#might need to contact him on my other Emma’s account

[cyberr-v0id]

Guys Jonathan hasn’t contacted me yet I’m worried did he set off ok guys???

[jrob64]

It’s the 1st anniversary of ‘Lonely No More’ - A Modern CS AU Based on “The Words” Music Video

Today is the wonderful and wacky @xsajx ‘s birthday, which means it’s the first anniversary of the story I wrote for her last year! I hope you have a wonderful day, my friend!

Special thanks to @spartanguard who did the manip of Emma as a FedEx driver. Even after a year, it still blows me away!

Summary: Killian Jones lives alone in his secluded little house in the country, and that’s just the way he likes it. When he discovers he can have even less contact with people by ordering supplies online, he jumps at the chance; but the fiery blonde FedEx driver who delivers them might make him rethink his lonely existence. A CS fic based on the music video for “The Words” by Christina Perri.

Rating: M

Words: 11,744

Also on Ao3 & ffn

*********

Lonely No More

It was a lonely existence, but one he had voluntarily chosen for himself. Killian Jones knew about loneliness, after all; had lived it most of his life. His childhood was spent living in a crowded, dirty city in England, yet even among all those people, he sought solitude. He had his brother and his ailing mother, and didn’t need or want anyone else, including his mostly absentee father, who abandoned his sons for good once his wife died.

Now, he lived in Maine with lots of open space around him. His little house wasn’t anything fancy, but it had everything he needed. He spent his days chopping wood, taking care of his garden, and nurturing the orchids he grew for the flower shop located in a nearby city. The trips he made to deliver them and to purchase necessary supplies, provided the only interaction he desired with other people.

Books were his friends. Books held no expectations and didn’t make him feel self-conscious or uncomfortable. He could lose himself in sea adventures, jungle safaris, and space travel, or learn about horticulture, cooking and shipbuilding.

Recently, he splurged and purchased internet service. The florist had suggested it as a way for him to order his supplies online, instead of having to make an extra trip into the city to buy them. He also set up an email account, so she could let him know ahead of time how many plants she required.

Today he was awaiting his first delivery of floral supplies, along with two new books he was excited to read. He had to admit that having everything coming to him was going to be much more convenient.

As he was tying up the stems on an orchid plant he would be taking to the shop the next day, he looked out the sunroom window and noticed a cloud of dust being kicked up along his lane. He quickly snipped the ends of the thin strings and moved through his house to emerge onto his back steps.

The white FedEx truck was stopped beside his old pickup and Killian descended the stairs to meet the driver. He could hear noises coming from inside the vehicle and figured the delivery man was searching for his packages in the back. While he waited, he leaned on his truck’s tailgate and dug some potting soil from beneath his fingernails, so he was startled when he heard a woman’s voice say, “Do you know how freaking hard it is to find your house?”

His eyes shot up to take in the scowling blonde who was jumping out of the truck to the ground, balancing two packages in her hands.

“Excuse me?” he asked, his voice sounding strange to his own ears.

She rolled her eyes. “I said, your house is almost impossible to find! I’ve been driving around for fifteen minutes and now I’m behind getting these deliveries made. Why don’t you have your house number on your mailbox or something?”

“I…I guess I’ve never thought of doing that.”

Her green eyes flashed. “Well, you should think about it! If you’re gonna live out here in the boonies, you could at least make it easier on delivery drivers!”

“I’ll take that into consideration.”

She nodded her head in satisfaction, then looked at the label on the top package. “You are Killian Jones, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She glared at him. “Seriously? I’m more than likely younger than you and you’re calling me ma’am?”

“Umm…”

“Emma.”

“Pardon me?”

“Whenever you order anything, I’ll probably be the one making the delivery, so you might as well know my name; it’s Emma Swan.”

“Oh. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Emma Swan, and I’m very sorry that my house was difficult for you to find. I also apologize for causing you to be delayed.”

A smile crossed her face and Killian felt like the sun had suddenly broken through the clouds. “Thanks. I only have four more deliveries to make anyway, so it’s not that bad.”

Killian realized she was still holding his boxes. “Here, let me take those. I’m sure you need to be going.”

She handed the packages to him and gave him another smile. “Yeah, I do. Now that I know where you live, I won’t need to yell at you next time, okay?”

“I would appreciate that, lass, er um, Emma.”

“I can live with ‘lass’,” she laughed, turning to head back to the truck.

Killian stood slack jawed, wondering why her laugh had such an effect on him.

She climbed onto her seat, started the engine, and called out to him, “Will I see you soon, Killian Jones?”

“Oh, uh, y-yes. I’ll probably be ordering supplies on a regular basis.”

“Okay. Until next time!”

He shifted the packages so he could raise his arm to wave, then watched the white vehicle disappear down the long lane.

*********

Killian laid on his side in bed, staring at the book in front of him, but unable to concentrate on the words. He flopped onto his back and ran his hand over his face and through his hair. Images of flashing green eyes and blonde tresses preoccupied his thoughts and he couldn’t seem to shake them.

Perhaps it was because he had so little interaction with other people, but he never reacted to the few he did meet the way he had with Emma Swan. He knew it was absurd to be so affected by someone he met for such a brief time, but there was just something about her that captured his attention.

He folded his arms behind his head, his white T-shirt stretching across his chest as he sighed. He could still hear the pleasant sound of her laughter, as well as her melodic voice - when she wasn’t yelling at him.

Giving up on doing any reading, he closed the book and placed it on the nightstand, then switched off the lamp. When he finally managed to drift off to sleep, his dreams were filled with flowing golden hair and sparkling emerald eyes.

*********

Grocery shopping was one thing Killian despised and would put off until there was barely any food left in the house. The day he realized he could buy most of his groceries online was a happy one for him.

As he checked the cupboards and made a list of items he needed, he couldn’t help but look forward to the next day delivery guaranteed by his upgraded membership. Since FedEx was named as the preferred delivery method, he knew his excitement stemmed from more than just having his food supply replenished.

The next morning, he felt the unprecedented need to dress in his best blue checkered flannel shirt with a gray henley underneath. He set out for the back of his property to chop a bundle of firewood, stopping often to survey the vehicles passing by on the highway in the distance, hoping to catch a glimpse of the white truck with the distinctive orange and dark purple logo on the side.

After carrying the wood to his house and stacking it on the porch, Killian puttered around inside; oiling a squeaky hinge, fixing the leaky bathroom faucet, and nailing down a loose floorboard in his bedroom. In between jobs, he looked out the window, checking the lane for any approaching delivery trucks.

He heated up leftover beef stew for lunch, dipping pieces of soft, white bread into the rich broth. As he ate, he flipped through a magazine, trying to find an article of interest to help distract him from thinking about her.

By mid-afternoon, he was beginning to wonder if the delivery tracking app was wrong when it showed that his packages were supposed to be delivered that day. He was outside stacking crates in the bed of his truck and folding the green tarp he used for covering the flowers, when he saw the cloud of dust at the end of his lane. His traitorous heart began to beat faster as he spotted the FedEx truck headed his way.

Not wanting to appear too eager, he finished his task and placed the tarp in the cab of his pickup, while the delivery truck came to a stop. When he glanced up, he saw the flash of a blonde ponytail disappearing into the back storage area.

By the time he walked over to stand beside the white vehicle, Emma had emerged with two large boxes balanced on top of one another. She stepped carefully onto the ground and Killian hurried to take them from her. He had assumed they weren’t heavy since she didn’t seem to struggle carrying them, but was surprised to realize the combined weight of the two boxes was rather substantial.

“How are you today, Miss Swan?” he asked politely.

“I’m fine, Mister Jones,” she smirked. “My name is Emma, remember?”

He knew he would have been nervously scratching behind his ear if his hands were empty. As it was, he felt the heat moving up his neck. “I didn’t want to be too forward.”

“So you’re a gentleman, huh?”

“Indeed I am.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have told you my name if I didn’t want you to use it.”

Killian smiled. “Duly noted.”

“I notice you have your house number added on your mailbox now.”

“Aye, better late than never, I suppose.”

Emma laughed, which caused his heart to speed up just like the last time. “All of your other delivery drivers will appreciate it, too.’

“There are no others. You’re my one and only,” he blurted, then wished the earth would open beneath his feet to swallow him.

“That’s good to know,” Emma laughed, stepping back up into her truck. “Have a good day, Killian.”

“You too, lass. Drive carefully.”

“Yes, Dad,” she grinned, then put the truck into gear and waved.

Realizing his hands were full, instead of waving, he nodded his head and graced her with one of his rare smiles, which she returned before driving away.

He carried the packages into the house, with the smile still on his face.

*********

Usually, Killian was content when he went days on end without going into the city or having any interaction with other human beings; but as the week after the delivery of his groceries progressed, he felt restless. He found himself searching the shopping app for items which would be useful, even though they weren’t necessary.

He knew he shouldn’t spend money on frivolous purchases, but since he had more than enough savings in the bank, he didn’t really feel guilty about buying a few things. Still, his finger hovered over the ‘place order’ button for several seconds before he finally tapped it.

That evening as he soaked in his vintage, claw-footed bathtub, he started having second thoughts about what he had done. He couldn’t believe he ordered things he didn’t need just so he would get to see Emma again.

Laying his head back on the rim of the tub, he sighed deeply. He was probably reading too much into her friendliness and was sure she treated all the other people on her delivery route the same way.

He leaned forward and scooped water into his cupped hands, then splashed it over his face and through his hair. Regardless of whether or not he had done the right thing, his order would arrive tomorrow.

As he pulled the plug to drain the tub, climbed out and began to dry off, he came to the conclusion that his excitement over having Emma arrive in her FedEx truck was because of the novelty of having packages delivered to his house, instead of having to make the trip into town. Perhaps seeing her would become routine, and soon his heart wouldn’t race every time he saw the delivery truck coming up his lane.

*********

“This is getting to be a habit,” Emma remarked, hopping down out of the truck with a small package in her hand.

Killian’s fingers found the spot behind his ear which always seemed to itch when he felt awkward. “Aye. I’m sure you’d rather not have to make deliveries all the way out here.”

“I really don’t mind, Killian.”

His hand brushed against hers as he reached to take the box, and the feel of her soft skin caused a tingling sensation to travel through his fingers. He noticed she wasn’t quick to pull her hand back and he lifted his eyes to look into her face. She was wearing a soft smile that he couldn’t imagine she gave to all of her other customers.

He felt her fingers slowly glide against his as she finally let go of the package and stepped back.

“I guess I’d better be on my way,” she remarked. “Do you, uh, will you have more orders arriving soon?”

“Oh, um, I…I don’t know. Possibly. I forgot a few things when I ordered my groceries last week.”

Her smile brightened. “Great! I’ll see you before long, then. Goodbye, Killian!”

“Goodbye, Emma.”

“Don’t worry - I’ll drive carefully!” she quipped before taking off.

He shook his head at her banter and stood in the driveway, until the dust created by her vehicle had completely settled.

*********

Killian was amazed at how light his heart felt in the following days. When he made his bi-weekly trip to the flower shop to deliver his pots of orchids, the florist noticed.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” she commented. “I mean, not that you’re usually grumpy or anything, but you just seem…different.”

“Do I?” he asked. “Well, this batch of flowers is of exceptionally good quality, so perhaps that’s the reason.”

She threw him a skeptical look, but didn’t make any further comments as she wrote a check for him.

*********

Killian had become engrossed in repotting some plants and wasn’t waiting outside when Emma made a delivery the following week. By the time he glanced up to see the familiar truck sitting in his driveway, she was already striding toward the door carrying a large box.

He quickly brushed his hands off over his workbench, then rubbed them down the front of his jeans. She knocked on the door just as he reached it.

“Did you forget I was coming?” she smirked through the screen door.

“No, I was just working.”

“You work from home?”

“You could say that. I grow specialty flowers to supply a florist in the city.”

While he was talking, she was peeking in the window beside the door, which looked into his sunroom. “Oh, wow! You grow those? They’re gorgeous!”

“Would you, um, would you like to come in and see them more closely, or are you not supposed to go into your customers’ homes?”

“We’re strongly encouraged not to, mostly for our own safety, but I trust you, Killian Jones.”

A bright smile stretched across his face as he pushed the screen door open, being careful not to accidentally bump her with it. “Come on in.”

She stepped into the house, glancing around for a couple of seconds before following him into the sunroom. He took the package from her hands, laid it on a chair, then stood back as she walked around his workbench, marveling over the beauty of the orchids.

After she walked completely around it, he began telling her about some of the complexities of growing the fragile flowers. She listened attentively, hesitantly reaching out to lightly stroke her fingers over the silky petals.

When she realized she had been there for over five minutes, she declared that she had to get back to work. As she made her way to the door, he plucked one of the stray blooms off of the bench.

“Swan?” he said, causing her to stop in her tracks and look back at him.

He stepped over to her and shyly held the bloom out, then ducked his head and scratched at the back of it after she took it.

“Thank you, Killian. It’s beautiful.” She twirled the stem between her fingers and looked up at him from under her lashes. “You’re very talented.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that…”

“I do. And you’re also very sweet.”

As the tips of his ears reddened, she turned, pushed the door open and made her way to the truck. He watched through the screen to see her gently lay the flower on the dashboard before driving off.

*********

The next time the FedEx truck came rumbling up the lane, Killian was sitting on his back steps, bundled in his olive green, Sherpa lined coat, and wearing a heather blue infinity scarf around his neck. It was a Thursday towards the end of October; the last leaves were clinging to the bare branches of the trees, and a front had moved through, dropping the temperatures with the first true cold snap of Autumn.

He stood up as the truck stopped and strode over to stand beside it, waiting for Emma to emerge from the back with his latest purchase. When she did, he sensed a difference in her demeanor immediately. The slight smile she had pasted on her face wasn’t natural and didn’t reach her eyes.

As soon as she handed him the box, she mumbled, “Here you go, Killian. Have a good day,” and began to climb back into the driver’s seat.

“Emma, wait,” he called, causing her to pause before getting behind the steering wheel. “Is something wrong?”

She stood stock still for several moments and he wondered if she was warring with herself about whether to confide in him or not. He gave her time, not wanting to pressure her into saying something, but hoping she would, since something was clearly bothering her.

Finally, she turned back to face him with tears shining in her eyes. “To-today is my birthday…”

Automatically he responded, “Happy birthday, Swan!” then realized two tears had escaped the confines of her lower eyelids and were tracking down her cheeks. He carelessly tossed the package he was holding onto the open tailgate of his pickup and closed the space between them.

Acting on instinct, he reached up to brush the tears off her cheeks, and the simple gesture seemed to break the dam. A few more tears fell as Killian implored, “Emma, what is it? Tell me what’s wrong.”

After several seconds, she took a deep, shuddering breath and wiped her face with her sleeve. “I’m sorry, Killian,” she whispered in a tear-thickened voice.

“You have no reason to be sorry, lass, but perhaps you could share whatever it is that’s burdening you. Is it something to do with your birthday?”

She kept her head down, as she explained, “I just…I don’t have any family - never have - and it’s hard every time my birthday comes around, because all it does is remind me that it’s been another banner year of being alone. I wish…I wish…you know what, I’ll be okay. Forget it.”

“Making a wish is one of the traditions of birthdays, I believe,” he observed. “Please tell me your wish, Emma.”

Raising her head at last, she looked at him with a sad smile, “I wish I didn’t have to be by myself on my birthday.”

“I can help make that happen, if you’ll allow me.”

“Killian, no. I didn’t tell you this so you would feel sorry for me.”

“What I feel for you is empathy, Swan. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit of a recluse. I have no remaining family myself, and I haven’t gone out of my way to make any friends since moving here from England several years ago. I would be happy to keep you company on your birthday.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am. Would you feel comfortable coming here to have dinner with me?”

“Um, sure. Do you want me to bring take-out from somewhere?”

He rubbed his finger behind his ear. “I thought I might cook the meal. I’m no chef, but I can hold my own. Do you have any food allergies?”

Her smile brightened. “Umm…no, no allergies, and I’m excited to taste your cooking! Is there anything I can bring?”

“Just yourself. Shall we say seven o’clock?”

“That works for me. I should probably go, so I can finish the rest of my deliveries. Thanks so much, Killian - I’ll see you later!”

“One moment, Swan. Perhaps I should, uh, perhaps we could trade phone numbers, just in case…”

“In case you want to cancel?” she asked, trying and failing, to make it sound like a joke as her smile faltered.

“Of course not. I just thought it would be a good idea to have each other’s number. That way, if you’re running late, you can call so I won’t worry.”

“Oh, okay. Let me put my number into your phone, then you can send me a text and I’ll have yours.”

Once that was done, Emma bounced up the steps of her truck and dropped into the seat. “See you tonight!” she called as she slid the door shut, fastened her seat belt, and drove off.

He watched her go with a fond smile on his face, then hurried into the house to decide what to make for her birthday dinner.

*********

By the time Killian saw headlights coming up the lane, he was pulling dinner rolls out of the oven while the loaded potato soup simmered on the stove. He stepped out onto his back porch to see a yellow Volkswagen come to a stop, and heard the hinges screech in protest when she threw open the door to climb out. She tried to close it, but it wouldn’t shut completely, so she bumped it with her hip in a move he was sure she used on a regular basis.

Turning toward him, he could see the beaming smile on her face - quite a different countenance than she’d had earlier in the day.

“Good evening, Love,” Killian greeted. Even in the low light, he saw her brows raise at his use of the term.

“Hello again, Killian,” she returned, brushing past him as he held the door open for her. “Wow! Something smells delicious!”

He held her coat as she shrugged out of it, then hung it on a hook in the entryway. “I hope you like salad and loaded potato soup.”

“I like anything, pretty much. If I was home tonight, I would probably be having leftover pizza from last week. Potato soup sounds like heaven to me!”

They moved into the kitchen where he pulled a chair out for her at his small table, went to the stove to ladle soup into two bowls, then sprinkled shredded cheddar cheese on top. He placed them on the table where the basket of rolls and plates of salad were already waiting.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer you in the way of drinks,” he apologized. “I wish I had some wine or…”

“No problem. Water is fine with me.”

He took two glasses from the cupboard, dropped some ice cubes in, then filled them with water from the faucet.

Emma was stirring her soup, inhaling deeply. “I can’t wait to try this - it smells so freaking good!” she declared.

He chuckled. “Well, dig in then, Swan,” and watched her surreptitiously as she did.

“Mmmm…” she moaned after taking her first bite. “This tastes amazing!”

Her moan sent a warm sensation through his body, and he cleared his throat before speaking so his voice wouldn’t betray the wash of longing it set off in him. “I’m, uh, I’m glad you like it.”

“Did you actually make this, or have you hidden the cans you opened somewhere?”

“No cans to hide - I made it from scratch, and I grew the vegetables for the salad in my greenhouse garden out back,” he grinned, tearing off a hunk of bread to dip into his bowl.

She watched him before doing the same. “How about the rolls? Did you make them, too?”

“Ah, now those I just warmed in the oven. I had them in my freezer.”

“Oh, you just burst my bubble, Jones. I thought you were a master chef and baker!”

“Well, I didn’t have room in the oven to make both fresh rolls and your birthday cake, so I chose to make the cake,” he smirked.

Her eyes grew wide and she laid her spoon on the table. “You…you made a cake for me?” she gasped.

He slowly nodded his head. “Aye, and I hope you like chocolate. It’s a recipe of my mum’s and it’s my favorite. I also made buttercream frosting for it.”

“I love chocolate! I can’t believe you did that!”

“Well, everyone should have a cake for their birthday, although I don’t usually bother to make one for myself.”

“Do you know what I did last year? I bought myself a cupcake and a little blue star candle and took them to my apartment. Then I stuck the candle in the cupcake, lit it, made a wish and blew it out.”

“Did your wish come true?”  

She looked him in the eye. “I wished I could have someone in my life to talk to, even if it was only one person. It’s one of the reasons I started working for FedEx. I thought if I was making deliveries to different houses, I would meet people, but most of the time, they’re too busy to talk, or they don’t answer my knock, so I just leave the packages at their door. Then I started coming here and, well, I guess you could say you made my wish come true, Killian.”

He ducked his head and busied himself with stirring his soup. “You’ve done the same for me, Swan. It gets lonely out here by myself, but I have no desire to live in the city. I enjoy chatting with you when you deliver my purchases, and I, uh…I have a confession to make.”

“What’s that?”

She waited for his answer while watching his ears turning red. “I…well…I’ve been ordering things I really don’t even need, just so I can see you.”

Reaching across the table, she covered his hand with her own. “I think that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He raised his eyes. “You do?”

She nodded.

“I have another confession to make,” he admitted. She squeezed his hand to encourage him. “I, uh, I asked for your phone number because I thought perhaps I could call you in between the deliveries you make out here.”

“I’d like that, Killian. I hope you won’t mind if I call you sometimes, too?”

“That would be nice, Emma.” They shared a smile, then he observed, “Perhaps we should finish our soup before it gets cold.”

*********

After they finished their dinner, Killian carried the cake in, along with dessert plates and clean forks.

Setting the cake in front of her, he apologized, “I’m sorry I don’t have any birthday candles. I’ve never had any need for them.“

“Maybe you should order some to be delivered,” she smirked, and he laughed.

“If I did have candles, how many would be necessary?” he asked hesitantly.

“Are you trying to ask me how old I am, Jones?”

He shrugged. “Maybe?”

She giggled, causing him to grin. “I’m twenty-nine.”

He began cutting the cake into large squares, then lifted a piece out of the pan to place on one of the plates. As she watched him, she inquired, “When is your birthday, Killian?”

“In January.”

“And you’ll be…?”

