

She lets out a full laugh this time, tugging on her bun again.

“I take it you’re a fan?” She asks, curiosity lacing her voice.

“Right, well, you know that horrible childhood thing you talked about before?”

She purses her lips together, her forehead wrinkling again.

“Well, yes, I had one of those too. Quite miserable.” He rattles on, not ready to give details. “But Miss Blanche here, her books were the things that helped me through it.”

She nods, her voice soft, the moment suddenly intimate for the coffee shop setting. “I understand that. The way books can save you from the bad stuff.”

Killian nods and smiles, because Emma gets it. She’s probably the first person he’s ever met who gets it.

“Books are like a little bit of hope,” She adds.

“They are exactly that, Swan.” He nods.

“So what is your favorite?”

“Of Blanche Neige?” He muses, “Probably Never in this Land. ”

He thinks of the novel, a twist on Peter Pan where a modern Captain Hook has a change of heart, abandoning his life of crime and becoming a hero. He ends up sheltering three “darling” children in his house to keep them safe from the dictator.  Like all Blanche Neige, it’s a story about freedom, bravery, and resistance.

“Interesting choice,” she says, smiling.

He wonders if she sees through his choice. He wonders if she sees his previous life of crime. He wonders if she sees a villain in him.

But instead, it seems her thoughts are purely intellectual.

“It’s curiously the only Blanche Neige book that’s not based directly on a fairy tale. Well, that and The Yellow Bug. I can’t find the source material for that one, no matter how hard I look.”

“The Yellow Bug?” Killian muses.

He tries to place the tale. He recalls it a little, the story of an outsider who comes to town in a yellow VMW. She’s looking for her family, but never ends up finding them. Instead, she discovers she can talk to animals and uses the ability to help foil the uprising. In the story, the dictator keeps his soul in an egg which was taken from one of the animals and the heroine eventually finds a way to destroy the soul inside. In typical Blanche Neige fashion, she delivers the town from the dictator.

“You can see traces of the Goose Girl in it,” Emma explains, “In the plot line with the talking animals. And other traces of the Firebird in it, with the soul in the egg. But there are other bits that I can’t place. Blanche Neige usually draws from one source fable, so it doesn’t make sense that she’d mash up a few, or that she’d deviate from using a fairy tale.”

Killian opens his mouth in wonder at Emma. She really is the Blanche Neige expert. Listening to her talk in such detail about his favorite book with so much enthusiasm endears her further to him.

Only he notices one thing she doesn’t.

“I know the story,” Killian blurts.

“What?” Emma asks, surprise in her eyes.

“The source story,” he says, “I remember being told it as a child. It was called The Yellow Carriage. A stranger comes to town in a yellow carriage.”

“What do you mean?” Emma says, “I’ve done extensive research. I’ve looked through countless fairy tale databases.”

“I promise you,” He says emphatically, “I remember it from childhood. The Yellow Carriage.”

Emma gapes at him.

“Well, do you know where to find it?”

“I haven’t heard it since I was a child,” He admits, “I wouldn’t know the anthology it came from.”

Emma frowns. He doesn’t like the disappointment and unhappiness on her face.

“But listen, I’ll try my best to think back and see if I remember it. If I think of it, I’ll tell you.”

The frown abates from her face, “Thanks. It’s just that there is a whole chapter of my dissertation about the irregularities of The Yellow Bug and if there is a source for it - well, it changes things. I wouldn’t want to submit it with an error in it.”

“Listen, I’ve only listened to you talk about Blanche Neige for five minutes now, but I’ve never heard anyone as passionate and informed as you. Anyone reading your thesis or whatever will be able to tell,” He flatters.

She rolls her eyes. “That’s not really how academia works. People don’t care about enthusiasm, just precise analysis and fresh ideas.”

“That’s too bad,” he says, “Or else all your work would be done.”

A blush ghosts her cheeks again, before she admits, “well, that would save me a lot of trouble. The reason I’m so desperate for money is because I need to pay for another semester of grad school.”

“That’s why you agreed to my proposal?” He clarifies.

His heart melts a little for her. Emma, so sweet and studious that her ambition is not for a vacation or a large house or money to spend on clothes and jewels, but to learn, to read literature, to study Blanche Neige.

“I just really want to finish my PhD.” She nods. “And the money would have helped to pay back my student loans from undergrad as well.”

Killian feels a flair of anger at the expense of university education in America. In Misthaven, university fees are very minimal and heavily subsidized by the government. He wishes that Emma didn’t have to worry about fees and that she could enjoy her time here instead of focusing on finding funds.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Killian says, sadly.

Emma gives a rueful smile. “It’s fine. I’m not sure anyone would have believed that I’m lost princess anyway. It was probably a stupid plan.”

“I would believe it,” Killian says, softly.

Her blonde hair, bright green eyes, and dimples - he would believe her to be the lost princess any day.

“Okay, Romeo.” Emma says with another eye roll. “Anyway, a student loan is better than a jail sentence. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I’m still sorry,” he says, “Let me make it up to you.”

She looks up and meets his eyes. Her fierce look falters for a minute and he sees something vulnerable in her gaze. There is loneliness there, hurt, and rejection.

There is a certain yearning there too.

Then she smiles good naturedly, “Well, I don’t really have any friends in Misthaven yet. So, you could buy me another cappuccino and we could talk about Blanche Neige for a little longer.”

Killian lets himself grin back at her. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot Emma.”

tagging some fans (people who i looked through their tags and found out they really liked it) // let me know if anyone wants to be added or subtracted:

@sambethe @kmomof4 @pocket-anon @hooked-mom @the-corsair-and-her-quill @kiwistreetswan@lenfazreads @princesseslikepirates @timeless-love-story