“Thirty-three. I’ve got a few years on you.” He laid a fork on the plate, slid it across the table to her, then set to work plating a piece for himself.

“Less than four. That’s hardly anything,” she commented.

Once he was seated again, he looked at the beautiful woman across from him. “Even though you don’t have a candle to blow out, would you still like to make a wish, Love?”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes and concentrated, until a smile crossed her face. When her eyes blinked open again, she saw him watching her. “You know I can’t tell you what I wished for or it won’t come true.”

He reached across the table to give her fingers a squeeze. “I truly hope it does.”

They ate their cake, with Emma exclaiming over how delicious it tasted. When they finished, she tried to help him clean up, but he wouldn’t hear of it. “I’ll just clear away the leftovers, then take care of the dishes tomorrow.”

He insisted on sending some of the food home with her, giving her a generous amount of soup, three rolls, and several pieces of cake, all of which he packaged and put into a cardboard box.

“I seem to have a lot of these piling up, for some reason,” he quipped, and she rolled her eyes with a grin.

Soon all the food was squared away and the two of them stood together in the kitchen, feeling a little awkward.

“Would you, um, would you like to watch some television?” he asked.

“I should probably go home. I have to work tomorrow.”

“Oh, yes, okay. Well, I’m very happy you were able to come over tonight.”

“So am I, and I can’t thank you enough, Killian. This is the best birthday I’ve had for as long as I can remember!”

“It was my pleasure, Emma. Oh, by the way, I have a gift for you before you go.”

“You don’t have to give me anything; you already made a delicious meal and cake for me.”

He took her hand and tugged her along behind him into his sunroom. “I want to do this, Swan,” he told her, stopping in front of his work table, on which sat an orchid with pale pink blooms. He picked it up and turned to hand it to her. “Happy birthday, Love.”

“Killian, I…I can’t take this! You grow these for the florist…”

“I grow these to share with people,” he interrupted, “and I can think of nobody with whom I’d rather share this one.”

She set it back on the table and wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He returned her hug, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling her scent.

When they finally separated, he held her coat for her as she slid her arms into it, then carried the box to her car while she carefully handled the plant. They placed everything on the passenger side floor, making sure the flower was secure.

As they stood in front of the driver’s door, Killian remarked, “That’s quite the vessel you captain there, Swan.”

“It’s paid for and it gets me where I need to go.”

“Ah, of course.”

He dropped his eyes shyly, until he heard her say, “Well, I guess I should get going. Thanks again for everything, Killian.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Both of them remained still for several moments, not quite knowing how to end the evening. Finally, Killian said, “I’d, uh…I’d like to see you again, if that’s okay. I mean, besides you coming here to make deliveries. Would you be interested in going out on a proper date?”

Emma graced him with a brilliant smile. “I would like that very much.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow evening to set something up. Perhaps dinner and a movie?”

“Sounds good! I’ll look forward to it!”

Stepping forward, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, but before she could move away from him, he put his hands on her waist and pulled her closer. Looking into her moonlit eyes, he saw acceptance for what he was planning to do, and in the next moment, his lips found hers.  

The kiss was gentle and sweet, and he could feel her breath quicken as his lips glided over hers. After a blissful few seconds, he reluctantly broke the kiss, licked his lips, and smiled at her.

“Goodnight, Emma. Drive safely.”

“I will. Goodnight, Killian.”

He opened the door for her, and closed it once she was settled behind the wheel with her seatbelt fastened, bumping it with his hip as he had seen her do, to make sure it was latched.

She gave him another smile and a wave as the engine rumbled to life, then turned the car around and started down the lane. Killian went back into his house, still smiling to himself, not realizing that with his kiss, he had already made Emma’s latest birthday wish come true.

*********

After spending the following day watching the clock until he knew Emma would be home, Killian was true to his word and called her. They arranged to go out the next evening to a nice, quiet, out-of-the-way diner outside the city.

Just before ending the call, he suggested wearing casual, warm clothes for the second part of their date. He thought of something to do after dinner besides a movie, but wanted to make the suggestion face-to-face with Emma, to get her honest reaction. He did ask her if she liked horror movies or if she scared easily, because he didn’t want to put her in an awkward situation during their date. She assured him that she enjoyed things that got her heart racing.

On Saturday, he made a delivery of flowers to the florist in the city, then spent a couple of hours cleaning out his pickup truck and washing it. He wished he had a more luxurious vehicle, but he knew she probably wouldn’t care, considering the car she drove.

It felt like time was moving at a snail’s pace all afternoon. He took a bath, trimmed his beard, and dressed in jeans, boots and a heavy red and black plaid flannel shirt. Then he spent some time figuring out the best route to take to her apartment, not putting his trust in his phone’s GPS, and checked his appearance several times before the clock finally showed it was time to leave.

It had been years since he last went on a date, and he hadn’t been on one at all since moving to Maine. Going out with women always made him feel awkward and anxious, so it became something he chose to forgo. Tonight, however, he surprised himself with how much he was looking forward to going out with Emma.

He pulled up to the curb in front of her apartment building almost ten minutes early, so instead of going in and knocking on her door, he sat in his truck, fidgeting and repeatedly smoothing the hair on the back of his head.

When his phone dinged with a text message, he grinned as he read it. You don’t have to sit in your truck until the exact time, you know. I’ve been ready for over an hour.

He exited the truck and looked up at the third floor, spotting her standing in one of the windows, waving at him. He grinned in return, then entered the building and took the elevator to her floor. She opened the door before he even had a chance to knock, wearing a bright, though slightly nervous, smile.

“Swan, you look…stunning,” he said sincerely, pulling a bouquet of Autumn flowers from behind his back, and causing her smile to grow wider.

“Oh, Killian! They’re gorgeous! Fall colors are my favorite! Come in so I can put these in some water.” She stepped off to the side of the doorway to usher him in, taking the bouquet from his hand and automatically bringing it up to her nose.

“Look, I haven’t killed the plant you gave me yet,” she said proudly, using her free hand to gesture toward a small table in front of the window, on which sat her birthday orchid.  

“That’s good. I think if you had, it might be a new world’s record for murder of a plant!” he chuckled.

He could hear her rattling around in her small kitchen, opening and closing cupboards, followed by the sound of running water. When she emerged, she held a bright yellow plastic pitcher with the flowers inside.

“I’ve never gotten flowers before, so I don’t have a vase,” she explained, setting the pitcher on the table beside the orchid.

“You’ll need to cut the stems diagonally under running water and trim the leaves off below the water line; that makes cut flowers last a little longer,” he informed her. “There’s a little packet of plant food tucked in there to sprinkle in the water, too.”

“Should I do it right now?”

“No, it can wait until later. Are you ready to go?”

“Is this okay for what you have planned?” She swept her hand downward, indicating her dark jeans, knee-high boots, black and white striped sweater, and dark red, fleece-lined coat.

“It’s perfect. The Weather Channel says it’s only supposed to get down into the low fifties tonight, so you should be warm enough.”

“The Weather Channel, huh? What are you, like sixty years old?” She laughed as he rolled his eyes, then added, “You have me very curious about what we’re going to do.”

He opened the apartment door and allowed her to lead the way into the hall. “Right now, we’re going to eat dinner,” he teased.

“Yeah, I figured that out, Sherlock. I was talking about after we’re done eating.”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he assured her, following a step behind as she walked down the stairs.

*********

The diner was a cozy little nook which wasn’t too crowded, and allowed them to have an uninterrupted conversation all through dinner. Killian was a bit shocked with how easily he was able to talk to her, after being alone for so many years and having limited contact with other people. She was a good listener and had him laughing with stories of some of her delivery mishaps.

At the end of their meal, he asked if she would like to have dessert or coffee. “Actually, I’d like some hot chocolate,” she said, “with lots of whipped cream and a sprinkling of cinnamon.”

“That sounds…interesting.”

She saw his raised brows. “What?”

He opened his mouth, then hesitated before responding, “Nothing.”

“Don’t knock it until you try it, buddy.”

“I’m feeling adventurous tonight.”

When the waitress brought the beverages out, he took a tentative sip, then gave a whipped cream-enhanced smile. “Not bad, Swan.”

“Told ya,” she gloated. “So when are you gonna tell me where we’re going next? I’ve been very patient.”

“Indeed you have. I’m not sure how you’ll feel about this, so if it’s something you’d rather not do, don’t be afraid to tell me.” She nodded her agreement, and he went on. “I found a farm a few miles from my house which offers haunted hayrides through the woods.”

Her eyes lit up. “Really? That sounds like fun! What time does it start?”

“The first one is at eight o-clock and there’s one every forty minutes until midnight. We should be able to go on the third one of the night.”

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go get the begeezus scared out of us!”

He chuckled at her enthusiasm. “We still have time to finish our cocoa, Emma.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m just so excited! I’ve never been on a hayride of any kind before, let alone a haunted one!”

Killian was happy he was getting to witness some of her first experiences that evening, and that she was so receptive to his idea. He had worried that she would think it was a silly and childish thing to do.

Every moment he spent with the fiery blonde had him becoming more and more fond of her, and when the voices in his head started chanting that he could get hurt, he shut them up immediately. He was tired of being lonely, and was ready to take a chance with this woman, who was already well on her way to capturing his heart.  

*********

The couple enjoyed the hayride, which turned out to be more humorous than scary. Emma had trouble controlling her giggles as people dressed as zombies with bad make-up jumped out at them from the woods with chainless chainsaws, rubber knives and fake machetes.

Killian didn’t mind the occasions when she was startled, because she kept jumping closer to him on the hay bale on which they were sitting. By the time the half-hour ride was over, he had his arm around her, holding her close against his side.

Before leaving the farm, they purchased hot apple cider and caramel popcorn and took it back to his house.

“Would you like to watch a movie, Swan, or will that make it too late for you to get home?” Killian asked, showing her into his living room.

“I can get home after midnight; I won’t turn into a pumpkin…or a zombie,” she smirked.

“Shall we continue on with the scary theme?”

“That’s fine with me. I like horror movies, but I don’t really enjoy watching them by myself.”

They chose a movie from Hulu together and sat on the couch as they watched, munching popcorn and sipping their cider. About an hour into the movie, when the food was gone, Emma gravitated toward where he was sitting and was soon leaning against him. He encouraged her snuggling by wrapping his arm around her shoulder and resting his cheek on the top of her head.

Killian was not a person who welcomed human contact - most of the time he would avoid it if possible. So he was surprised to realize he not only enjoyed Emma’s body being close to his, but almost craved her touch. Several times she hid her face in his chest when she knew a particularly scary scene was coming and he held her tighter, boldly pressing kisses into her hair.

When the movie ended, he reluctantly released her, allowing her to sit up. She turned to look at him and he asked, “Did you like it, Love?”

“The movie or the date?”

“Both, I guess?” he shrugged.

Instead of answering, she leaned in and kissed him. His eyes widened in surprise at first, then he let out a happy sigh and allowed his lips to caress hers in return. He felt the fingers of one of her hands find their way into the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck, while the other slid up his arm to squeeze his bicep.

His hands didn’t stay idle, as he ran them from her waist to massage her back. He lost himself in the kiss and found himself wishing it wouldn’t end. When it did, he drew back to look into her shining eyes, then dove back in for more.

Finally, they both had a need for air and separated, though they maintained contact with their foreheads pressed together.

“Can I take that as a yes?” he grinned.

“It is most definitely a yes,” she assured him. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve had such a good time!”

“You didn’t find the haunted hayride to be a bit feeble?”

“I loved it! This date was so much fun, Killian. I truly have enjoyed every minute of it…especially the last few,” she added, winking at him.

He laughed deep in his throat and pulled her in for another hug. “I’ve had a really good time, too,” he murmured against her temple. “Would you be interested in going out again?”

“I’m assuming you mean with you?”

“That was kind of the idea, yes.”

She pressed her lips to his again. When she pulled back after several sweet moments, he licked his lips and said, “Not that I’m complaining, Love, but do you ever just answer with a yes or no?”

She threw her head back and laughed, and he took the opportunity to scatter small kisses along the creamy skin of her throat. Her sudden intake of breath told him the effect they had on her.

“I…I would love to go out with you again, Killian; more than once, if possible.”

“I think that’s entirely possible.” He settled her against his chest once more and they sat comfortably together, her fingers finding the gold chain around his neck, while his stroked up and down her upper arm.

The chimes of his grandfather clock signaled the hour of one o’clock and he reluctantly sat up and put some space between them. “I’d better get you home, Swan.”

She heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I guess so. You probably need your beauty sleep.”

“It’s how I retain my youthful glow,” he responded cheekily.

She laughed again and he realized he could listen to that sound for hours on end, if given the chance.

Killian went out to start the truck while Emma put her boots and coat back on. Soon they were on the road back to her place.

“Do you like living in the city?” he inquired as they drove along the highway.

“Not really, but I’m not lucky enough to own a house out in the country.”

“Lucky is a good word for it. I happened to be in the right place at the right time to purchase it, and got it for a steal. It’s quiet and far away from other people, so it has plenty of privacy, which I value.”

“I figured that out by the number of things you order so you won’t have to make trips into the city.”

He glanced over at her with a shy smile. “I don’t allow many people in, Emma. In the past, I’ve found it very difficult to trust them, because they always let me down.”

“I can identify with that.”

“You, uh, you said you never had a family…”

“Nope. I was abandoned at birth and never got adopted.”

“Ah, I see. I actually had a family, but my mum died when I was very young, my father abandoned my brother Liam and me, then Liam was killed in an accident. I’ve been alone for nearly fifteen years now.”

“It sucks, doesn’t it?”

“Aye, but I’ve gotten used to it.”

Silence fell for a while as the truck passed three mile markers. Finally, Emma broke it by quietly asking, “Do you think you would like being a little less lonely?”

He glanced over at her before directing his eyes back to the dark road. “I would if it meant we were being less lonely together.”

*********

When they arrived at her apartment building, Killian hopped out of his side of the truck and hurried around it to open her door, taking her hand as she exited and not letting it go. They took their time walking up the three flights of stairs, exchanging few words, but numerous smiles with each other.

“Do you want to come in?” she asked as they stopped outside her apartment door.

“I might want to, but I really should get back home.”

“Busy day tomorrow?”

“Not really, but I was planning on calling a certain lovely lady at some point in the day.”

“Lucky girl.”

He moved closer to kiss her briefly. “I guess you are.”

Looping her arms around his neck, she initiated another kiss, this one lasting far longer. Pulling back at last, she said, “I had such a good time tonight, Killian. Everything about it was perfect.”

“I’m very happy to hear it. Shall we do it again soon?”

“I would really like that. Will I, um, will I be making any deliveries to you this week?”

“I do have some floral supplies ordered.”

“Good.”

They shared another lengthy kiss before he stepped back. “Goodnight, Emma.”

“Goodnight, Killian.” Unlocking and opening her door, she threw him one last dazzling smile, then walked inside and closed it behind her.

He stood leaning against the wall for a few more moments, then blew out a breath and touched his fingers to his lips, remembering the way they tingled when they were touching hers.

********

In the following weeks, Emma and Killian called or texted each other daily, and went on several more dates, using every opportunity to get to know one another better. He looked forward to the days when she made a delivery to his house, since it gave him another chance to see her briefly.

It became more and more difficult for him to say goodbye to her at her apartment after their dates. Sometimes he would accept her invitation for hot chocolate and they would talk and kiss for an hour or so, but he never pushed it any further. He wanted her to know that he respected her and would wait until she decided the time was right to take their budding relationship to the next level.                                                                                                          

Christmas was quickly approaching and the couple had been dating for nearly two months. Early one evening, Killian was beginning to worry when Emma wasn’t answering his phone calls or texts. He knew it was past time for her to be home from work, and because there had been periods of freezing rain throughout the day, he started to imagine the worst when he thought of her having to drive her delivery route on icy roads.

He was pacing back and forth across the kitchen, hoping his phone would light up with her name, when headlights illuminated the room. Knowing there was only one person it could possibly be, he threw on a coat, hurried out the back door, and jogged down the steps.

She was bumping her car door closed with her hip as he reached her. “Swan, what are you doing here at this time of night? Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. I just have a delivery to make.”

“A delivery? I don’t think I’m expecting anything. What is it?”

She took a step forward and ran her hands up his chest. “Me.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise and it took a second for what she was saying to register. When it did, he put his hands on her hips and pulled her closer. “Is that right?”

Looping her arms around his neck, she ghosted her lips against his as she said, “Yes, it is.”

“Shall we go inside, Love?”

She leaned back and looked into his eyes. “Just so we’re clear, Killian - when we go inside, I want more than one of our usual make-out sessions, no matter how much I enjoy them. Is that…is that okay with you?”

“Well, it would be rather rude of me to reject such a special delivery,” he chuckled a little nervously. Then he grew more serious. “Emma, I…it’s been a long time since I was in any kind of relationship, and it didn’t end well. I don’t want to…to…what I mean is…”

She took his hand and started leading him to the house. “Let’s talk inside. I’m freezing.”

After shedding their coats and boots, they sat together on the couch with their fingers intertwined. “What were you trying to tell me, Killian?” she asked, watching his thumb rub over her knuckle.

“The last woman I dated broke my heart. That’s one of the main reasons why I made the decision to leave England all those years ago, and I haven’t dated since. So what I’m trying to say is, I’m out of practice.”

She twisted in her seat, and the next thing he knew, she had flung her leg over his lap and was straddling him. Her hands came up to the sides of his face and she leaned her forehead against his.

“I’ve heard it’s like riding a bicycle,” she said. He chuckled and she sat back to look at him. “My sexual experiences have been very few and far between, too, but we can figure it out together. If you want to, that is.”

“Oh, I want to, Emma - that’s not the problem at all. It’s just that, in the past…”

She put two fingers over his lips. “Let the past stay in the past - those are ghosts we can’t control. This is now, and I want you. I know the scariest part is letting go, but I’m yours to choose, so why don’t you take what’s right in front of you, Killian?”

He contemplated what she said for less than two seconds before surging forward to engage her in a passionate kiss. It grew increasingly heated until he felt that if he didn’t do something soon, he was going to internally combust.

He wrapped her securely in his arms and pushed to his feet, not breaking contact with her lips. Her legs automatically went around his waist and she moaned deeply into his mouth, causing him to nearly stumble.

His bedroom seemed so much farther away than the few steps it actually was, but when he finally made it to the edge of his bed, he eased her onto it gently. Then he stood looking down at her as she reached for him, her hair spread out in a tangled halo, her lips kiss-swollen, and her eyes dark with desire.

“Killian, please,” she panted, “I need you.”

Her fingers scrambled for the button of his jeans before he stilled them with his hands. “I…I don’t have any protection,” he admitted. “I’ve been meaning to get some, but…”

“I’m covered and clean. Been on the pill for months to regulate my cycle,” she explained, pulling her hands free. “Do you have any other excuses?”

“No, no excuses. There is just something I need to tell you. I know this may be too soon for you to hear, but I want to say it so you understand this isn’t just a one-time thing, to scratch an itch.”

She swallowed hard as she looked into his eyes, the expression in them so intense she was almost afraid to find out what he was going to say. “What is it?” she managed to ask.

“I…Emma…I’m in love with you,” he stated, tenderly brushing her hair away from her face.

“Y-you are?” she squeaked.

“Utterly and completely. I think I have been ever since the moment you yelled at me during that first delivery you made. I’ve been wanting to tell you, but I didn’t know how, and I didn’t want to take this next step before I did.”

“You actually love me?” she asked, with disbelief lacing her words.

“Aye, Sweetheart. I love your sense of humor, your determination, your boldness, and your stubborn streak.” She grinned at that. “I also love your ability to see past the walls I’ve built to keep people out, in order to see the lonely person inside. No one has ever made the effort to do that before.” He paused a moment, before continuing, “But don’t worry, Love. I’m not telling you this to pressure you into saying…”

“I love you, Killian.”

“…it,” he finished, a look of awe crossing his face. “Do you really?”

“Yes. At least, I think I do, if this is what being in love feels like. I’ve never felt it before. All I know is that I think about you all the time…”

“Same.”

“And every time I talk to you, my heart races and…”

“I can’t stop smiling.”

“Exactly! And whenever you touch me, it’s like my skin is…is…”

“Like an electrical current is running through it?”

“Yes! Is that what being in love feels like?”

“I assume so. I’ve never been in love before, either.”

Emma giggled adorably. “Well, now that we’re clear on how we feel about each other, what else is keeping you from ravaging me?”

He grinned at her and ran his hands up her sides underneath her sweater. “Just this jumper,” he said as he pulled it over her head. “And these jeans, and bra, and…you’re wearing far too many clothes, Swan.”

“Hmmm, I guess we better do something about that. You have a lot of clothes on too, you know.”

In a flash, she tackled him and had him on his back in the middle of the bed, while she knelt above him, undoing the fastener of his jeans and pulling the zipper down. He lifted his hips to help her tug them down his legs until he was in his boxers, and she licked her lips as she took in the sizable bulge he was sporting.

She felt his hair tickling her fingers when she ran them up his legs and into the openings of his underwear. One hand fondled his balls while the other found his shaft, stroking it lightly. Her eyes moved up his body to watch the effect she was having on him.

His eyes were closed and he was biting his lower lip. His hands reached up to grip the pillow under his head and he groaned, “Bloody fuck, Emma! That…that feels so good!”

She continued running her hand along his velvety skin, stopping periodically to brush her thumb across his slit, until he gasped, “P-please stop, Love. I…I don’t know if I can…hold back if you keep doing that.”

She gave him one more gentle squeeze, then removed her hands and sat looking down at him with a smirk, before swinging around on the bed to yank off her socks.  As she reached for the button of her jeans, he stopped her. “Let me do that, Love.”

She hopped up off the bed to stand in front of him, clad only in her bra and jeans. “Okay, but I get to finish stripping you first.”  

“As you wish,” he conceded.

She pushed his flannel shirt off his shoulders and, once he pulled his arms free, lifted his henley over his head. Seeing that she still hadn’t reached bare skin yet because of the white undershirt he wore, she blew out an exasperated breath.

“Holy shit, Jones! How many layers of clothes are you wearing?”

“I live in Maine and it’s the middle of winter. What do you expect?”

“I expect to get naked with you, but I didn’t know it was gonna take until the New Year to get you there!”

He laughed as she grabbed the hem of the T-shirt to drag it up his body. Her eyes danced with delight as she took in his muscular chest with its generous peppering of hair. He tried not to squirm as she lightly ran her fingers through it and stroked along his ribcage.

“You’re gorgeous,” she breathed, watching her fingers as they moved.

“Not nearly as much as you,” he responded, bringing his hands up to spread them over her sides, and rubbing his thumbs under the elastic of her bra. As his hands slid around to the back of it, he looked up at her through his lashes. “May I?”

She nodded and held her breath as he made quick work of the fasteners, then she pulled her arms through and let the bra drop to the floor.  

Killian lovingly caressed her breasts, strumming his thumbs across her nipples, which hardened immediately under his ministrations. “Beautiful,” he whispered.

He bent to take one of her pebbled nipples between his lips, running his tongue across it, then sucking lightly. When it garnered a gasp and soft moan from her, he sucked harder, while his left hand squeezed and fondled the other breast.

Emma’s eyes closed and her head dropped back as she enjoyed the sensations passing through her body. Her fingers found their way to his hair and she scratched through it, giving little tugs to the ends.

Every sigh and utterance went straight to his groin and soon he was even harder than her stroking had left him. He moved his mouth down her stomach before realizing she was still wearing her jeans. He fumbled with the button for a few seconds before she reached down and undid it herself.

“So impatient,” he growled, undoing the zipper and shoving her jeans past her hips.

She peeled them off, stepped out of them and kicked them aside, as his hands moved around to squeeze her ass, while he nibbled on her hip. She went to work in earnest to completely wreck his hair.

“Touch me, Killian,” she begged.  

He hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties and quickly disposed of them, inhaling deeply to take in the heady scent of her arousal. Now that he had her completely naked, he guided her back to the bed, encouraging her to lay down.

Before she did, Emma helped him remove his boxers. She knew by feeling him that he was well-endowed, but seeing it made her eyes widen. “That’s quite a package you’ve got there, buddy.”

He laughed. “I hope you’ll enjoy the delivery I make to you!” he said with a lopsided grin, causing her to roll her eyes playfully.

Finally lowering herself to the bed, she scooted back and laid down. He aligned himself beside her, looking into her face. “You are truly a very beautiful woman, my love,” he said, before leaning in for a sweet and tender kiss.

He ran his fingers across her collarbone, along the side of her breast, and down her ribcage. She giggled a bit at the tickling sensation and then drew in a quick breath as his fingers pressed between her thighs. She automatically widened them to allow him better access and moaned as he swiped through her slick folds.

“So…so wet, Swan,” he declared, watching his fingers stroke her, picking up more of her creamy essence on each pass.

“Mmhmm. K-Killian, please. Get inside me. Make me…make me come,” she whimpered.

In response, he tentatively pushed a finger into her heat. “More…” she encouraged.

Nodding, he pulled out and added a second on the next gentle thrust. “How does that feel, Love?”

“Insanely good,” she gasped, placing her hand over his, urging him to go deeper.

He continued working her up while his mouth kissed up her body to give attention to her breast.

Her head was rolling side-to-side on the pillow, her eyes closed and her mouth open to emit short panting breaths. He could feel her legs begin to quake as she drew them up and let them fall open, allowing him more freedom to explore.

“Can you take more?” he asked quietly.

Unable to form words at the moment, she simply nodded her head up and down. He pulled his glistening fingers free, knocking her hand away, and slowly pressed three fingers into her, watching her face carefully to discern any discomfort. Once they were completely enveloped in her welcoming heat, he twisted and curled them, then rolled his thumb over her bundle of nerves.

The effect was immediate and intense as her walls squeezed his fingers and she cried out, “Yes! Killian!”

He continued to stroke her as her body gradually relaxed, and his mouth latched onto her nipple again, sucking and licking to help draw out her ecstasy a bit longer.

When she finally came down from her high, she opened her eyes. “You call that being out of practice?” she teased.

He slid his fingers out of her and dragged them up her body, leaving a trail of her arousal which he followed with his tongue. Reaching her mouth at last, he uttered against her lips, “Perhaps it IS like riding a bicycle,” then plunged his tongue into her mouth.

After overcoming her surprise at the sudden intrusion, she gave back as good as she got, filling the room with sounds of clashing teeth, smacking lips, heartfelt moans, and heavy breathing. He settled his body over hers and her legs came up to encircle his hips.

Feeling her wet, hot, heat rubbing against his cock, he began grinding to add some friction. “Fuck, Emma! Feels so good!” he panted. “I need more!”

She desperately nodded. “Yes, pleeease!”

Loosening her legs, she let them fall to the mattress, giving him room to maneuver.

“Guide me, Love,” he requested, dropping his forearms to rest on either side of her.

Taking the opportunity to run her hands through the soft hair on his chest again, she slid them down his body to his fully erect member, drawing the head through her abundant slickness.

Killian was struggling not to thrust into her hand and come before he even had the chance to get inside her. “I…I love you, Emma,” he gasped. “Let me show you how much.”

Without wasting another second, she positioned him at her opening, then moved her hands to his ass, squeezing it encouragingly. He began to enter her at an achingly slow pace and when she looked up, she could see the cords of his neck standing out, his head thrown back, teeth clenched, and eyes closed tightly.

“Don’t hold back, Babe,” she pleaded. “Just let go. You won’t…you won’t hurt me.”

He pulled back until just his tip was still within her, then thrust his hips forward to enter her more deeply. Repeating this motion a few more times, he finally stilled balls deep and dropped his head to her chest.

“Bloody hell, you feel amazing, Love! I could live the rest of my life right here!”

“That…that might be a bit…inconvenient, but…I wouldn’t object!” she stammered.

He gripped her shoulders from underneath and began to move, slowly at first, but picking up speed as the sensations started to overwhelm him. She bent her knees and drew her legs up alongside his body and the new angle added to the pleasure.

With every snap of his hips, her breath caught, her hands roaming up and down his back and buttocks, her nails scratching against his skin, which heightened his arousal and drove him toward the edge faster than he wanted.

“Emma…I can’t…I’m going to…”

“Me…too!” Her knees tightened around him and her hips raised off the bed, her legs shaking with her impending release.

He plunged into her once more and suddenly she was flying. The throbbing of her walls along his swollen cock was his undoing, and with another thrust, he joined her. Feeling his release washing through her, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him against her and letting their sweat mingle as their hearts beat erratically in their chests.

“I love you,” she murmured, her lips finding their way to the hollow of his throat, then nuzzling into the juncture of his shoulder.

He rolled them over to reverse their positions and wrapped her securely in his arms. “I love you, too.”

As their breathing evened out and their bodies cooled, Killian reached down to find the blanket and pulled it over both of them. “Mmmm, can I just stay here all night?” she mumbled sleepily.

“I think that’s a grand idea, Love.”

She lifted her head to look into his face. “Do you mean it?”

“I can think of nothing I want more than to hold you in my arms for the rest of the night, my love.”

“You know I have to work tomorrow, don’t you? It’s the Christmas season so we’re swamped.”

“I’ll wake you early so you can get to work on time.”

“Deal, but be warned - I’m not a morning person.”

“I’ll be cautious.”

They fell silent for several minutes while she enjoyed the soothing movement of his hands kneading the skin of her back. She was just starting to doze off when his voice rumbled against the top of her head. “Does it have to be just for tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

“Will you…could you make a special delivery to me again tomorrow night?”

She rested her chin on his sternum and grinned up at him. “I think I could do that.”

“I can pick you up, so you don’t have to drive all the way out here by yourself.”

“That’s not necessary. I’m used to doing things by myself.”

“But you don’t have to, Emma. You…we…aren’t alone anymore.”

A smile lit up her face. “That’s true. We have each other now.”

“That we do, and you are always welcome here. I want you here - as often as possible.”

“You might regret that offer.”

“Never.”

She sighed happily and laid her head back on his chest. “Thank you, Killian.”

“For what, Love?”

“For opening your heart to me and making me feel wanted, beautiful, special and loved.”

“You are all of those things, Sweetheart.”

He could feel her smile against his skin. “And for giving me a place to belong,” she added.

“You belong right here,” he said, patting the spot over his heart. “I want to thank you too, Emma, for taking a chance on me, by giving me your heart and blessing me with your love. I feel very lucky, and obviously less lonely, having you in my life. When I think of the hell I had to walk through, I wouldn’t trade a day of it, because it led me to you.”

She raised her head again and her lips found his for a long, languid kiss. “I know what you mean, and I feel the same way, too; no longer lonely and very lucky to have found you,” she whispered afterwards.

They decided it would be a good idea to clean up a bit before going to sleep, so he led her into the bathroom. When they returned to the bedroom, he pulled on flannel sleep pants, and offered her the matching shirt, which she tugged over her head.

As he pulled open a dresser drawer to grab another, Emma put a hand on his arm to stop him. “It might be the middle of winter, but it’s a shame to cover up that sexy chest hair. I promise I’ll keep you warm,” she said with a sly grin.

He didn’t argue, knowing that he would give her anything her heart desired. They climbed back into bed and shared some sweet kisses, then Emma turned onto her left side and reached back to find his arm, wrapping it around herself and pulling it up between her breasts. He scooted closer and pressed himself against her back, sighing contentedly as he buried his nose in her hair.

“I love you, Emma. I’ll see you in the morning,” he murmured.

She yawned before replying, “I love you, too, Killian. Goodnight.”

As they drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, their hearts a perfect match, that night became the first of the rest of their lives together; a new beginning for both of them, never to be lonely again.  

*********

If you’re reading this story for the first time, thank you for giving it a try, and if you’ve read it before, rereads are the best kind of compliment! Thanks to all of you who are reading, commenting and reblogging! 

Tagging: @xsajx @hookedmom @kymbersmith-90 @kmomof4 @lassluna @pirateherokillian @teamhook @stahlop @elizabeethan @whimsicallyenchantedrose @resident-of-storybrooke @therooksshiningknight @jennjenn615 @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @killianswannn @stories-enchanted @eleveneitherway @withheartfulloflove @kday426 @lyssapup27 @swanlovato @djlbg @kristi555 @laschatzi @xarandomdreamx @lkles08 @wyntereyez @bubblegum1425 @xhookswenchx @yasbio2015 @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @wefoundloveunderthelight @hollyethecurious @let-it-raines @jonesfandomfanatic @searchingwardrobes @dreamingdreamsalways @oncechicagolove @andiirivera  @gingerchangeling @everything-person @klynn-stormz @qualitycoffeethings @vampcoffeegyrl23 @enchanted-swans @ohmakemeahercules @donteattheappleshook @bluewildcatfanatic @the-darkdragonfly @demisexualemmaswan @lavenderbudd @grimmswan @spartanguard @flslp87 @ultraluckycatnd @thisonesatellite @captainswan21 @zaharadessert @mariakov81 @snowbellewells @xouatxcs @kiwistreetswan @batana54 @nadine200179 @probalicious17 @courtorderedcake @julesep3026 @jackieorioncat @whatthehell102082 @jarienn972 @sthonour @linda8084  @pirateprincesslena @daxx04 @winterbythesea @artistic-writer @cocohook38 @captainswan4life85 @molly958 @kingofmyheart14 @badwolfreturns @itsfridaysomewhere@fallingforthecaptain​  @onceratheart18 @strangestarlighttree @omgmarvelousmorgan @justanother-unluckysoul @mrs-potato-but-likes-tomato​ @anothersworld​ @deckerstarblanche​ @purplehawkcaptain​  @superchocovian​ @k-leemac​ @citygirlscowboy​ @laughterandbooks​ @sotangledupinit​ @apiratewhopines​ @huntressandlioness1​ @cosette141​  @gingerpolyglot​ @motherkatereloyshipper​ @cs-rylie​

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

Marauders #22

I absolutely hated this issue, so be warned that’s a lot of salt here, and my usual whining, so skip this post if you’re not in the mood for that.  Also spoilers below.

First impression - what absolute, self-indulgent horseshit.  I hesitate to use “fanfic” in a derogatory way, but a lot of Marauders has read as being very “fanfic” in terms of self-indulgence, and greatly favoring certain characters while denigrating others.  I actually don’t think that’s a bad thing in fanfic.  It can be annoying to read if that’s not what you’re looking for (or it can be wonderful, if it IS what you’re looking for), but ultimately, fanfic is all about self-indulgence.  It’s about writing what you want to see in a story, and if Duggan’s Marauders was someone’s actual fanfic, I wouldn’t have anything bad to say about it.  I might dislike the characterization, and probably wouldn’t read it, but it ultimately wouldn’t matter because it’s fanfic.  Frankly, I’m just as bad about constantly centering everything around Pyro (and finding ways to work him into stories where he doesn’t even belong), because I’m writing just for myself, so I can be self-indulgent.  But I’d expect much better from a professional writer.  I’d expect much better from someone being paid to write a team book.  I’d expect a god-damn balanced book that actually pays attention to the whole cast and gives a thoughtful interpretation to ALL the characters, even the villains, rather than a book dedicated to shining a spotlight on two already well-established characters, and treating them like queens who step all over the rest of the cast. 

So, we ignore almost everything set up at the Gala, including the attack on Christian and the Marauder (the ship) being set ablaze.  Why aren’t the characters handling that, Duggan?  Is that really being saved for another month?  We don’t even know if Christian is dead or not, you can’t even spare a panel for Iceman reacting to this?  Instead, we tell a flashback story that eventually reveals that Lourdes Chantel is still alive, and Emma helped her fake her own death to escape from an abusive Sebastian.

What exactly is the point of this story, in terms of the overall Marauders arc?  Will Lourdes show up later to play a role?  Is this meant to further push Sebastian along some kind of path to redemption (recognizing that he drove Lourdes away with his actions).  Because so far, Duggan doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested in rehabilitating Sebastian.  This seems like yet another story establishing Emma GOOD, Sebastian BAD, the same message that’s been getting pounded into the readers’ heads for 22 issues.  Like, we KNOW, Duggan.  We know that you think the sun shines out of Emma’s ass, you’ve already well-established that you think she’s a brilliant, wonderful, compassionate, badass queen, through 22 issues of centering the entire series around her, at the expense of EVERY other fucking character in the book (even sometimes Kate, the other obvious favorite).  It’s gotten beyond tiresome at this point.  Like, I feel like even people who love Emma and hate Sebastian are getting bored by now, because it’s not even good storytelling to have a strawman villain who is no real threat just getting repeatedly knocked down.

So, Duggan has taken both Sebastian and Emma, and further removed any kind of complexity or nuance from them.  Sebastian can’t have a kind or tender side, he can’t ever be shown in a positive light.  His relationship was Lourdes was previously part of his tragic origins, pushing him to be a worse person than he’d been in a past, but no, lets retcon him to be a controlling abuser, whom Lourdes is desperate to escape.  Because it makes Sebastian look bad and Emma look good.  Honestly, it would have been more interesting and powerful to have Lourdes come back from the dead, and be disgusted by the person Sebastian has become.  That would actually have an impact.

And by the way, why did Lourdes need Emma’s help in establishing her new identity?  She was already part of the Hellfire Club, she’s the one who brought Sebastian in, she’s rich as fuck.  Lourdes should be well capable of getting away from Sebastian on her own.  She might need Emma’s help for faking her own death, but the rest of it?  Emma should just do a little hacking to access Lourdes’ personal fortune and transfer it into a new account, and then she’s good to go.  But no, Lourdes has to be treated like a little lost lamb, a helpless battered woman for Emma to rescue.  And Emma’s deal with the Kingpin further exonerates Emma for her past crimes, because obviously, she’s just working off the debt she incurred helping poor, innocent Lourdes!  It can’t be that Emma did bad things in the past because she was ambitious, cruel, vain, and power-hungry, she has to be a woke queen who was always there to help other women.

I think Duggan thinks he’s being feminist with all this, with the “women help each other,” message, and either ignoring or villifying all the male characters.  But he’s not.  It’s not feminist to take a very complex, interesting, powerful woman like Emma Frost and completely remove all responsibility and agency for her past crimes by turning her into an abuse victim and repeatedly retconning her to be better than she actually was.  (To be fair, Duggan is just continuing a trend already started by other writers).  Emma is ambitious, power-hungry, cruel, callous, self-absorbed, vain and snobby.  But she is also brave, intelligent, compassionate, kind, protective, heroic, and self-sacrificing.  All of those things are part of Emma.  She is a teacher who loved her students, and the love for those students is part of what sent Emma on her long, difficult path towards redemption.  Yes, she’s a badass queen, but she is also a flawed individual, who has worked to overcome those flaws and become a better person.  And constantly re-writing the past to make her an “always good” abuse victim who only ever committed crimes because the big bad men forced her into it cheapens that redemption.

Speaking of cheap redemption -     

The Wilhelmina subplot: Wow, Duggan really will prioritize ANY character over Bishop, Iceman and Pyro, won’t he?  I know this is me throwing a tantrum, because “Wah, Duggan is writing someone other than my favorites!” but after 22 issues I feel justified in this whining.  Iceman, Bishop and Pyro are supposed to be regular cast members, and so far Duggan has given more serious development and emotional scenes to Callisto, Forge, Dolores (the human contact at the X-Desk), Masque, Jumbo Carnation, Magneto, the Cuckoos, and now Wilhelmina.  I don’t mind the development for many of those characters, I like Callisto and Forge and Jumbo (although I’m a little annoyed at the Magneto stuff, since he’s already front and center in the Krakoa era, and about to star in a mini-series, does he really need more time in the spotlight?).  But honestly?  Fuck Wilhelmina.  I was never that interested in the Hellfire brats, and I’m not the slightest bit interested in watching the retcon redemption of a character that murders animals for fun.  Why does she get a spotlight story while the three dudes on the team STILL haven’t gotten anything more than vague background hints of character arcs.  I mean, compare the very emotional flashback and Wilhelmina’s breakdown to the half-assed, mostly taking place off- panel “redemption” that Duggan has given Pyro.  Just a single line of “maybe this crew is bringing out the best in me,” with no lead-up, no further reflection, no hints about Pyro changing his ideas before then.  Why did you even put Iceman, Bishop and Pyro on the team if you’re not going to use them, Duggan?  Because you’ve made it quite clear that you’d rather write ANY character other than them.  I can’t even look forward to Tempo and Banshee joining the cast next issue, even though I like them (and I really want to see more development of Tempo), because I know they will be yet more characters that get pushed into the foreground, while Iceman, Bishop and Pyro remain the underdeveloped background clown trio.    

Also, it seems kind of offensive to have a cruel, murderous female character, and then say that her cruelty is entirely due to sexual abuse?  What kind of message does that send to sexual abuse victims?  That it will turn you into a monster?  Why do female villains keep getting sexual abuse as part of their backstory?  Why can’t they just be bad?  Or have something else going on?  So the Cuckoos flip a switch in Wilhelmina and she’s magically “fixed,” or at least on her way to better?  Again, I think Duggan thinks he’s being feminist with this, but he’s not. 

At least Wllhelmina has been a recurring villain in this series, so I can kinda see how her potential redemption may move the plot along, but Duggan is still introducing new plot threads, while leaving so many others dangling.  What about Christian?  What about Shinobi and Fenris?  Will Bobby and Christian ever even speak to each other again?  Will the supposed main cast members of Iceman, Bishop and Pyro ever, EVER get a proper character arc?

Or will we get an entire issue of Emma, Kate and the Cuckoos giving Wilhelmina a redemptive make-over, because girl power, amiright?

[karlyfr13s]

Helping Destiny Along

A fluffy CS one-shot for the lovely @teamhook

Thank you @veryverynotgoodwrites for being one heck of a beta, and @the-darkdragonfly for your brainstorming powers!

Summary: Henry Mills has a theory: for each Captain Hook, there must be an Emma Swan. Well, he found Princess Emma Nolan at long last and is determined to bring her together with Killian Jones now that he's back in the Wishverse version of the Enchanted Forest.

Read it on AO3

At nineteen, Princess Emma Nolan believed in True Love. After all, her parents had found each other, and everyone knew theirs was a legendary love worthy of poetry and song. She watched for a prince from the high windows of her tower bedroom, waiting for someone tall, dark, and handsome to sweep her off her feet. He would be bold, romantic, dashing, and kind-hearted—she just knew it.

At twenty-two, she concluded that such a love was rare and that her parents may be the only two people with a Capital-T, Capital-L True Love, so she started looking for the more run-of-the-mill variety. Instead of waiting for someone to ride up to the castle gate and court her, she took a more active approach and sought her love by traveling and meeting new people. When that didn’t work either, Princess Emma tried for mutual attraction, which was fun at twenty-four, but grew stale by twenty-five. So she resigned herself to loving her kingdom and her people.

At twenty-eight, a man knocked on the door and utterly transformed her life. To be clear, she did not love that particular man. Henry came from a faraway land and told her fantastic tales that seemed beyond the reach of even her magic, and while she did not love him, he told her somewhere out there in a world beyond her grasp there was an Emma Swan who was his mother, and who loved him ferociously. For days, she and her parents welcomed Henry to stay in their home and share meals at their table, and for days he regaled them with stories of his world and of other versions of each member of the Nolan family. They were spellbound by his narratives. He was a gifted storyteller, and as if he’d known this was too fantastic to be believed, he came with something called photographs that showed a still window into his world. She saw a version of her mother, Queen Snow, but much younger and with close-cropped dark hair instead of the silvery tresses she was accustomed to. Her father was another surprise--he looked barely older than Emma herself, sandy hair where now there was gray, and while she knew her father was still a strong and capable swordsman, this version of King David seemed able to challenge even the mightiest ogre.

Princess Emma Nolan even saw herself, but not herself. They looked identical, she and Henry’s mother, and while her style was different from this unknown twin’s, she couldn’t help but notice some similarities. Emma Swan was often pictured in a short red leather coat, while Princess Emma Nolan’s favorite doublet was a rich blue leather. When she commented, Henry told her they both wore them like armor, gesturing to the bruise on his shoulder from their earlier sparring session in the yard. Emma Swan liked to pull her hair back, wearing it high on her head much like Princess Emma Nolan when she wasn’t expected at court or in her regal finest. Henry even had a picture of his mother with a sword--is she trained as well? She’d asked, and Henry grinned at the question, answering with another tale of his mother besting a pirate in single combat!

“I’m pretty sure that fight was rigged though,” he admitted as they walked the castle gardens one afternoon. “And that’s part of why I’m here.” He stopped and faced her, saying he hoped she could believe one more outlandish story before he had to return to his world.

“You seem to come well-armed with evidence, Henry. I don’t see why I should doubt you at this point.”

“My mother, Emma Swan, is an incredible woman. It took her a long time, but she found her True Love, and I think you can find yours. When I learned there was a version of her--of you--here, I had to find out if you were with him too, and when you weren’t…” Henry trailed off, frowning at the ground. He was quiet for a long while, and Emma ran through his words over and over. Henry thought he knew who her True Love was? How? How could he know that his mother and whoever she was with were one another’s True Love?

“I know he’s here now--I’ve met him before, and back in my world--”

“What? Then how can he be my True Love if he’s from your world?” None of this was making sense, and for the first time she doubted Henry. It seemed he could see the uncertainty within her, and he steered them to a bench to sit and talk as he clarified this man was not from his world, but had been brought there by a curse. The same curse that separated Henry from his own family.

“I know you understand curses and magic,” he began and she nodded at his words. “So when I tell you he was swept up in a curse and brought back in time to my world, that should make sense, right?” She nodded again, wondering who could have cursed two men from different worlds at the same time. Someone powerful and dangerous. Henry sighed and continued. “His name is Killian Jones, and he’s the best man I know. He’s my father in every sense of the word, and while there’s a version of him who is my mother’s True Love, I know there is one who is also yours. He has to be.”

Henry told her a lengthy story about a witch who ensnared a group of people from this kingdom, trapping them in a place called Hyperion Heights. He spoke of a coven leader who cursed Killian Jones so he could never be in contact with his daughter—a child she had abandoned him with after tricking him into spending a night with her. “But you see, Emma, you can break that curse. Your love--yours and Killian’s will break that curse. You will have each other and Alice--hell, and Robin! I haven’t even told you about Robin,” he was lost in thought again after that. Emma waited and tried to make sense of all she had learned.

Is it possible? In some way, his tale made sense. If what he said about the curse was true, it would explain The Gap. Emma had never mentioned The Gap to Henry, though he may have learnt of it through other means. It was rarely spoken of, but everyone in the Enchanted Forest shared one simple truth: there was a block of time no one could account for. Whenever Emma or her parents tried to focus on that space, thinking back to her twenty-sixth birthday, there was a strange void where there should be at least some memory of the year. She could remember the celebratory ball and the night of her birthday, but every time she tried to focus on what came next it only earned her a persistent headache.

“Please don’t hate me, Emma,” Henry put a hand on her shoulder, bringing her back to the present. “I told him to meet me here three days after I arrived. That’s tonight. He’ll be here, and he knows what I believe about you two because he also knows my mother and her Killian. He’s, uh...not entirely convinced. He’s been through a lot, but…” He shrugged and gave her a lopsided smile.

“It’s his story to tell, so I won’t go into detail, just...go easy on the guy. He might be a little gun shy—uh, guarded,” he quickly clarified when he saw her blink in confusion. “I don’t think he’s seen anyone since that witch who duped him, led the coven, and tried to destroy Hyperion Heights. Think that might do a number on a guy.” He looked so sincere, so much like he did when telling all his other tales that Emma chose to believe. Henry hadn’t lied to her before, so what would the motivation be to do so now?

She chewed at her lip, fretting over what to do and how to greet someone who might be a part of her very soul--someone who had been through tricks and curses, and had suffered real loss. She couldn’t simply turn him out in the night, that was unthinkable, but what do you say to the other half of your heart? If that is what he is. This had to have been simpler for her mother. At least she’d simply caught her father in a net after robbing him. That seemed easier than calmly welcoming fate to dinner and introducing the man to your parents on day one.

“Well,” she got up and dusted off her breeches, “I suppose we’d best let my parents know we’re expecting another guest. And I may need to change as well. I think I’d rather not smell worse than the stables when I meet him.” Emma faltered on the last word, not knowing how to address Killian Jones. Henry smiled and followed her lead.

-----

One thorough and contemplative bath later, Emma emerged in a blush pink gown that shimmered softly in the waning sunlight. It had taken her three other dresses before she settled on this one. It was simpler than what she wore to galas and State events: tea length and embroidered in sheer flowers. She knew it would glow softly under the lights of the candles and torches at dinner, and Princess Emma Nolan found herself hoping he would like it.

When he arrived, it was Henry who greeted Killian Jones first, clasping the man’s hand and giving Emma a moment to simply observe. His smile was warm, a bright white flash of teeth and Emma noticed the slight creases at his eyes as well. An authentic smile, she noted, enjoying the genuine moment between the two men. He was dashing there was no other word for it--dressed in black and rich crimson, rings and charms gleaming in the firelight, their glimmer echoed in the silver strands that threaded here and there through his otherwise coal-black hair. Where his left hand ought to be, Emma found instead a polished silver hook and she remembered whispered gossip of a pirate captain referred to only by the moniker Hook. Once a fearsome leader of a brutal band of thieves, he had all but vanished into lore years ago. She realized too late that she’d been staring, and cleared her throat softly before curtseying to cover the awkwardness. Henry took the moment to introduce them, “Captain Killian Jones, may I present Emma Nolan, Princess of Misthaven.”

She offered her hand and Killian took it up, placing a chaste kiss across her knuckles. His eyes met hers, their brilliant lapis blue making her breath catch in her throat. Regardless of the formality of their meeting and the fact Henry, her parents, and several serving staff looked on, she felt the pull immediately. From the moment her hand was in his, it felt right. She wanted to keep hold of him more than she’d wanted anything in her life, wanted to memorize the rough calluses formed by his years at sea, but she forced herself to maintain propriety and brought her hand back to her side. Emma reminded herself they did not know one another, to not get swept up in Henry’s notions without evaluating the truth of the situation. Though she saw in his gaze a strange flicker of recognition, a brief knitting of his brow that asked a silent question she could not interpret, she let the moment pass and returned to her expected duties.

Emma introduced him to her parents, watching her father’s scrutinizing gaze contrast with her mother’s brilliant smile. No doubt her father was riddling out Henry’s purpose in inviting this man to dinner, though she couldn’t fathom him guessing the truth. All through dinner, Emma could barely take her eyes off Killian. He shared a few stories from his days at sea, talking of far-off kingdoms and uninhabited islands, and Emma felt a longing take hold of her as he spun a tale of a snow-covered northern kingdom where they carved elaborate ice sculptures, held firelight festivals, and celebrated the beauty of winter rather than fearing its chill. His voice was low, its velvet warmth wrapping around her and pulling her from all sense of time. The evening passed quickly, and long before she was ready, Emma’s parents stood to signal the end of the affair.

“It’s far too late for you to make a return journey, Captain Jones,” Queen Snow spoke. “We welcome you to stay as a guest in our home. We will have a room made up for you at once and hope you will accompany us for breakfast in the morning.” At his thanks, the Queen turned to Emma, “Oh, and Emma, darling?”

“Yes, Mother?”

Emma approached and her mother drew her in for a close hug, whispering softly, “See to it that Captain Jones can find his way. Most of the staff have already retired and I’d hate for him to get lost in search of rest.” With that, the Queen turned and gently tugged her husband toward their own chambers, leaving Emma to escort their two guests.

She could hear her father grumbling about leaving Emma unchaperoned, but Snow’s voice echoed back, “David, she’s twenty-eight, not sixteen, she’ll be fine. Our daughter is perfectly capable--” Their voices were lost as they rounded a corner, and Emma suppressed a smile. It didn’t matter that she was a full grown woman, her father would always be protective of her.

When she turned around, Emma realized Henry had vanished. Someone seems to think himself a matchmaker, she mused and as her eyes fell upon the man who waited by the fireplace she could understand why Henry had made himself scarce. Deep breath, Emma. He’s simply a man like any other. If she tried very hard, she just might convince herself of that. Well, unless she stopped to listen to the way her heart raced when the corner of his mouth ticked up in a smile.

“Did you want--that is,” she faltered and tripped over her tongue, coming to stand near him where he leaned against the back of a chair by the hearth. “I don’t know how long a trip you made today, and so…” Why was this so hard?

“I’m quite alright, Princess. Would it be terribly inappropriate of me to ask you to keep me company and perhaps share a drink?” She smiled in response, slipping a large book from a shelf over the mantle after pointing out where her father kept a set of glasses on a shelf nearby.

“He thinks I don’t know about this,” she opened the volume to reveal a bottle. “Rum he had imported from the south--is that acceptable, Captain?”

“Aye, that will do nicely. Bit of a pirate in you isn’t there, Princess? Pinching a man’s rum while he’s fast asleep.” They shared a conspiratorial grin as she poured and each took up a chair near the fire. “To what shall we toast, love?”

She hummed in thought, considering the man before her. The pull was still there like some invisible thread entwining the two of them and she hoped it wasn’t only she who felt it. “To new beginnings,” she offered, holding her glass aloft. He echoed the sentiment and crystal clinked as their eyes met over the rims of their glasses before both looked away shyly and took a sip. The warmth and spice slid down her throat, settling in her stomach and making her shiver. They were quiet for a time, simply sharing the space while they glanced at one another, eyes never quite meeting, nor acknowledging they were both performing the same dance.

“I take it dear Henry shared his theory with you?” Killian broke the silence, addressing the weight that had settled in the room. She confirmed he had shared that along with several other stories, asking if it were true he’d been swept away to a land without magic. “Aye, and for some time I had no memory of myself or this place. When the truth finally came back to me it was...difficult to deal with. Did he...mention Alice?” He swirled the rum in his glass, eyes flicking up to meet hers.

“Yes, he also mentioned a curse is keeping you apart,” she reached across the small distance that separated them, hand resting on the brace that held his hook. “Killian—if I may call you Killian,” she felt herself flush at the informality and he nodded encouragingly. She said it once more, feeling the musical quality of it as she continued. “What kind of monster keeps a father from his daughter like that?”

His shoulders sagged as he said the story of Gothel was one for another day, that it was a story filled with dark shadows he dare not conjure without the sunlight to dispel them. “I only mention Alice because...well, given what Henry has told both of us I have been...” his brow furrowed as he searched for a word, and she leaned forward, absently running her hand over his sleeve and feeling where the firm leather of his brace ended and the warmth of his arm began. His gaze dropped to where her hand rested and she looked up, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “Concerned,” he finished at last. “That is, I’d thought perhaps because I have a child with someone else, and because I am obviously older than you are, that you might feel...or not feel a certain…not that I think Henry is necessarily right…”

His words tapered off and she became very aware they were both leaning in now, the distance between them nearly closed. She could see the silver in his hair glinting in the firelight, the strands at his temples more greyed than the rest. Greedily, she took in all she could in this moment. The heat that radiated from where her hand still rested atop his arm, the scents of leather and petrichor that clung to him were so close she could nearly roll them on her tongue. When she searched his eyes she saw a lingering hurt, but behind that was what appeared to be cautious hope. Setting her glass aside, Emma brought her hand up, allowing herself to do what she’d been wanting to all evening and running her fingers through his hair. He held her gaze, eyes wide and uncertain and she realized his past hurts ran deep enough that he wouldn’t act on that hopeful glint she’d seen moments ago. She would have to be brave for both of them.

With a whisper of his name she closed what little distance remained between them. She’d intended a light brush of her lips, had simply wanted to know what may lie between them, but the moment their lips met Emma knew she would never be satisfied with so little. She poured herself into the moment, moving to grip the front of his shirt and pull him tightly to her. He followed her lead, their kiss deepening as he tilted his head, the two of them moving as though they had done this a hundred times before. She heard her pulse pounding away in her head, felt his breath ghosting over her lips as they breathed into one another for a moment before he captured her lips again. Something shifted then, like the single beat of a massive heart, a shockwave rippled outward, though neither could be bothered to break this moment. Finally, the two pulled back, eyes searching one another.

“Was that?” Emma asked, not knowing how to complete the thought. Her parents had told her their story several times: the kiss that broke the curse. The kiss that radiated out from them in a burst of force and light. The kiss that sounded an awful lot like what she had just shared with Captain Killian Jones.

Killian rested his forehead against hers, breathing out slowly before replying in a soft voice, “Aye love, I think it may have been.” She asked how that was possible, neither naming it yet and both quaffing their rum before leaning back in their chairs. “Years ago,” he began, “I ran into a fortune teller on the docks. He told me I would find my happiness though it was presently locked away in a tall tower. So, when the time came and I found myself facing a witch and finding a woman locked away in a tower I had thought my moment had come. Instead, I found Gothel and her tricks. I brought a daughter into this world only to have her freedom snatched away by the cold-hearted woman who bore her.”

Emma watched him closely, he seemed far away and lost in another time. “Tonight,” he continued after several beats, “when I saw the westward tower of this castle I had to stifle my hope that perhaps after so long--what is that tower to you?” He leaned toward her suddenly, his sapphire eyes searching hers as though he could read the truth within them.

“My bedroom,” she admitted. “My parents thought it would keep me safe. With only one known entrance and exit, it was easy to post guards and easy to know who sought my attention. Of course, there is another exit, but no one other than me knows of it. I devised it when I was sixteen and desperately wanted a way out without the entourage of guards.”

He fell silent, his forehead creased in thought as he tapped a finger against the bow of his lips. The mantle clock’s rhythmic ticking was nearly deafening as Emma waited through each drawn out second. Mesmerized by the path he now traced along his bottom lip, her mind drifted back to the soft press of his mouth against hers and she wished fervently to undo whatever had him so lost in his own thoughts. Come back to me, Killian, she sighed aloud and he snapped to attention. “My apologies, love. I believe I may be in need of rest.” His explanation rang hollow and she leveled a gaze at him, knowing this wasn’t the full truth.

“I swear to you, Princess, I will make my theories known. I do not intend to hide anything from you.” He stood then, stretching languidly before offering his arm and waiting for her to rise. She acquiesced if only for the chance to feel the warmth of him once more before she retired for the night. She tried to stifle her yawn behind her hand and heard him chuckle low in response. “It seems I may not be the only one in need of sleep. Lead the way, love.”

She led him to one of the guest rooms not far from Henry’s. As she bid him goodnight, Killian leaned down to brush a featherlight kiss across her lips, wishing her sweet dreams. Emma felt as though she floated on air the whole way up to her room, content to leave him to his musings tonight and trusting he would speak his mind soon enough.

----- The morning saw Emma waking earlier than usual, calling a chipper “Good morning” to her sleep-rumpled lady’s maid before dismissing her and attending to her own routine. Still abed at this hour? It seems dear Tink has been keeping late hours herself. She let herself ponder whose affections might be persuading the spunky blonde to be less than punctual, smiling at her reflection as she brushed out her golden tresses.

Once ready, Emma hummed to herself, making her way down the innumerable stairs in search of breakfast, her parents, and Killian--the thought made her grin. His sudden shift into contemplativeness notwithstanding, he had been the perfect gentleman last night. Thoughtful in their discussion at dinner, genuine and curious without overstepping, and then there was the kiss. She flushed, pausing before the dining room doors to gather her thoughts and put on what she hoped was a soft smile rather than the doe-eyed look she’d undoubtedly been wearing since she woke.

Her parents, Henry, and Killian were already seated when she entered--the latter both rising and inclining their heads in deference. “Good morning, Princess,” they intoned in unison. She laughed, insisting they sit and continue the conversation she had interrupted, taking her place at her father’s right hand and quietly thanking the servingman who filled her cup with coffee and cream.

“Killian, you were asking about the tower, yes?” Queen Snow offered an encouraging half-smile before sipping demurely at her tea. At this, Emma heard her father mutter under his breath about the Captain inquiring about his daughter’s bedroom.

“Yes. You see, Your Majesty, I can’t help but notice it is nearly identical--from the outside,” he clarified at her father’s rapidly reddening face, “to one I encountered years ago. That particular structure was the residence of a rather powerful witch.”

“Gothel,” her father spat, and all eyes shifted to him. Emma saw Killian’s jaw clench at the name and he gave a single, curt nod in affirmation.

With her mother’s hand resting on his shoulder, her father began the story she’d heard many times over the course of her life. The story of how Gothel heard the regents were expecting and deduced there would be a child born of the most powerful magic in all realms: True Love. That she knew as well that child would have light magic, and that even if it never manifested there would be power in their blood. It was the story of why Emma’s parent’s fortified their home so heavily once word of Gothel’s covetous wish reached them, and why they insisted she train with sword and bow.

“It’s why my little girl was taught to ride like a soldier and not a courtier. Hell, it’s why I gave into her frankly dangerous wishes and allowed her to learn to sail--in case she needed to escape quickly.”

“Does it help to know Gothel can’t harm anyone anymore?” Henry offered helpfully, trying to lighten the weight that had settled on the group. There was general agreement at the table that, yes, it did help. Quite a lot, in fact, and it felt as though the sun broke out from beneath the clouds as they returned to their breakfast.

“Is that what you were concerned about, Captain?” Emma caught herself in time and used his title, not yet ready to have that discussion with her parents.

“The thought had crossed my mind, Princess, but it seems your own construction must have inspired hers for some reason.” He dismissed the thought, though she could practically hear the gears of his mind grinding away. The conversation returned to banal pleasantries about the weather and what game was in season. Her father consulted Killian on the conditions at sea, and in general the rest of the meal was like any other. Like any other meal you share with your family, a new friend, and the man you just shared True Love’s Kiss with less than eight hours after meeting him. Perfectly normal. Emma put on her court smile and commented politely, waiting for her moment to pounce.

“Join me for a walk in the gardens, Captain?” The moment arrived after a lengthy debate about the benefits of traveling by horse in comparison to ship. Thank the gods for the momentary lull as her father’s cup was refilled yet again - Emma didn’t think there was enough coffee in the whole of Misthaven to keep her alert on this topic.

“Of course, Princess.” He smiled bashfully, running his hand through his hair and standing as she rose. “May I?” He offered his arm and she accepted, the two making a long overdue exit.

The grass was still damp as they walked the grounds, the morning sun hinting at a warm day to come despite the slight chill that had Emma leaning in close, basking in the warm line of contact with Killian. “So, what was it you held back up there?” She broke the silence and watched the arch of his brow as he glanced at her. “I’ve always known when people are dishonest, or not fully honest in this case,” she explained. “It’s a feeling, sort of like a rock settling into my stomach. I don’t know if it’s part of my magic or something else,” she shrugged at this and watched his expression shift from curiosity to contemplation. No doubt he was thinking up a way to explain whatever was plaguing his mind.

He remained in that state as they passed her mother’s bed of crimson roses and all the way through the lilies that always made her nose twitch, their heady scent overpowering. Spotting the bench she and Henry had sat on—was that only yesterday?—she took the lead, turning to face him as they sat.

“There are some strange coincidences,” he began. Their knees brushed and she leaned into the contact, hoping her touch might ground him in the present. His past included darkness, and here in the bright morning sun amongst the flowers she hoped to keep those grim memories at bay.

“The tower is the first of them, and I’ve no idea which came first. Given Gothel’s numerous deceits, I’m not inclined to believe any of her tales nor any of Belfry’s—the woman who claimed to be the missing princess, Rapunzel,” he clarified when he saw her puzzled look. “Did you know the witch?”

She shook her head, “Only what my parents told me: that she was interested in my magic and had a reputation for taking what she desired by force.” He expressed clear agreement, and when his focus became distant Emma took hold of both hand and hook. “Whatever it is, that doesn’t change who we are to one another, Killian.”

That must have heartened him, for it earned her a gentle smile. “Aye, love, I suppose you’re right. You see, the other strangeness was Gothel’s impersonation. I’ve never given it much thought, but why should she play at being a princess? I’d no notion who the woman was, yet she changed her appearance, her voice, her name. Why?” He hypothesized then that either Gothel bribed the fortune-teller, planting the man in Killian’s path with a bogus story about happiness in a tower, or that she somehow knew Emma would be important and hedged her bets by occupying her own tower and putting herself in Killian’s path.

“You see, I’ve considered the strangeness of these overlaps and in part I wonder if one of the gifts she or a fellow witch of her coven acquired was prophecy. She seemed to know far more than anyone ought to, and perhaps thought to entrap me and use me to get to you.

“If she knew we were, uh,” he gulped, and flushed a charming shade of pink all the way to his ears. “Destined for one another, then it would be well within her character to exploit that. To make me think she could lead me to my happiness, then snatch you away for her own nefarious purposes. As well, I’m starting to suspect the unaccounted year the townsfolk allude to may well have been a longer span of time than any of you realize.”

It made sense in a way, and while they couldn’t be certain of Gothel’s intentions, Emma was definitely grateful the woman was gone and could do them no further harm. As far as The Gap was concerned, she supposed there was no real way of knowing how much time had passed, only that it seemed like a year. Had she slept as Aurora once had? Every answer seemed to lead to more questions, but Emma resolved herself to focusing on what mattered most first: reuniting Killian with his Alice.

“Despite her purposes, Killian, whatever they may have been,” she reached up and cupped his cheek. His eyes were blue as the sea and she let herself fall into their depths as she brought him back to the present. “Last night, Killian, True Love’s Kiss is potent magic and I think—I’m almost certain, actually—that we broke your curse. We can find Alice, and you can finally hold your daughter in your arms again.”

“We?” He grinned at her, nuzzling against her hand before turning to kiss her palm. “Then you’ll accompany me, love?”

“Of course! I know we’ve only just met, but I think it’s more than obvious how I feel about you given the fact we broke a witch’s curse with our first kiss.” They shared a laugh, shifting so she could rest her head against his shoulder as he draped his arm around her.

“She’s a bit different, my Alice,” he cautioned.

“And we aren’t?” she challenged. “Tonight at dinner, let me handle my parents. We’ll tell them what happened and make plans to seek out Alice. Henry said she’s with someone called Robin—does that name mean anything to you?”

“Aye, that’s Alice’s love. I know where to find them.”

“Then that’s our next course. Reuniting you with your daughter is the first step toward, well, I guess…” she paused, pulling back to meet his gaze again. “I guess toward becoming a family, right? I mean, my parents will have questions and all things considered, I guess we have other planning we’ll need to do in the future, but—“ he cut off her monologue with a kiss. It was sweet and slow, like he was trying to memorize the feel of her lips on his. His tongue flirted with her bottom lip and she twined her fingers in his hair.

Pulling back to meet her eyes, Killian smiled. “I love you, Princess Emma Nolan,” he whispered.

She felt warm all the way to her toes, grinning as she replied, “I love you, Captain Killian Jones.” The two shared a lingering kiss, the spell suddenly broken by a loud whoop of excitement.

“I told you both!” Henry hollered, emerging from his hiding place behind a large oak tree and performing some bizarre dance Emma had never seen. The three laughed, Henry congratulating them on their newly blossoming relationship while Emma and Killian thanked him for the unlooked-for but welcome help.

“What can I say except: you’re welcome.” His smile was bright at the sun and he slung an arm over both their shoulders, walking between them as the three returned to the house and, for Emma and Killian, toward the start of a new life together.

Tagging the usual suspects: @kmomof4, @teamhook, @veryverynotgood, @caught-in-the-filter, @hollyethecurious, @laschatzi, @donteattheappleshook, @lonelyspectator12, @the-darkdragonfly, @zaharadessert, @winterbaby89, @jrob64, @wefoundloveunderthelight, @ultraluckycatnd, @stahlop, @alexa-fangirl-forever, @superchocovian, @monosalvatore16, @snowbellewells, @batana54

[grxceblqckthxrn]

TDA characters as types of tiktokers

y’all KNOW i’m bored when i’m doing this shit lmao 

i’ll get around to doing the other TSC characters eventually TDA was just the first to come to mind also if you’re not actively on tiktok some of what i say might not make sense ahaha

also i named some tiktokers who yall can use for reference for some of them and from what i’ve seen they’re all fairly unproblematic so you should check them out!!

EMMA CARSTAIRS

okay so she’s DEFINITELY super popular and she uses her platform for good

she’s really funny and a lot of her audios go viral posts videos of her dancing saying that she cant dance but she’s actually really good at it

6M followers and growing fast 

 hypes up her boyfriend’s account ALL the time

calls out misogynistic/racist tiktokers through duets and KEEPS THEIR TAG IN THE CAPTION  

 she is not afraid of starting drama lmao

occasionally hops on POV and transition trends but its usually satire 

emma can’t act for shit lmao 

super active on tiktok and has a spam account

people are always asking her to drop the skin care routine but she doesn’t have one?? 

*pushes Zara down* “and no one’s gonna help her?? WOW some world we live in”

JULIAN BLACKTHORN

there’s no way he doesnt  have an art account lmao

a lot of his paintings go viral but 90% of his comments are 14 year old girls thirsting over him

yall know that pottery guy on tiktok?? the cute one?? (i searched up his account just for this post he’s @/daxnewman769) that’s the best way to describe him

literally all the famous tiktokers commission him

probably has like 4M followers lmao

will occasionally make about how respecting women doesn’t make you a “simp”

doesn’t get into tiktok drama tho

posts candid videos of emma and all his jealous 14 year old fans get so pressed but he shuts down anyone who says anything bad about her

sometimes does painting or drawing tutorials and he’s really good at teaching stuff lmao

CRISTINA ROSALES

omg okay so like yall know those really pretty girls on tiktok who are literal models and are always dropping tips on how to frame your face for pictures and best clothes and poses and whatever  ( @/ameliezilber is the first person that came to mind as an example)

thats her

alot of her content is just for the aesthetic

BLING EFFECT

GRWM’s all the time

10 step skin care routine 

GOOD VIBES

has a pretty decent following?? like at least 2 million

has a spam but it’s exactly the same as her main lol

also calls out problematic tiktokers but not by name

her entire account is full of body positivity and does a bunch of stuff on loving yourself

sometimes does POVs and all the comments are like “@ netflix hire her rn”

sometimes posts crack videos with emma and cute vids with mark and kieran

MARK BLACKTHORN

does a lot of reaction videos and duets

a lot of his videos go viral but he doesn’t have a huge following like maybe 800k

 everyone still knows him

gets at least twenty “are you wearing only one contact” comment about his eyes every post

he’s really funny without even realizing it 

sometimes goes inactive for weeks at a time and just forgets that tiktok exists lmao

shows off kieran and cristina ALL THE MF TIME AND EVERYONE IS SO JEALOUS LIKE HOW ARE ALL OF THEM HOT

KIERAN 

doesnt have a tiktok lmao sorry

but shows up so much on mark’s and cristina’s that a lot of people know who he is

DIANA WRAYBURN

unironically does POVs but is actually good at them??

lots of videos talking about the struggles of minorities like LGBTQ+ and POC and women

posts a lot of those vidoes that are like “what to do if you ever get kidnapped” “red flags in relationships” “most powerful parts of the body” etc

probably has like 500k followers 

at the end of the day she doesn’t really use tiktok that much tho ahaha

LIVVY BLACKTHORN:

does a little bit of everything??

posts dance videos sometimes 

omg her transitions are SO good

everyone is in love with her and she has to remind them that she’s a minor (i’m just a kid plays aggressively in the background)

posts videos that are just vibes?? like her skating at night, dancing in traffic with dru/her friends, walking through the city at night etc

lots of lip syncing videos to whatever sounds are popular and all her comments are like “i wish i looked like this” “guess im not eating today” and she gets so upset :((

she wants everyone to know that they’re perfect the way they are!!

also posts POVs sometimes and she’s not that bad at them ahaha 

probably has like 1 million followers 

doesn’t even need a spam just posts everything on her main 

shouts out her sibilings accounts all the time

overall just great energy

TY BLACKTHORN

never posts his face on his main but he does on his spam

yall know those accounts that post fun facts or psychology facts?? his is like that except he talks to explain them and everyone finds his voice SO calming 

he posts a lot of content of animals and everyone is in AWE with how good he is with them

his username is probably theanimalwhisperer or something djkfskjd

every single time he posts Kit on his account all the comments are like “OOH ICU” and “SHIP” and “ASK HIM OUT ALREADY”

he gives 0 shits about popularity on tiktok he’s just posting for fun because he likes teaching people about his interests

so he has like maybe 500k followers

lots of philosophical questions that has everyone questioning their existence

ugh i love him

KIT HERONDALE

be honest this is what y’all were waiting for 

yall know those unproblematic ppl that everyone refers to as the “king(s) of tiktok”???

yeah thats him

SO FUNNY

LIKE HIS CONTENT IS GENUINELY HILARIOUS

lots of sarcasm and satire

think @/adamkindacool  ?? (one of my favourite tiktokers lmao)

does reaction videos for those “pov: im the annoying hot cheeto girl sitting next to you in math class” videos

dark humor (not like rude humor but actual dark humor)

like “i put the baby in the oven and the pizza in the bed” type of jokes back when those were a thing

has like 4M followers but almost every single one of his posts go viral so he’s gaining fast

lots of pranks

starts a bunch of trends

any video he posts of Mina goes viral

sometimes he posts some really weird stuff that has everyone laughing so hard irl (@/benoftheweek)

he NEVER thirst traps but still gets a lot of those weird sexual fairy comments on his posts (iykyk)

TO BE CLEAR I MEAN THE FAIRY EMOJI ONES NOTHING TO DO WITH HIM BEING FAE 

reacts to the comments with a video of him just staring at the screen with the “oh to see without my eyes” or “im just sixteen” audio going on in the background which only encourages them to make more weird comments

anyways everyone loves him

any of his povs are pure jokes meant to make fun of pov’ers

posts maybe one serious tiktok every 5 months that talks about being respectful and using your platform for good

“i miss old tiktok”

posts a lot of random videos of Ty where, again, all the comments are shipping them except even more so on his account because everyone can see his heart eyes for Ty

collabs with Dru a lot and does a bunch of duets of her videos

everyone loves him bye

DRU BLACKTHORN

SO many memes

she deletes any hate in her comments bc she honestly doesnt care to respond to them and doesn’t need that kind of negativity in her life

but one time she got a “the f in women stands for funny” comment and she WENT OFF

does really dark povs sometimes that are really interesting

CLOWN MAKEUP + SCARY CLOWN TIKTOKS ( think @/avani ‘s clown make up posts

REALLY good at makeup and sometimes gets julian to do scary makeup on her for tiktoks and povs (like those ones with stitches over the mouth or skin peeling off)

huge ally!! posts a lot about minorities struggles and white privilege, and acknowledges hers

does movie reviews and stuff sometimes

“types of” videos

pulls a lot of pranks on her sibilings with livvy and sometimes with Kit

lots of body positivity + self love

calls out back-handed compliments

also has a lot of content like Livvy’s of just vibing in LA

julian and emma and mark go off at anyone who sexualize her in the comments

probably has like 650k followers

posts a couple of times a week

BONUS: 

JAIME ROSALES

lots of skateboarding videos idk he just gives me that vibe

doesn’t post that often but is super popular

like maybe 1.5M followers

really passionate about systematic racism

HATES all those privileged white boys using the “this is america” audio to pretend they’re oppressed ( this is a may 2020 thing so it probably wont make sense to anyone who sees this after lmao)

POSTS A LOT OF THIRST TRAPS LMAO 

also posts lots of videos that’s just him yelling about stuff but they’re really entertaining to watch ( like that guy sebastian @/sauceyogranny)

everyone thinks he’s super hot he always shows up in those “hottest boys on tiktok” videos except sometimes he’s just the token POC boy and it makes him mad :( 

DIEGO ROSALES

HIS ACCOUNT IS SO PRACTICAL LMAO

lots of tips 

“what to do if you’re trapped in the desert” “what to do if you’re kidnapped and stuck in the trunk”

doesnt reply to comments EVER unless it’s to clarify a point he made in the video or answer a question

has like 200k

okay thats it lmao im done bye this took me like an hour to make

i’ll get to all the other characters from the other series’ eventually 

also if yall are wondering abt the lack of f*ckbois in this post they’re coming dw

TMI CHARACTERS AS TYPES OF TIKTOKERS

TID CHARACTERS AS TYPES OF TIKTOKERS 

TLH CHARACTERS AS TYPES OF TIKTOKERS

[piracytheorist]

A Kiss for Good Luck (7/15)

Summary: So this is the story of one born lucky, and one born unlucky. Fate will keep making them cross paths, but is it to bring them together, or to test them? Captain Swan AU.

Rating: T (make sure you’re okay with the warnings on AO3) Warnings: This chapter contains mentions of character death and descriptions of past child and domestic abuse.

Word count for this chapter: 4.9k (48k in total) AO3

Read from the beginning: Tumblr | AO3

~

Chapter 7: Emma Swan, October 19th 2011 – October 24th 2015

Emma's senses register very slowly. She first realizes the guy is tasting like rum, and then that he's already pushed her, gently, back.

"I thought it would be a quick kiss," he says and looks slowly up at her. "I have a girlfriend."

"Shit. Sorry."

"'Salright. Go pee."

"Yes. That. Thank you again."

Relieving her bladder and splashing cool water on her face bring her a bit back to Earth. Did she just try to make out with a stranger – one who apparently is taken – because he gave her his turn to the bathroom?

She looks at herself in the mirror. Somehow, though she splashed water on her face while completely forgetting she has make-up on, it has stayed intact, not even a single smudge from running mascara.

She may be drunk off her ass, but she's a good-looking drunk. She smiles at her reflection.

She straightens her back and prepares to unlock the bathroom door when a loud, sharp BANG erupts from outside. The music is still loud inside the club, but Emma can hear people screaming.

Her hand freezes over the key. A shooting?

Some long seconds pass by before a second BANG is heard – and with that, a man screaming. She looks at the window. It's too high to see outside, but it still carries the sounds pretty clear. The people inside are screaming in fear. The man outside is screaming in pain.

Finding some composure, Emma takes her hand away. There's a mop in the corner, and she takes it in her hands. It's not much of a weapon in this situation, but it's better than nothing.

Eventually, the screaming calms down and Emma hears ambulance sirens. By now some people have gotten out, so it's too loud to hear if the probably injured man is still there, or even alive.

A loud bang on the bathroom door and it's Emma's time to scream.

"NYPD! Are you alright in there?"

Emma unlocks the door and opens it. An officer with a bulletproof vest on is looking at her, gun at the holster.

Her alibi provided by locking herself in the bathroom – and the two surprisingly sober people who were waiting outside – is solid, so she's the very first to be allowed to leave. She learns that someone shot a woman in the chest, killing her almost instantly, then shot a man in the hand. She's advised to be careful and not stay alone, but it's not as if she has someone to accompany her.

However, she immediately finds a cab, having a smooth ride to her hostel.

She hears about the shooting on the news the next day, when she gets back to Boston. There are no leads about the killer, though they say he didn't act alone. The injured man is in no danger, but he was a couple with the deceased woman.

The guy she kissed... he mentioned having a girlfriend. And she didn't see him anywhere around after the shots – though she doesn't really have a perfectly clear memory of how he looked like.

Tears fill Emma's eyes. She wants to blame them on the thought that the chance of losing people she loves just like that is another reason why she isn't opening up to anyone, but it just doesn't feel a good enough justification for her crying.

She doesn't want to be cooped up in her apartment for her twenty-eighth birthday, but without any company her main choice is clubbing, and the memories of hearing the shots and the man screaming in pain are too raw, so she contents herself with blowing a candle on a single cupcake with the audacious wish to not be alone.

Tired from a busy workday, she lies in bed, checking her phone one last time. She sees Ingrid has contacted her on Facebook, and she stares at her phone for three minutes straight, having a hard time believing it.

Ingrid says she has been trying to get a visa for years now, but her criminal record especially regarding entering the country had been a big hindrance. A few days ago, her application for a 90-days visa was accepted, and she's asking Emma if it's okay to come see her.

Emma all but bursts out in sobs. She only decided to make a Facebook account a week ago, but Ingrid has been trying to get in contact with her for years, even though she knew there was a chance she may never be allowed in the country again.

She realizes she's too emotional to answer her now, and there's still a part of her that may regret the elated "Yes!" she wants to send back. She turns her phone off and sleeps on that thought.

Her emotions are still reeling from the possibility of seeing Ingrid again, finding out why she'd immigrated illegally in the first place, how she's been doing all this time... how much she's been thinking of Emma. But she still tells her yes, providing Ingrid stays in a hotel and not with Emma. At least not yet.

Ingrid arrives only a week later. Half of Emma wants to meet her at their designated rendezvous the next afternoon; the other half wants to greet her at the airport, perhaps even give her a lift to her hotel. It's the same half that feels guilty she didn't offer her to stay at her place.

The second half wins this round. From the distance, Ingrid looks exhausted and much older than Emma had expected her to look, but when she spots Emma her whole face lights up and she nearly drops her bags.

Fuck it. Who cares anymore. Emma runs to her and hugs her tight, and at once she's eleven and has just learned that that wonderful person is adopting her and giving her a forever, loving home.

"I'm so sorry, Emma. I'm so sorry for everything."

Emma is already crying, and so is Ingrid. Even in the arrivals section that's full of people reuniting, they look out of place. Emma feels a surge of cold when Ingrid pulls back a little, but Ingrid just places her hands on the sides of Emma's face and stares at her.

"Emma, Emma." Her voice is shaking. "You're all grown up. And I wasn't there for it."

"Shut up." Emma hugs her again, knowing that people are starting to stare now, but she doesn't care.

"I should have been more careful... you shouldn't have been left alone like that."

"It was because of my lost passport, wasn't it?" Emma pulls back, but she's not angry, and she's careful to not let Ingrid misunderstand. "When we contacted the embassy in England, to get me new papers so that I could travel back, they looked into your case."

Ingrid nods. "It's not your fault, honey. I should have... I..." She sighs. "I've got so much I want to tell you, and I can't get it out!"

"It's okay. It's okay. How long are you staying?"

Ingrid sniffles, wiping away her tears. "I haven't bought return tickets – yet. I can stay eighty more days, though, as long as my ESTA lasts. That's why I contacted you right as I got it, and why I came so soon. I didn't want to miss any day I could have spent here."

Eighty days. But then she'll have to go back. "Then there's enough time. Come. I'll drive you home."

"Home? Emma-"

"Nope. Forget the hotel. You're staying with me."

The next day, after Ingrid has had her rest and Emma has made them hot cocoa – her mug with cinnamon, Ingrid's neat – Ingrid begins her story.

"At first it was five of us. My parents, me, and my two younger sisters, Helga and Gerda. I might have been the oldest, but my love for my father had blinded me. I thought it was normal to get a beating for every little mistake we made. For every time the food wasn't tasty enough, for every time the house wasn't clean enough. He never did any housework himself, but he demanded it was kept pristine. Otherwise, he would hit us.

"My mother was an only child, her parents died before we were born. Our extended family was all on my father's side, and of course, most of them were just like him. It took me years to even consider that what was happening to me wasn't normal, or okay. Both of my father's brothers were policemen. Both their wives were miserable and distant, in every family gathering I can remember them at. Both of them disappeared at some point. I later learned that the one was dead, probably by her husband's hand. The other one had escaped him and fled the country.

"I got that idea myself before I even learned about her. I thought that, when I would turn eighteen, I'd have enough pull to take my mother and my sisters away, and somehow keep us safe."

Her face turns pensive.

"I didn't get the chance. My mother died one month before I turned eighteen. I panicked, I knew for sure that it was my father, making sure we'd never leave, and I was right, and his plan worked. I blacked out, got depressed. And he got worse. With three women to burst out on instead of four, the beatings got more often, and more serious. I ended up in the hospital three times. Helga and Gerda, once each. And every time, the cop who would ask us if our father ever acted on any 'suspicious' behaviour would be a friend of one of our uncles. We couldn't say anything.

"Until I woke up. That time is... hard." She sighs, the memory clearly upsetting her. "I don't remember much of it. I just remember father beating Gerda badly. She was only sixteen." She shakes her head.

Emma wants to tell her that details aren't necessary, but she knows Ingrid needs to let some of that out.

"I grabbed an old radio and hit him in the head. At the time, I thought I'd killed him. Me and Helga picked up Gerda and ran. We managed to hide for a few days, taking care of Gerda's wounds until she could walk and run, and then we tried to cross to Sweden. They found us... we had been wanted for assault and murder attempt. Murder attempt! We were running, and Helga tripped. Gerda wanted to go back for her, but Helga screamed for us to run. And then they shot."

She covers her face with her hand, and Emma's tears fall.

After a long silence, Ingrid continues. "I knew Gerda was running with me, but I barely felt her presence there. We managed to cross the border, but none of us felt any relief. For three months we were in the streets, pick-pocketing, eating off of garbage, shoplifting a few times..."

Emma looks away. Like mother, like daughter?

"Then we found someone who promised us fake passports. He promised us safe passage to the United States. At the time, it was like a gift from God, Emma. But I made Gerda swear not to follow me if they caught me. But I passed over safely. It was Gerda who was caught."

Emma's jaw drops.

Ingrid smiles. "She was okay. She was deported back to Sweden, and I don't know how she made it, but she did. She got married and had two beautiful girls, her Elsa and Anna. But all those years, until I was deported to Norway, I had no idea..."

"Your father?"

"He died four years after we left. I didn't even care to find out how. I've mostly been in Sweden all this time, reconnecting with Gerda."

"I'm so glad you found her."

Ingrid nods. "When I came here, my contact actually managed to find me a job and someone to teach me English, good enough to pass for a local. I worked hard, stayed in horrible apartments... but you know, it was the '80s. The more time passed, the better it got. I supported fundraisers for domestic abuse victims. I let victims stay in my tiny apartments until they found a safe space. And never... I could never share my full story." Her voice breaks. She sniffles, recovers, and continues. "But I wanted more. I wanted to help someone, and see for myself that they did well. Emma... you were not an experiment, I want you to know. I loved you, and I still do. I wanted you to be happy, I wanted you to have what I didn't have." Her voice breaks again. "And I messed that up. I left you alone, you had nothing, no-one... I failed you."

Emma shakes her head, more tears falling. "You tried. And yes, it sucked. But you changed my life. You have no idea how big it was, how better you made my life because you were there for me. I don't know where I would be if it weren't for you."

They're both crying now, and Emma is the first to hug her.

It takes time. Emma isn't ready to share everything that's happened to her, but she's still glad to have Ingrid back and know she had a very good reason for the things that eventually led to Emma being alone. And, after all, she did search for her. That's huge.

"My aunt, the one who had 'disappeared', found me a little after I was brought back and helped me. We didn't even know each other that well, but we knew each other's pain. A little more than a year after that I located Gerda. With my father and most of the side of his family dead, at least the older ones who shared his stance, it was easier to search around. I couldn't leave the country yet, so Gerda took her family and visited me in Norway." Her eyes tear up again.

What could it have been like, to not have heard from her in nearly twenty years, not knowing if she was dead or alive...

"It was... okay. But I still thought of you. I didn't know what I could do, I was nearly broke for years after I went back. It's only the past four years that I managed to make some money, and all of them were being saved for this exact trip. I will come visit you again, Emma. I don't know how soon I'll be allowed back, but I'll try my hardest. I know you don't need me anymore-"

"I do. I missed you. You have no idea how much."

She smiles sadly. "Perhaps I've got a clue."

She does stay eighty days, which go by way too fast, even with Emma using up her sick and vacation days to spend time with her.

It's the first time since Ingrid was deported that Emma has someone to spend Christmas and New Year's Eve with. It's even bigger for her, considering that Ingrid chose Emma and didn't go back to celebrate with her family.

January goes by too fast, and then Ingrid has to leave.

"I'll visit you in Norway first chance I get. I want to meet your family, too."

"The rest of my family," Ingrid says. "I will wait for you. I'm not perfect with Facebook, but I'll try to keep contact every day."

"Ask Elsa, or maybe even Anna, to teach you next time you meet. They're teenagers, they'll know."

And then she has to say goodbye, and it's too soon, but for the very, very first time, it's a goodbye she gets to say. And it's amazing, how less painful it is, now that it's out there with the promise of a reunion.

The next morning she takes an early walk before work and finds a ten dollar bill on the street.

She looks at it dumbfounded. It's the first time in probably ten years this has happened, and when she walks into her favourite coffee shop, she's still staring at the bill in her hand.

She has a coffee and a big piece of cake, courtesy of the found bill. As she's enjoying her treat, a young woman with bright red streaks in her brown hair sits on the chair across from Emma as if she was just invited to do so.

"Hi," she says all too casually. "Don't freak out, there's just this guy I'm trying to catch and it'll look less suspicious if I pretend to sit with company here." Her tone, facial expressions and hand movements are full in the game.

"What do you mean, 'catch'?"

The woman leans forward. "I'm a bail bond agent. There's a guy I'm trying to catch, and I got word that he comes into this coffee shop quite often. I'm just trying to- speak of the devil." Without changing her expression a bit, she tells Emma, "Don't turn around. He just got in."

"Is he dangerous?" Emma shivers.

"No, no, he was just arrested for some tax fraud." The woman's expression turns serious. "Are you alright?"

Emma's hands are shaking, and the question is out before she can consider it. "Is he gonna be armed?"

"I don't think so. In any case, stay down."

That's it, Emma thinks. The shooting in New York City. Emma lowers her head and leans it a little to the side, managing to get one small glimpse of someone walking towards them.

"Is that him?" Emma says.

"Yes!" the woman says excitedly, exaggerating for cover.

Then the man is right next to her.

"Excuse me," he says, and Emma bites her lip as she looks up at him. "I don't remember seeing you around here. Are you a new customer?"

Emma holds back her surprise. Is he trying to hit on her?

She just shrugs.

The man offers his hand. "My name's Walsh," he says.

"Damn right it is," the other woman says, and with a swift movement of her hand, a handcuff is placed around his wrist.

Walsh looks at them both like an idiot.

"Thanks for making my job so much easier," the woman tells him. "And thank you, too." She winks at Emma, then takes a handcuffed Walsh outside.

Emma sighs, staring at her coffee and half-eaten cake as her heartbeat returns to normal. She knows that this very reaction is different from her panic at first. She turns to see the woman push Walsh into the backseat of a car.

Emma smiles. That was actually exciting.

Her boss is lost in thought all day, so Emma's shift goes pretty smoothly, as boring as retail is. On her way home from work, she walks past a police station and runs into the woman from that morning.

"Oh," the woman says, smiling wide at Emma. "My good luck charm!"

"Your what?"

"You have no idea how long I've been trying to catch that Walsh guy. He may not have any serious felonies under his belt, but he's elusive as hell. And I got a pretty good bonus for him too."

"Oh. Sounds good."

"And it's all thanks to you! Come on, would you like a drink?"

Emma stares at her.

"Oh, no, not in that way," she says and laughs. "Just as a thank you for your help." Her smile is earnest now.

"I didn't do anything."

"You brought me luck. That's worthy enough of at least one beer. And you behaved very bravely at the sight of a potentially dangerous criminal. I think you deserve a relaxing night out."

Normally, Emma can't afford such relaxing nights out. And the woman seems nice. "Okay," she says.

"Great! My name's Ruby, by the way. I know a place around with the best homemade onion rings."

Emma's mouth waters. Ruby has no idea what she just unleashed. She only hopes she can restrain herself in front of her favourite snack.

Ruby is really fun and kind. She doesn't ask any too deep questions that might provoke painful answers, and Emma has one of the best nights out in a while.

She realizes that, not counting her little time with Ingrid the past three months, she hasn't actually had a girls' night out. Not as an adult, at least.

"I'm not kidding, though, when I say you were pretty brave with Walsh. Some people freak out completely. Not that that's bad, but..." she says and looks at Emma, raising her eyebrows.

"But?"

"You know, there are never enough bail bond agents out there. Especially in a city as big as this."

Emma lies in bed that night, mind too full of thoughts to sleep. Ruby went through all the details of her work, and Emma absorbed it all. But, she has done time – not that she felt ready to confess this to Ruby.

She may have the guts to do that job, but probably not the ideal past for it.

Two weeks later, she's outside that same police station waiting to go with Ruby for drinks. Perhaps it's time to talk to her about whether her past would pose a problem to her becoming a bail bond agent.

She thinks she sees it too late; a car, losing control and going straight for the pregnant woman a few steps away from her.

Emma doesn't think; she runs forward, somehow manages to gently push the pregnant woman aside and then jump onto the running car's hood, rolling over the roof and down onto the street.

People are running to them. A man is shouting someone's name, worried. Then Ruby kneels down next to Emma.

"Emma! Are you alright?"

She is. She didn't even scrape her palms while falling down. She stands up, moving every limb and checking for any pains.

"Is it the adrenaline?" Emma says. "I feel fine!"

"You must be the luckiest chick on Earth," the car's driver says, also checking her for any injuries.

"You... you pushed my wife aside," a man says, coming closer to her, side-hugging the apparently unharmed pregnant woman.

"I- I did that."

The woman steps forward and hugs Emma tight. Then suddenly, people around them are clapping. Clapping at her.

She does go into a bit of a shock; David Nolan, the expectant father, takes her to the hospital to check her out for any internal injuries. Mary Margaret Nolan, the expectant mother, sits next to her on the back seat, holds her hand, and can't stop thanking Emma again and again.

Ruby is in the passenger's seat, talking to David, and it's only then that Emma realizes they're in a police cruiser, siren on and all.

After a full examination Emma turns out to be fine – not a single bruise. Once again, hearing the good news, Mary Margaret pulls her into a squeezing hug.

Encouraged by her unusually good luck, Emma tells Ruby about having done time. Ruby just tells her that David owes her big.

And by a week later, she's a bail bond agent.

Next month, she's staring at her bank balance, unable to comprehend having so much money available to spend however she likes.

At this rate, she'll be able to afford a trip to Norway in less than three months. And she does. She sees Ingrid, meets her sister and nieces, and for the first time since Neal left her she allows herself to just relax and enjoy the moment.

It's still not easy. Gerda's English isn't the best, and more than a few times Emma assumes Gerda doesn't like her, and her heart nearly breaks. It takes a lot of reassurance from Ingrid, but by the time Emma has to get back, she's already friends on Facebook with Elsa – Gerda says that Anna will get an account after turning eighteen as well – and they all promise each other that they will meet like that again.

On her flight back Emma gets a window seat facing north and gets a stunning view of the aurora. She hears the flight attendants say how they've never had sighting of it in the very few hours of dark the north gets in the middle of summer.

Emma can hardly believe it. How did luck decide to be so nice to her?

She can't even imagine something sullying her trip, but as she thinks that, she starts worrying that her bad luck will strike again.

It doesn't. Her job goes well, she gets a better apartment with a much kinder landlady, Ruby becomes her first friend in years and David and Mary Margaret invite her for dinner every Sunday, despite having a very loud and time-consuming infant.

The baby is always sleeping soundly every time Emma visits, and when he does wake up he's  calm, surprisingly so according to his parents.

Emma lies in her new bed, on her brand new anatomical mattress, and thinks how it all started because she found that ten dollar bill on the street – the first of many that came later, if she's honest – and decided to treat herself that morning.

As luck would have it. Perhaps it was all a matter of positive thinking.

She grows closer to Ruby and the Nolans and, combined with Ingrid's surprise visit, her twenty-ninth birthday is the first in twelve years that she doesn't celebrate alone.

She starts crying when they sing her the Happy Birthday song. Against all odds, her wish from last year actually came true, in the most unexpectedly heart-warming way.

From that point on, it's only better and better apartments and all holidays spent with either friends in the States or family in Norway.

During one more return trip, she realizes how she can actually afford all these trips now; a dream she couldn't even imagine before.

Her thirtieth birthday is celebrated in Norway; her thirty-first, back in the States, and for her thirty-second, she decides to gift herself and Ingrid something they'll both love; tickets to the Scorpions' 50th Anniversary Tour in Maidstone, England.

Ingrid tries to stop Emma from paying both their plane tickets, but Emma is not having it.

A small part of her remembers what happened after their first and last trip to England, but it's too small a part to stop her from organizing the whole trip.

If Emma is honest, it's one hundred percent Ingrid's fault that Emma loves the band so much. It's one of the things she passed on to her without even trying.

The concert is amazing; even though they have first row tickets, they have lots of space to dance and jump and enjoy the whole concert.

After the concert is over, Emma is waiting for Ingrid a bit farther away from the portable toilets, when she hears someone humming the melody of No One Like You next to her.

"Catchy tune, huh?" she tells him.

"Oh, which one isn't?" he answers. "What a night."

Emma nods. He's definitely a local. "Did you have fun?"

He makes a grimace. "A lot of people stepped on me, I got groped, pick-pocketed, and I got in a fight with my... friend, but you know what?" He shrugs. "Bloody worth it."

"Oh, sorry that you were mugged."

"Ah, it was like, twenty quid. I've known better than to carry credit cards where hands can easily reach."

Emma realizes she had almost everything on her, including her passport. But everything in her belt bag is intact.

"Do you have a ride back home?"

He looks at her, and his expression turns shocked for a moment. "Bollocks. I overshared, didn't I?"

"I mean, I have a car, and space for two... how many of you are there?"

He seems to recoil a bit, raising his hand to scratch behind his ear before putting it back inside his jacket pocket. "Don't worry. We've got a car. And we going right back to Brighton, anyway."

"Oh." Emma pauses. "I don't even know where that is."

The man smiles. "Figured so. From your accent."

Emma smiles back. "I'm Emma," she says, extending her hand.

"Killian," he says, getting his hand out of the pocket and shaking hers. She barely notices that his other hand stays in the other pocket even after his right hand drops to his side. "So... you know that they're actually having a few concerts in the States for this tour, right? How come you decided to fly all over to here?"

"Well, today... or more like, yesterday," she says, checking her watch, "was my birthday. This was more like a birthday gift to me, and of course I'm going to see them in- What?"

He is staring at her with his jaw dropped. "You're not kidding? Tomorrow- or, today, is my birthday."

"Wow. Happy birthday, then."

"Happy birthday to you too. Seems it was a great one."

Emma sighs happily, looking back at the now empty stage. "I'd say one of the best ones." She then turns to him. "Does your birthday seem promising?"

He looks at her; his eyes and his smile soften. And she actually feels butterflies in her stomach.

Wow. It's not like she's been denying herself much, but this look... she takes a step forward before she realizes it.

And he leans towards her.

"It seems that way, aye," he says, still smiling.

Oh, damn him. They both close the distance between them, and his lips are on hers.

~

(A/N: It has happened! They have officially met! Rejoice! But prepare for the next chapter; you know what's coming. Emma spent those four years being lucky, so Killian... >:)

Also, Scorpions did have a concert in Maidstone in 2015 as part of their 50th Anniversary Tour. It took place in July, but I took some creative liberties with the date for this story ;)  )

[mostlikelyshutup]

thoughts while watching the first harry potter:

listen i started this list a little late im ngl but notable thoughts so far are me thinking of dumbledore as a gay idiot and still loving hagrid

do you think hes speaking in parseltongue in the zoo when hes speaking to the snake

forgot boats existed

these idiots do scream a lot dont they

i forgot how light hearted this universe really is in the first couple movies

yer a wizard harry, okay hagrid maybe slide him into it a little better

we get it tuney you have fucking trauma, doesnt mean you should abuse a child

hasnt everyone had their name down since they were born, hagrid? theres a list

i like that his umbrella is pink

are you paying for those damages hargid? stop taking the door off the hinges

though, if the dursleys are, keep breaking shit

speaking about dragons on the the fucking tube, its a miracle harry didnt get in trouble with the ministry sooner

what is hagrid's usual? does anyone know???

fucking Quirrell, cant wait for your epic love story with the dark lord

maybe we should tell the 12 year old how the fuck everyone knows his name, just maybe

they do a great job of getting the wonder down pat

how much money and licensing do you think it took for them to get all these owls on set

ahh yes, antisemitism the bank

how many vaults are in gringotts?? also if harry's vault is the potters vault, a literal like sacred 28 family, one of the original families, and its number 600 something, how many were there before the potters?? did the potters get a vault recently? or is this james and lily's vault?? how rich were james and lily if so??

look at ollivander, crazy tinker uncle, love him

this might be the socialist in me but why do people have to pay for wands if everyone needs one??

why is the dark lords twin wand just sitting around on the shelf, ollie me boy??

do you think thats Harry's true wand or do you think thats because of the horcux thing?? do you harry had to get another wand after he died?? did he? i dont remember the last movie

is ollie me boys actor wearing contacts or are his eyes just like that??

thats a very weird way of showing Halloween 81, very misleading

hagrid said ill predict voldys rise in the first movie so we can have some plot development

hagrid is late to everything isnt he? i can feel it in my bones

i swear ive seen these movies, and ive even read the first book, i just dont remember shit

youd think theyd have someone in the know stationed close to the entrance for the platform, for any muggleborns

ginnys actress really had no fucking lines in this movie did she, just had to stand there

oh wait she said good luck

amazing work ginny

ooh a warm filter

can muggles see the express? like just running from london to scotland

wicked!

you didnt have to show the woman the sad sandwich ron

i think the trolly replenishes magically, i think thats how thats how that works, i want to believe that

god i cant tell if i would love or hate hermione, shes pretentious but so was i at that age

god dont fucking point your wand right in someones face mione

how does mione know who harry is?? why does she care?

look at the tiny first years, might just go and pinch theyre cheeks

MINNIEEEE i love you minnie

looking stunning minnie, the green brings out the sternness in your brow

you go minnie, give your speech, thats my head of house

shut up draco, youre not bond

you pretentious fuckwit, your hair is brassy anyways

if this is a class of kids born in the middle of a war, how big are the usual class sizes wtf

THE FUCKING CLAP

fucking propaganda ron, you slytherin hater

what order are these names going in, did they just randomized the list

oooh we get quiet for the boy who lived, jesus let him keep living

the fact that for the rest of these people its just silent is so fucking funny to me, Harry's just fucking whispering to himself

get their attention minnie

me dads a muggle, mums a witch, bit of a shock for him when he found out

NICK, love to see you buddy

i have no emotional attachment to peeves but i feel i should mention him here

the stairs still piss me off, why the fuck would you make moving stair cases

who sets out gloves for the next day? am i the weird one who doesnt??

Minnie, you are the love of my life

shut up snape you dramatic bloodpurist incel

i know theyre setting him up to be mistaken as the villain but jesus christ hes still an asshole

your robes Neville, you forgot your robes

its weird how they have to learn all these latin charms yet only have to say up to get their brooms to work

why wont you go after him, hes obviously not exactly in control, Hooch

does Hooch only teach first years? she is quite literally the equivalent of a history teacher who coaches football

what the fuck is Quirells classroom

they dont make the house teams because no first years can try out, Ron

MINNIE PLAYED QUIDDITCH?!?!? WHY DIDN'T I KNOW THIS

why didnt you speak up earlier Mione wtf

bc the fire wont give you away, harry, better hide

FLUFFY, WHOS A GOOD BOY

they have much worse things locked up in the school, Ron

Oliver wood is a bloody liar because i still dont fuckign understand quidditch, also theres like 500 rules, wtf

thats a shitty explanation of how the game works, Oliver

BLOW IT UP SEAMUS

SHES TWO FEET BEHIND YOU RON YOU IDIOT

carrot cake? on halloween?

dont shrug as if you didnt literally bully her ron

thought youd oughta know, bit of an understatement Quirell

no duh the trolls left the dungeon ron

lying: the best start to any friendship

we're at a net zero points for gryffindor for the year at the moment

the amount of interaction these kids have with professors is so weird to me, is this what small class size do to kids?? its weird

not comforting Oliver

Okay i understand Oliver simps now, I get it okay

are there no backups or subs for quidditch? feels like there should be, like of all the games

set him on fire mione, i know hes not the villain of the movie but god he sucks

fancy flying from harry fucking potter

okay but also i feel like there are some things we should not trust hagrid with, like hes not that great at keeping secrets

why is harry excited about christmas if he thinks hes not getting presents? i knw there are other aspects but like thats the only reasont o get up early

i always remember this scene at night for some reason??

not just an invisibility cloak, THE invisibility cloak ron

btw who gives it to harry? is it remus? is it dumbledore? is it like an inheritance thing? whats up with that?

there are jumpscares in harry potter

he very much can hide, filch

stop being a narc mrs norris

does harry even know what his parents look like at this point? how does he know who the fuck is in the mirror of erised?? he doesnt have that stupid scrapbook yet does he

oh they nod, sure lets clear up that plot hole

they shouldve put sirius and remus in the mirror in that scene, shown his whole family, wouldve been a nice setup

how does rupert grint already look so tired as a twelve year old

big speech to give to a twelve year old Dumbledore, when you wont even tell him what you see

Emma really does just slam that book on Daniels hand, thats mustve fucking sucked

the fact that ive watched two movies that had Nicholas Flamel in two very different roles this year is very strange to me

well thats probably on account of it being a fucking dragon egg hagrid, now isnt it?

was hagrid a hufflepuff? i think he was, maybe a ravenclaw

yes four, you blonde idiot

that shot is really nice, it sets them apart

what happened to filch to make him such a miserable man?

ooh mention of werewolves, awooo werewolves of london

yeah just dip your whole hand in hagrid, dont be scared of the strange liquid, take a nice little bath

i loev that dog, i want that dog, i want to hug that dog

god just the look of that forest is so bloody cool

wait so is that quirell walking fucking backwards?

maybe ask who the fuck youre talking to before asking other questions??? wtf harry

why are yout talking to the centaur like hes your old friend harry, youve literally never met him before

snape doesnt want the stone at all Harry

god hagrid you sweet stupid man

snape is completely valid for that, if a twelve year old ever looked at me like that i would punch them

Do you think people ever loose invisibility cloaks? like theyre invisible do you think they ever just never get found again

i hate the look of the dog spit, that is so gross

they really left everything in except for the fucking potions didnt they, damn

harry potter walked so queens gambit could run

hermione, posted up

rons stupid in the later movies because he got a concussion as a twelve year old

god harry really posted up to beat up snape in fucking khakis

"I knew you were a danger to me!" Hes twelve, Quirell

let me wait for this weird dude to unravel his head scarf instead of running away

the magic in this movie is real fucking conditional isnt it

just some casual necromancy for the stone? you sure about that voldy, you two faced bitch?

let me choke out this twelve year old real quick

oh yeah why is he able to just avengers endgame Quirell? is there an answer to that? like was that ever found out

do you think voldy passing by him while he hold the stone actually killed him but since he holds the stone hes functionally unkillable and then some magic gets put into him and thats why he can return to life later when he actually goes to the whole afterlife place?

ohhh we're vouching on the blood magic for the endgaming of Quirell

do you think dumbledore came across the vomit flavored bean before or after his sister died?

Mione's got a headband! Looking snazzy!

how did Hufflepuff only get 352 points? Gryffindor literally lost 150 points this year and they only beat them by 50, wtf, is it because they kept getting caught with weed

I wont even speak on the fucking outrage that is this point awarding, its already been spoken on. However, Neville shouldve gotten more points

What if someone just stood up and started challenging Dumbledores math, that would be so funny

some of these extras are really attractive

but james potter is somehow so fucking ugly why did they do that to my mans

hagrid deserves the last shot of this film, i love him, he deserves everything, that stupid sweet man

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Breaking the Curse

Chapter 37: A Normal Routine

He did what he had to do. He stuck to his schedule and the shadows, trying to make it so that no one would ever know that anything had changed in his life. He tried to make it so that no one would notice he was secretly running what was probably the greatest spy circle that Storybrooke had ever seen. It was something to be proud of, but he was old enough that he had no intention of bragging about it. This game was tenuous enough as it was. There was no need to make it worse. So, the day after making his deal with Jefferson, the day of Miner's Day, he did what he always did.

He got up. He took his shower. He made his breakfast. And he went into the shop.

He doubted that anyone noticed.

Miner's Day was always a small uneventful holiday anyway, and with one of the town currently missing, those he encountered seemed nearly as dreary as the weather. No one was in a festive mood. Except perhaps him.

His plan was working. Call after call informed him of that.

The first calls he received were from the cousins he'd set to watch David and Emma. Kathryn's disappearance had gone public and his little bird friends informed him that David had been released for questioning shortly after Emma brought him in. It didn't surprise him. At the moment, Kathryn was missing, but legally she didn't have anything to hold David on. With no body or physical evidence of Kathryn's death, she could have crashed her car and then wandered out of Storybrooke all on her own. Frankly, right now, even if Emma did think she was dead, she didn't have any clues as to who had done it. Sure, it could have been David, or Mary Margaret, or even Regina. But it could also have been Sara Fischer; it could have been Granny. Hell, for all Emma knew at the moment, Kathryn had crashed her car and been kidnapped by a man who could also turn into a bird. For all Emma knew…

Regina knew more than Emma did, even if she didn't necessarily know better. He hadn't spoken to Regina since all this had happened, but he had a pretty clear indication that she was pleased with his work.

The morning after Miner's Day, he got up, got dressed, made himself breakfast, and went to the shop. Shortly after arriving, he received a call from none other than Emma Swan.

"How is it that in the middle of all this the DA is dropping charges against you?" she shrieked into her phone."

"Oh?" he prompted.

"Moe French suddenly claims that you two were up in the woods, talking about the robbery when he slipped. Spencer doesn't believe it, but without Moe's testimony he says he doesn't have enough to charge you, so he's dropping the case."

"Well, that sounds right," he sighed as if he were bored but far from innocent. "It's not unlike what I told you, if you'll recall."

"That's not what I saw."

"What you saw is irrelevant," he dismissed. "If Mr. French is willing to sign a sworn statement, then you can't really be sure what you saw that night. It was rather dark if memory serves."

"Yeah…funny how Moe's truck appears to be back in front of his shop all of a sudden," she snarked.

He smiled. She was fun to debate with. "Almost as funny as my decision to put a five-year extension on his loan. One of life's mysteries, I suppose."

"Yeah…"

"Though I do find it odd that we have a woman missing, and you are taking the time to have this conversation. I rather think you've got more on your hands at the moment than I do."

She hadn't responded kindly to that comment but rather hung the phone up without saying good-bye.

The next person he heard from later that afternoon. It was none other than Dove himself, but he called with news that he hadn't quite expected. He thought he'd update him with news on Kathryn or any problems, but it turned out all was quiet on that front.

"She's upset, but she finally stopped pounding at the door, and so far, no one seems to know we're here."

"Good, keep it that way."

"I've got more you might want to know about."

"I'm all ears."

"Ruby Lucas, Widow Lucas' granddaughter-"

"I know her."

"Right, Will called me just after three. He was just starting his shift when Ruby came in. Apparently, she quit last night. Emma's hired her as some sort of assistant; she was fetching lunch. Just thought you might want to know."

Indeed he did, not just because at the end of the day he was paying the boy to look for handy information like that, but also because it was an unexpected change he hadn't prepared for. Immediately he'd called his man watching after Emma, who confirmed that the girl was in fact staying at the office, but he hadn't figured out yet why she'd been there or what capacity she was working. Frankly, it wasn't until Ruby had left the station, come back with food, and then gotten into the bug with Emma again that he realized she was doing more than just "hanging out," as he'd put it.

He grit his teeth together. The news almost made him miss Dove. He wouldn't have thought to not report it to him. But he was the commander of a tiny army at the moment. Dove was his best, most experienced soldier, he had to put him where he was most useful, and right now, that was with Kathryn. Babysitting her might be the easiest of jobs, but it was the most crucial of the jobs as well. He couldn't risk anyone else taking his post. In the end, he simply told Stan to keep an eye on everything and let him know what was happening.

What was happening…that was the question. It was a question that Stan seemed incapable of answering, not while he kept his distance. He'd followed Emma and Ruby out of town only to watch them stop near the woods; two had gone in, three came out. They'd emerged with David. It was only once they were at the hospital that he'd called to inform him of this. In his own words, David had looked "disoriented." Emma had kept a hand on his back as she led him to the car and helped him into the backseat, the pair had exchanged a glance, and then they'd ended up in the hospital. Emma had taken David in, Ruby left in the car, and not long after Regina had arrived. That was all the information that he had at the time. When he hung up the phone, he sat down at his wheel and started to spin because he could think of no other way to relieve his stress.

This was a delicate operation. These first steps were tedious, and while things were going the way he wanted them to right now, there were unexpected wrenches now thrown into the mix. David, disoriented in the woods, that was one. Regina at the hospital, that was another. Ruby was another. He didn't know what she was doing, didn't know why Emma was using her suddenly. Worst of all, he didn't have any eyes on her. This was the most important step in the process. He couldn't afford any problems or things not done properly. But the only person he could think to send to watch Ruby was the cousin watching Sidney. He didn't want to do that. He had plans for Sidney, or rather he knew that eventually, Regina would have plans for Sidney. He wanted an eye on him, especially if Regina was somewhere that she wasn't supposed to be. He tried to think of a way to get himself into the conversation, a way to insert himself early into the middle of all this, but he came up blank. He had to stay where he was. He had to wait for his opportunity to get involved properly. Besides, even if he did send someone out after her, he had no idea where Ruby had gone. Stan had taken eyes off of her once she left the hospital; she could be anywhere, the police station, Granny's, the woods, anywhere.

So he went home, spun at his wheel as Stan reported Emma's return to the station, and then returned to the hospital before going back to the apartment for the night. He went to bed. He woke up the next morning, got dressed, made himself breakfast, and was just about to go into the shop when his cell phone rang, and he took a call from Dove.

"Hey, just letting you know, I think Mary Margaret is about to be arrested for murder," was his greeting. He quickly pulled out his keys and let himself into the quiet shop before responding.

"What makes you think that?"

"Will Scarlet just called. Ruby is back at Granny's as of this morning. She quit working with Emma yesterday after…she found a heart in the woods yesterday. And Will well…he's got a friend, who has a friend, who worked at the mirror, who knows Sidney Glass and…Will says Emma got the heart's DNA tested and the results are pending, but there were fingerprints on the box that the heart was found in and they're a match for Mary Margaret."

Well, of course, her fingerprints were on it. The box belonged to Mary Margaret. He'd had his goons bury it along with something very special. "No sign of anything else?"

"No." So the shovel shard hadn't been discovered yet. Probably because Emma had sent Ruby and not gone herself, that was one of those problems he hadn't accounted for. But he tried not to panic. Ruby wasn't working the case anymore, Emma was, so there was still hope she'd go out there and review the crime scene.

"And the DNA evidence is still pending?" he confirmed once more, trying to manage exactly how much time he could give Emma before he had to push her in the direction of the crime scene.

"Not back yet, but…I called my cousin, he knows what to do."

He breathed a sigh of relief. If he was to be the mob boss, then Dove was his second in command and doing an excellent job at it. He was the only one of his cousins that actually knew the entire of his plan, or at least what he wanted him to know about it. He was suddenly incredibly grateful for the boy.

"That's good work, Mr. Dove. Very good work. I'm appreciative of the work you are doing on this. It's part of that complicated game I mentioned, and so far, everything is happening as it should…more or less." He meant to hang up, but seeing as how Dove seemed to have contacts that his cousins didn't, he sighed. "Call me when you hear the DNA has been processed."

Not long after that, Mary Margaret was arrested. The call came toward the end of the day. Stan reported soon after Dove's call that Emma had gone into the town to the pet store. Mary Margaret had gone there just after school got out, probably to check on how David was coping with his beloved wife's disappearance. When Emma emerged from the store, Mary Margaret had been cuffed. Emma had taken her back to the apartment, surprisingly, not the jail, but Stan reported quickly that it appeared to be a courtesy. When they both emerged, Mary Margaret was wearing comfortable clothes. Furthermore, after they'd stayed in the station for a while, Regina had stopped by, but then Emma had returned to the apartment. Another call came in after she left. It was Stan again.

"She's going back to the station now. She had a big bag with her when she came out. I think she might have found the knife."

Well, it wasn't DNA or a shovel, but it was evidence against her. It was still early, but he was tired of sitting on his hands, waiting for something to happen. It was time for the Dark One to jump into the fray.

[ohmightydevviepuu]

our little life (rounded with a sleep) / chapter 1

our little life (rounded with a sleep) chapter one / AO3

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful detective. She had blonde hair, green eyes, no family, and she was good at finding people; in fact, she proclaimed this on her office door. “Swan and Humbert,” it said. “Private investigations, missing persons, and bail bonds.”

Only lately, she's been thinking that maybe it should say "Emma Swan: Loner, Loser, Complicated wreck."

Her partner's been killed on a case after she made a deal with her landlord to find what had been taken from him. But when she tracks a possible perp to a bar on the outskirts of town, Emma will find out exactly how deep the rabbit hole goes.

(a FULL rewrite of "the stuff that dreams are made of" completed as part of the 2020 Captain Swan Big Bang Rewrite-a-Thon)

--

with awe and infinite thanks to @captainswanbigbang and the team of mods there ( @optomisticgirl,  @phiralovesloki, @spartanguard, @shippingtheswann)   for running an insanely first-class event.  thanks also to the crew in the discord, who helped me plug MANY a plot hole, and especially to @shireness-says who kept me accountable on so many nights when i was floundering.  

i lost track of how many times i begged @thisonesatellite, @profdanglaisstuff and @katie-dub to read or re-read sections of this; especially to @thisonesatellite who’s been working with me on this story since before the event was official and dedicated many countless hours to suggesting--gently--that i stop banging my head against the wall.  @profdanglaisstuff came through and saved this story AT LEAST three times.  (that is probably a lowball estimate TBH)

--

CW:  canonical character death (minor character) rating:  T/M (mild implied violence, language) AO3

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful detective.

She had long, blonde hair that curled just so at the edges of a face with skin as fair as snow, save for the hint of a blush across the apples of her cheeks.  Her eyes glinted green, like emeralds in the sunlight, and the fall of her lashes was thick and dark.  Emma Swan looked like nothing so much as a fairy-tale princess, but if Emma Swan knew one thing about her life it was this: nothing about it was a fairy tale.

Her hair, for starters, was the product of nearly an hour’s work in front of a mirror most days, curling it and drying it and styling it just so. Twenty minutes perfecting the “no makeup” aesthetic with no less than three base layers before the foundation swept across her cheeks; the thickest mascara wand she could find and the darkest shade of black available completed the look unless she was feeling particularly ambitious and added lash primer.  Contact lenses instead of glasses, though her eyes were naturally green which meant that at least one of her parents probably had green eyes, too, not that Emma knew for sure either way.  But she was beautiful, which was a thing she did know for sure, capping it all off with a carefully curated collection of leather jackets and knee-high boots, black trousers and jeans and pencil skirts, for a look that said very clearly do not fuck with me.

Emma was her actual given name, or at least it was according to the one tangible thing--besides her eyes--that she knew she had gotten from her parents. The letters had been lovingly stitched into the hand-knitted blanket in which she had been found near a diner by the side of the road in Bumblefuck, Maine sometime in the first few hours after she had been born.  Her last name, Swan, had been attached by the one family who had considered adopting her, and had stuck on every piece of official paperwork that followed her from foster home to foster home after they had traded her in to have their own kid.  Sometime around her fourteenth or fifteenth birthday, soon after the first time she had run away, Emma had decided she might as well keep it as not.  Something about believing in herself and saying ‘fuck you’ to fate because no one else was going to do it for her.

No fairy godmothers in this world.

Emma Swan also had a talent:  She was good at finding people, and she proclaimed this fact on her office door.  “Swan and Humbert,” it said.  “Private Investigations.  Missing Persons.  Bail Bonds.”

So, Emma Swan was twenty-eight, as of today; beautiful, but prickly, which was the nice way that people said it.  “Unfeeling bitch” was what Graham Humbert called her, and most days, he meant it as a compliment. 

Last night he had meant it to wound her.  “Heartless bastard” was what she had called him in return after he’d crossed a line she had never intended them to cross.  As Emma pushed the office door open, she was wondering if she should change it to “Emma Swan:  Loner, Loser, Complicated Wreck” before deciding that would probably scare potential clients away.

And for now, at least, she still had a partner.  If she hadn’t scared him away, too.  Emma was furious just thinking about it--their partnership was supposed to be easy and constant, one of the few reliable things she’d found in this life she’d scraped together for herself.

“He’s not here, is he?” Emma asked, sighing, as she walked into the outer office.

“Mmmm?” Ruby murmured, not looking up from her makeup mirror as she fluffed her waist-length, red-streaked black curls until she was satisfied with their volume. “Graham just phoned, actually, said he was gonna be late.”  She pouted into the mirror, testing the longevity of her red lipstick, and finally looked up.  “Whoa, Em,” she said, gesturing at the cropped red leather jacket Emma had selected for the day’s ensemble.  “What’s with the battle armor?  You can’t be like this today, you have a client waiting.”  Ruby snapped the mirror shut and nodded at the inner office door with her chin.

“Like what?” Emma challenged.

“Nope,” Ruby said.  “Not going there.”

Emma glared, just for a second, and cracked a small smile.  “Sleazy divorce case?” she asked, almost hopefully.

“Ah.”  Ruby nodded, like that explained something. “You’re in that mood.  Explains the outfit.  So we’re not solving the mystery of True Love today, then?”

“No mystery,” Emma said.  “Sooner or later, the people you love let you down.  Life lesson from me to you, Ruby.  At least then, they end up here--and we need the eighty bucks an hour.”

“You make it sound so tawdry,” Ruby complained.

“These are our people, Red.”

Ruby paused, eyeing Emma up and down one more time, lingering on the red leather.  “What did he do?” she asked, lowering her voice.  “Do I need to, like, rip out his throat or something?”

And--it wasn’t like Emma hadn’t felt a flash of something when he’d kissed her in the office late the night before, it’s just that it was easier to feel nothing when what you were feeling, most of the time, just plain sucked.

Emma didn’t answer and the silence stretched out until Ruby expelled a breath.  “Okay,” Ruby said, not sounding happy about it.  “Whatever. But--trust me, Emma.  We need this client.”

“He just needs me?”  Emma asked.  “Or, I guess, just one of us?”

“Actually,” Ruby said.  “He said he wants you. He was specific,” Ruby said.  

Emma had a good reputation for someone her age and especially for someone whose resume most closely resembled one of the people she was trying to track down.  But the truth was that clients who came in with a specific personnel request generally went straight for Graham.  

“Right,” Emma said.

“But lower your shields a bit and, you know, smile--but not the kind where you show your teeth because you don’t want to scare them off.”

Emma pushed the corners or her mouth upward with her middle fingers and made sure to bare as many teeth as she possibly could.  “All the better to eat you with, my dear.”

Ruby gave her a wink and an air kiss.  “Any time, babe, you know that.”

Emma laughed, breaking into a real smile.  “I’ll leave that to Victor, I think.”

“It’s cute,” Ruby said, “that you think he’d care, except to come and watch--or maybe help,” and smacked her lips again when Emma rolled her eyes and turned toward the door marked ‘Private.’  She ran a hand over her hair to smooth it, squared her shoulders, and straightened her jacket.

“Shoulders back, chin up, tits out, Em,” Ruby muttered.  “It’s worth way more than a sleazy divorce case, I can smell it.”

Emma braced herself, opening the door and shutting it behind her.

Her visitor stood in the center of the room, facing the window and leaning on an ornate walking stick.  He turned around at the sound of the doorknob and smiled, a sickly, fake thing that flashed just a hint of a gold tooth.  “Ah,” he said. “Miss Swan.  It’s nice to see you again. I’m Mr. Gold--”

“I remember,” Emma said, “sir.” Sir because if what her landlord charged for this place was any indication, to say nothing of what his made-to-measure three-piece suit must have cost, Ruby was right:  they needed this case.

“I have a proposition for you, Miss Swan,” he said.  “I need your help.”

--

Emma sank slowly into her swivel chair, turning to face her visitor and smiling politely--the tight, thin kind that showed no teeth.  She took him in:  his charcoal grey suit with a hint of a sheen on the fabric, the blood red dress shirt underneath, the black tie streaked with gold and just a hint of purple with a matching pocket square at his breast.  

“It would appear,” he said with no preamble, his voice low and soft, “that I’ve been robbed.”  He spoke with a smoothed-over accent; Scottish, perhaps, but every few words there was a syllable with a cadence so foreign Emma couldn’t even begin to place it.

“You seem unsurprised,” Emma remarked cautiously.

“Other attempts have been made in the past,” he said, tapping his cane lightly against the heel of one of his polished leather shoes.  The walking stick, it turned out, was quite genuine, as the man had hobbled slightly when crossing the room toward the visitor’s chair at Emma’s desk.  “I am a man of means with collections representing many varied interests and there are always those who come to me for--” he paused, and Emma sensed the deliberation with which he chose his words, “--help.  Sometimes I am able to oblige them; other times, I leave them to their own devices.”

“You’re saying that you’re a target,” Emma said, “and that something has been taken from one of your collections?”  He nodded, and his hair nearly brushed the tips of his shoulders.  It was long for a man of his apparent dignity, with strands hanging around his face and nearly in his eyes.

“What can I say, Miss Swan?” he asked rhetorically.  “I’m a difficult man to love.”

His eyes had clearly been following hers as she made her mental evaluation of him, and the effect he gave was almost that of a reptile.

“Here’s the thing, Mr. Gold,” Emma said, keeping the smile intact and speaking softly.  “A missing object, stolen from your shop--it sounds like the kind of job the police should handle.  Though I understand why a man in your position might choose discretion above all else, I also know that a man of your means would typically have no cause to approach someone like me directly--which tells me that whatever has gone missing is something of such value that you can’t even take the chance that anyone knows it’s missing.”

His gold tooth glinted again as he parted his lips and nodded his head, almost as if in appreciation.  Emma took it as a confirmation--not that she needed it. Her life had taught her many things, and her skill at reading people had gotten to the point where if she was concentrated and detached, she could tell a lie better than a polygraph.

“What’s been taken from me, Miss Swan,” he said, “has been in my possession for longer than you’ve been alive.”

Emma nodded.  What he said was not a lie.

“Okay,” she said, leaning forward and bracing her elbows on her desk.  “So tell me what I’m looking for.”

“You misunderstand me, Miss Swan,” he said, tilting his head at an angle as he, too, shifted his weight forward.  “I have no need for you to retrieve my stolen property.  I merely require your assistance in apprehending the man who had the audacity to violate me in such a brazen manner.”

Emma gave Gold a long, hard look.  “Robbery is a public menace.  You’re asking me to aid in what could be construed as obstruction of justice.  And you won’t even tell me what--?”

“Let’s just say,” he said, “that it’s a precious object and leave it at that.  Further, I will give you my assurances that it poses no danger to anyone as long as I get it back as quickly and quietly as possible and that it remains my secret.  But it is imperative that I find this person sooner rather than later.  I am, you might say, on something of a schedule.”

“You have a funny definition of justice, Mr. Gold,” she said.  

“My dear Miss Swan,” he said, the tooth glinting, “who said anything about justice?”

“What did they really do?”

“They stole,” he said, and nothing else.

Emma sat back and crossed her arms.

“I would hate to think that I’ve made a mistake in coming to you, Miss Swan,” Gold said, his voice still low, the words turning silky. ”It was my understanding that you are quite...dedicated in your chosen profession and have, for the most part, a record of success in finding those whom you seek.”

Emma managed not to flinch.  He couldn’t know that much about her from the cursory background an internet search would reveal; couldn’t know that she never had found her parents, because the kind of assholes who hand-knitted their kid a blanket and then left said kid on the side of the road were also the kind of assholes who had left absolutely no trace of their identity in any system Emma had access to.   

Had they ever even held her?

She’d never let herself hold her son, because Emma knew exactly what kind of asshole sent their kid out into the world on their own:  the kind that couldn’t be a parent.  The kind that needed to give that kid their best chance.

If she’d held him--if she’d given herself at least that--maybe it would have been easier.

Hell, it certainly couldn’t have been any harder.

“Miss Swan?”

Emma drew in a deep breath and set her shoulders.  “And you have a history with this person, I take it?”

“Miss Swan,” he said, and the laugh that accompanied it was a distinctly unpleasant one, “you will find that there are very few people in our little corner of the world with whom I do not have history.  And this man, I am sorry to say, has an unfortunate history of taking what is mine.”

Emma nodded, slowly.  “Okay,” she said, with some reluctance.  “I’ll check him out.”

“I’m sure you will,” Gold said smoothly. “In return for this service, you will of course expect payment.”

“Our hourly rate is--”

Gold was uninterested.  “Of no importance,” he said dismissively.  “You may invoice me, assuming I don’t find him first.  If I do...let’s just say that bad things happen to bad people.”

“Is that a threat?” Emma asked, incredulous.

“More of an observation, or perhaps an incentive,” he said, and the sickly smile was back.  “Do we have an understanding?”

She nodded again. “Deal,” she said.

“Grand,” Gold said, licking his lips.

“What’s going on in here?” said a voice from the doorway, lilting and accented and familiar.

“Graham,” Emma said, “Mr. Gold would like us to take a case on his behalf.  Mr. Gold,” Emma turned her attention back to their new client, swallowing her reservations because she was good at her job.  She needed that comfort--that belief--because her job was all she had, no matter what Graham thought he wanted.  “This is my partner, Graham Humbert.”

As Graham stepped forward and offered a hand, there was a look on his face that Emma had never seen before.  His eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn’t slept properly--or at all--and his gaze focused on Gold as if he was the only thing in the room.

Something flickered across Gold’s face before he offered Graham his hand to shake.   “Indeed,” he said. “Miss Swan and I have just struck a bargain.”

Emma was sure she imagined the flash of fear that briefly overtook Graham’s features.

--

There were flowers on the table when Emma got home--she grabbed them and dumped them straight into the trash.

“Oh!”  Her roommate, Mary Margaret, walked in.

It all came down to the number seven, which was the number of addresses she’d had in the past ten years, assuming that eleven months in the Arizona Correctional Facility for Women counted as an address.  Graham had hired her, and she’d stayed, in spite of the lack of dental or any other benefits.  Mary Margaret Blanchard had not been looking for a roommate, but they’d met each other and there was the offer of the spare room that wasn’t even properly a room, more like a lofted open space just big enough for a double bed and a small wardrobe, before either of them was quite sure what had happened.  Something had clicked, and Emma had unpacked the three cardboard boxes that contained all of her possessions and tucked the one small cigar box that held her life, such as it was, away in a corner of the office.  

She had a roommate and a job and friends and she hated Graham for putting all of that at risk for something that would never work.  Because if Emma were the type who allowed herself to believe in such things, she’d have said that finding Mary Magaret--and Ruby, and Graham and her job and her life here--had been like coming home; as if she had always been meant to be there.

“Can you believe this shit?”  Emma gestured at the flowers.  “Graham think this is gonna work on me?”

“Yeah, no, those are mine,” Mary Margaret said, then corrected herself:  “Were mine.”

“From the married guy?  Seriously?”

“I know,” Mary Margaret said, then:  “Wait.  How did you know?”

“You’re an elementary school teacher,” Emma said flatly.  “I’m a private investigator.”

Mary Margaret sighed.  “It’s a disaster,” she said.

“It can’t be that bad if there are flowers,” Emma said, eyebrows raised.

“No, that was--no,” Mary Margaret said.  “I just can’t seem to--I feel like a different person when I’m around him.  It’s like I can’t help myself, like I have this need to be with him.”

“Trust me,” Emma said.  “Married guys are never worth it, no matter how good the ‘flowers’ are.” Emma made exaggerated air quotes with her fingers.  “If you need an itch scratched, stick to one-nighters with no attachments, like I do.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you’re--”

“Because I’m what?” Emma’s eyes flashed green in challenge.  Unfeeling bitch, he’d called her, then walked in on her meeting looking like shit, but otherwise as if nothing had happened between them.  

That fit with what she knew of him; Graham was a kind, good-natured guy, and most days Emma felt lucky to have him in her life.  It’s easy, between them.

“Never mind,” Mary Margaret said.

“No,” Emma said.  “Tell me.  What do I do?”

“You’re just,” Mary Margaret said, gesturing expansively, “protecting yourself.  With that wall you put up.”

“Just because I don’t get emotional over men--”

“You don’t?”  Mary Margaret was not the type of person who snorted derisively, which Emma was grateful for more at that moment than she might ever have been; especially since Mary Margaret had no real notion of exactly how much Emma was, in fact, protecting herself from.

Because she did not get emotional over men.

“All I’m saying,” Mary Margaret said, “is that the floral abuse tells a different story.”

“Come on,” Emma said.

“I mean it, Emma,” Mary Margaret said.  “That wall of yours might keep out pain, but it will also keep out love.”  Mary Margaret was all about “mawwaige” and “Twoo Wuv” and refused to give up hope that Emma would find both of those things. 

God, was there something in the water today?  This felt like the second time, at least, she’d been forced to endure some version of this conversation.  One more minute and she was likely to start screaming about patriarchy and freedom and submitting herself to an institution that fails as often as it succeeds, and for what?  A bullshit ideal of fairy tales and happy endings?

Certainly Mary Margaret’s sordid affair was a horrible ‘Exhibit A’ in the case for True Love.  

“He kissed me,” Emma confessed, watching the progression of emotions cross her friend’s face:  happiness, confusion, disappointment, resignation.

“And?”

“It wasn’t a bad kiss,” Emma admitted, watching Mary Margaret’s eyebrows shoot up. “It was nice, I guess.  Easy.”

“And?” Mary Margaret said again.

“And,” Emma emphasized it, “I’m neither of those things?” She threw her hands in the air.  “It’s not what I want, Mary Margaret.”

“Are you sure?”

There was a knock at the door before she could respond, and Emma went to answer it.  Sheriff Nolan’s hand was poised to knock again as she opened the door, and Emma spared a glance at her roommate, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the married guy her friend had been not-so-secretly seeing.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Emma said knowingly, and was surprised at David’s hand on her shoulder.

“I’m here for you, actually,” he said.

--

Heartless bastard.

Emma would have laughed, except she was crying and trying not to throw up at the same time.

--

@kmomof4 @stahlop @katie-dub @imlaxdris71 @snowbellewells @mariakov81 @shardminds​ @carpedzem​ @anne-and-gilbert​ @teamhook @winterbaby89​

[fericita-s]

Mansion House Murder Mystery Chapter 19 posted today, in which Henry makes a confession of a different kind while alone with Emma as she emerges from the bathtub. Will he be able to formulate a sentence? Will she forget about her husband’s murder or her brother’s arrest or her sister’s general awfulness long enough to enjoy something good? What type of bathtub did they use in 1875 and why did I spend so much time researching it when we’re all here for the kissing?

@the-spaztic-fantastic @sagiow helped get this to peak sexual frustration level and drowned all the errors; thank you!

Henry closed the door behind him and kept his eyes on the wooden floor, its grain a headache-inducing blur to his struggling eyes but a safer place to look than directly at Emma.  

Mrs. Stringfellow.  

Who, though a widow now, needed him to not gape at her and instead help her through the tragedy of the past hour.  And needed the dressing robe Anne had shoved in his hands as she ran past him, intent on a different errand, telling him to go see what help Emma needed and to take care of her.  He wondered if Anne knew that taking care of her was what he longed to do.  

And what he feared most.

Alone, with Emma, after ten years? While she was emerging from a bath?

Her voice called him out of his stupor. “Henry, can I have the robe?”

He extended the dressing robe towards the splash of water, the sound of drops hitting  the wooden floor and the sharp intake of breath as she shivered. 

“Thank you,” she said and their hands brushed as she reached for the robe. He turned sideways, then reconsidered and turned so his back was entirely toward her and he was facing the door he had just come through.  But he imagined her more clearly than he would have been able to see her, water running down her graceful neck, droplets of it clinging to her eyelashes. The curve of her backside and her long, elegant arms, covered only by the thin cambric of the dressing gown.  He shook his head slightly, trying to dislodge the image he had so vividly conjured. 

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” he said, trailing off, unsure if he should call her Emma or Mrs. Stringfellow.  He knew which Frank had preferred but it was still a sharp needle to his heart to think of her that way. 

“I’m not sad he’s dead.  I’m relieved,” she said and he was so surprised he turned to face her.

“People often find themselves with confusing emotions when dealing with grief,” he managed.  He wished he had his Bible inside his coat pocket, that he hadn’t taken it out before heading towards the ballroom. 

“I’m not confused either,” she said. “I’m thinking perfectly clearly.  It’s better to be alone than married to him. Jimmy might be an idiot, but he saved me in a way he doesn’t even realize and I’m grateful. I’m more than grateful, actually. I’m… free!”

Henry felt off balance, like he was back at the top step, nervously waiting to see if Jimmy would lose his footing or his own eyesight would cause a plunge down the stairs.  Then, he had gripped the bannister.  Now, there was nothing to hold onto for support. 

“It’s better to be alone,” she repeated.

“It’s best that I’m alone,” he said, feeling like he was falling. He looked up and heard anger in her voice.

“For who?” 

“For the people I’ll hurt.  For the ones who’ve already died.” Her eyes were still on him, and he understood the anger.  She was angry he had left to join the 120th New York without speaking about the man at the river and how he had killed him, his rage revealing his darkest struggles.  Their kiss.  The way he had ignored her afterwards, like she was a temptress or a siren and he had to plug his ears full of cotton to continue work without being dragged down to the depths of the sea. In the tents near battle and in his parish house in Williamstown, he had laid awake and imagined her anger, had imagined his pleas for forgiveness.  But as often as he had thought about what to say, he could not form the words now. 

“All of us have seen death, Henry.  And -” she paused, mercifully breaking eye contact.  When she spoke again her voice was quiet, a slight tremble to it. “I have my own sin to bear on that account. For what Frank has done, for what I knew about and stayed silent on.”

“God will forgive you, Emma.” He took a step towards her, raised a hand to cup her cheek though he let it fall before making contact. “If only you - “

“If only I what? Ask?” Her voice had changed.  She was angry again now, though still quiet.  “Then why haven’t you?”

“I have. I ask God for forgiveness every day.  I’ll ask you too if you let me.  Because I am so sorry Emma.  So sorry I Ieft without explaining why.  So sorry I didn’t forgive myself when it might have meant I had a chance to be with you.” He lifted his hand and this time, he rested it on her cheek.  Her skin was cool from the bath and he wiped at tendrils of hair that clung to her cheek, tucking them behind her ear.

“Why did you come?” she whispered.

“Because your sister said you needed me.” He brought his other hand up to her face, holding her like she was fragile though he knew she was not.  That if the war and her marriage and this night hadn’t broken her, that nothing would.

Neither of them moved. 

“Do you?” he asked. “Do you need me?”

[tempo-takoyaki]

Hi. Okay, this might be a weird question and I'm too embarrassed to go off of anon lol, but I like your TPN opinions so far, so... In the case of Norman & Ray and Norman & Emma, who do you think is the most clingy (needing physical affection) out of either two? :3 (btw sorry for the messy english, I'm not sure how to phrase it but just tell so if you don't understand the question ^^;)

I’m glad you like my thoughts! ^^ (also don't worry your English is fine)

So, who would be the most clingy? Well, when it comes to the trio I always saw it like that:

Emma: Gives and receives affection easily and often. Due to her personality, people tend to let her easily into their personal space, but she knows to respect it. She likes giving marks of physical affection, but she doesn’t particularly needs it that much in fact. She is just… at ease with it.

Ray: Can easily show small marks of affection (headpats, hold hands, hands on the shoulders...etc). I feel like he knows other don't see him as a clingy person but he actually needs those physical contacts often. While he has trouble receiving affection (something he corrects after the escape), he absolutely has no trouble giving it. And unlike Emma, he needs to. 

Norman: Due to Emma’s antics, he is very used to receive physical affection, and accepts it happily. But also because of that he never really had to ask for it. So when it comes to giving it, he is often at lost, mostly doing mechanically to please others rather than himself. But he needs to receive those marks of affection to feel better, and it’s a real problem for him when people surrounding him don't understand that he has trouble sincerely asking for it.

Now, it looks like Norman & Ray would be the most easily physically affectionate, but it’s only taking in account their default mode. Because there’s Emma. And Emma has been an in-bewteen for them during years. She receives the affection Ray can have trouble giving and gives to Norman the affection he can have trouble receiving. So if you take Emma away from the two of them they just… Don't know what to do with each other since they aren’t used to directly give affection to the other boy. Two confused birds. 

Ray can think that since Norman doesn’t easily gives affection he might actually not like receiving it, and Norman doesn’t know how to ask to be clingy because Emma used to give him his daily dose of physical affection. So I feel like they would be kind of distant at first before finally talking about it and accept to be more physically affectionate with the other. But it would take them more time than Norman & Emma for example. 

Norman & Emma are very casual about it to me. So they can seem clingy, but it’s just… so common with them that it’s almost a habit. But unlike Norman & Ray who would be distant for days until finally giving up and give each other a really big hug (for example), Norman & Emma are more about regular small marks of affection. It’s less spectacular than Norman & Ray every three months and Ray & Emma who are probably the duo the most about physical affection, to an uncomfortable point.

Ray & Emma (I do it as a bonus cause I like Norrayemma) are the most affectionate, and it’s very impressive. When it’s not Emma almost jumping on Ray, it’s Ray always having a hand on her (hand, head, shoulder… waist if we’re going there). It’s always a shock for their surroundings who never saw Ray as the type to be THAT affectionate with anyone, but he actually really likes physical contact (with pretty much anyone, not just Emma), so it always makes him happy.

To summarize it : Norman & Emma don't particularly needs more affection than they already give to each other, Norman & Ray act distant until it explodes and become super clingy, and Ray & Emma are freaking gremlin. I also want to add than they all are casually affectionate without any trouble when they are all together.

I hope my answers satisfies you ! ^^

[jrob64]

Happy Birthday Eve, @xsajx!

This story and banner were created as a birthday gift for my good friend @xsajx. (I’m actually posting this on the day before her birthday, since she will be gone on the actual day.) Hardly a day goes by that she doesn't make me laugh by telling stories about her clumsiness, love for all things sweet, or overall silliness, and by the typos which we blame on her autocorrect angry elf. She is my biggest cheerleader and encourager, and I'll be forever grateful for the day I decided to add her to my taglist!

Loads of thanks to my loyal beta, @hookedmom, and the ladies of the CSMM Discord for their writing sprints and feedback. 

And my undying gratitude to @spartanguard for the excellent manip to turn Emma into a FedEx driver! 

Summary: Killian Jones lives alone in his secluded little house in the country, and that’s just the way he likes it. When he discovers he can have even less contact with people by ordering supplies online, he jumps at the chance; but the fiery blonde FedEx driver who delivers them might make him rethink his lonely existence. A CS fic based on the music video for “The Words” by Christina Perri. 

Rating: M

Words: 11,744

Also on Ao3 & ffn

*********

Lonely No More 

It was a lonely existence, but one he had voluntarily chosen for himself. Killian Jones knew about loneliness, after all; had lived it most of his life. His childhood was spent living in a crowded, dirty city in England, yet even among all those people, he sought solitude. He had his brother and his ailing mother, and didn’t need or want anyone else, including his mostly absentee father, who abandoned his sons for good once his wife died. 

Now, he lived in Maine with lots of open space around him. His little house wasn’t anything fancy, but it had everything he needed. He spent his days chopping wood, taking care of his garden, and nurturing the orchids he grew for the flower shop located in a nearby city. The trips he made to deliver them and to purchase necessary supplies, provided the only interaction he desired with other people. 

Books were his friends. Books held no expectations and didn’t make him feel self-conscious or uncomfortable. He could lose himself in sea adventures, jungle safaris, and space travel, or learn about horticulture, cooking and shipbuilding. 

Recently, he splurged and purchased internet service. The florist had suggested it as a way for him to order his supplies online, instead of having to make an extra trip into the city to buy them. He also set up an email account, so she could let him know ahead of time how many plants she required. 

Today he was awaiting his first delivery of floral supplies, along with two new books he was excited to read. He had to admit that having everything coming to him was going to be much more convenient. 

As he was tying up the stems on an orchid plant he would be taking to the shop the next day, he looked out the sunroom window and noticed a cloud of dust being kicked up along his lane. He quickly snipped the ends of the thin strings and moved through his house to emerge onto his back steps. 

The white FedEx truck was stopped beside his old pickup and Killian descended the stairs to meet the driver. He could hear noises coming from inside the vehicle and figured the delivery man was searching for his packages in the back. While he waited, he leaned on his truck’s tailgate and dug some potting soil from beneath his fingernails, so he was startled when he heard a woman’s voice say, “Do you know how freaking hard it is to find your house?” 

His eyes shot up to take in the scowling blonde who was jumping out of the truck to the ground, balancing two packages in her hands. 

“Excuse me?” he asked, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. 

She rolled her eyes. “I said, your house is almost impossible to find! I’ve been driving around for fifteen minutes and now I’m behind getting these deliveries made. Why don’t you have your house number on your mailbox or something?” 

“I...I guess I’ve never thought of doing that.” 

Her green eyes flashed. “Well, you should think about it! If you’re gonna live out here in the boonies, you could at least make it easier on delivery drivers!”

“I’ll take that into consideration.” 

She nodded her head in satisfaction, then looked at the label on the top package. “You are Killian Jones, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

She glared at him. “Seriously? I’m more than likely younger than you and you’re calling me ma’am?”

“Umm…” 

“Emma.”

“Pardon me?” 

“Whenever you order anything, I’ll probably be the one making the delivery, so you might as well know my name; it’s Emma Swan.” 

“Oh. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Emma Swan, and I’m very sorry that my house was difficult for you to find. I also apologize for causing you to be delayed.”

A smile crossed her face and Killian felt like the sun had suddenly broken through the clouds. “Thanks. I only have four more deliveries to make anyway, so it’s not that bad.” 

Killian realized she was still holding his boxes. “Here, let me take those. I’m sure you need to be going.” 

She handed the packages to him and gave him another smile. “Yeah, I do. Now that I know where you live, I won’t need to yell at you next time, okay?” 

“I would appreciate that, lass, er um, Emma.” 

“I can live with ‘lass’,” she laughed, turning to head back to the truck. 

Killian stood slack jawed, wondering why her laugh had such an effect on him. 

She climbed onto her seat, started the engine, and called out to him, “Will I see you soon, Killian Jones?” 

“Oh, uh, y-yes. I’ll probably be ordering supplies on a regular basis.”

“Okay. Until next time!” 

He shifted the packages so he could raise his arm to wave, then watched the white vehicle disappear down the long lane. 

*********

Killian laid on his side in bed, staring at the book in front of him, but unable to concentrate on the words. He flopped onto his back and ran his hand over his face and through his hair. Images of flashing green eyes and blonde tresses preoccupied his thoughts and he couldn’t seem to shake them. 

Perhaps it was because he had so little interaction with other people, but he never reacted to the few he did meet the way he had with Emma Swan. He knew it was absurd to be so affected by someone he met for such a brief time, but there was just something about her that captured his attention. 

He folded his arms behind his head, his white T-shirt stretching across his chest as he sighed. He could still hear the pleasant sound of her laughter, as well as her melodic voice - when she wasn’t yelling at him. 

Giving up on doing any reading, he closed the book and placed it on the nightstand, then switched off the lamp. When he finally managed to drift off to sleep, his dreams were filled with flowing golden hair and sparkling emerald eyes. 

*********

Grocery shopping was one thing Killian despised and would put off until there was barely any food left in the house. The day he realized he could buy most of his groceries online was a happy one for him. 

As he checked the cupboards and made a list of items he needed, he couldn’t help but look forward to the next day delivery guaranteed by his upgraded membership. Since FedEx was named as the preferred delivery method, he knew his excitement stemmed from more than just having his food supply replenished.

The next morning, he felt the unprecedented need to dress in his best blue checkered flannel shirt with a gray henley underneath. He set out for the back of his property to chop a bundle of firewood, stopping often to survey the vehicles passing by on the highway in the distance, hoping to catch a glimpse of the white truck with the distinctive orange and dark purple logo on the side. 

After carrying the wood to his house and stacking it on the porch, Killian puttered around inside; oiling a squeaky hinge, fixing the leaky bathroom faucet, and nailing down a loose floorboard in his bedroom. In between jobs, he looked out the window, checking the lane for any approaching delivery trucks. 

He heated up leftover beef stew for lunch, dipping pieces of soft, white bread into the rich broth. As he ate, he flipped through a magazine, trying to find an article of interest to help distract him from thinking about her. 

By mid-afternoon, he was beginning to wonder if the delivery tracking app was wrong when it showed that his packages were supposed to be delivered that day. He was outside stacking crates in the bed of his truck and folding the green tarp he used for covering the flowers, when he saw the cloud of dust at the end of his lane. His traitorous heart began to beat faster as he spotted the FedEx truck headed his way. 

Not wanting to appear too eager, he finished his task and placed the tarp in the cab of his pickup, while the delivery truck came to a stop. When he glanced up, he saw the flash of a blonde ponytail disappearing into the back storage area. 

By the time he walked over to stand beside the white vehicle, Emma had emerged with two large boxes balanced on top of one another. She stepped carefully onto the ground and Killian hurried to take them from her. He had assumed they weren’t heavy since she didn’t seem to struggle carrying them, but was surprised to realize the combined weight of the two boxes was rather substantial. 

“How are you today, Miss Swan?” he asked politely. 

“I’m fine, Mister Jones,” she smirked. “My name is Emma, remember?” 

He knew he would have been nervously scratching behind his ear if his hands were empty. As it was, he felt the heat moving up his neck. “I didn’t want to be too forward.” 

“So you’re a gentleman, huh?” 

“Indeed I am.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t have told you my name if I didn’t want you to use it.” 

Killian smiled. “Duly noted.” 

“I notice you have your house number added on your mailbox now.” 

“Aye, better late than never, I suppose.” 

Emma laughed, which caused his heart to speed up just like the last time. “All of your other delivery drivers will appreciate it, too.’ 

“There are no others. You’re my one and only,” he blurted, then wished the earth would open beneath his feet to swallow him. 

“That’s good to know,” Emma laughed, stepping back up into her truck. “Have a good day, Killian.” 

“You too, lass. Drive carefully.” 

“Yes, Dad,” she grinned, then put the truck into gear and waved.

Realizing his hands were full, instead of waving, he nodded his head and graced her with one of his rare smiles, which she returned before driving away.

He carried the packages into the house, with the smile still on his face. 

*********

Usually, Killian was content when he went days on end without going into the city or having any interaction with other human beings; but as the week after the delivery of his groceries progressed, he felt restless. He found himself searching the shopping app for items which would be useful, even though they weren’t necessary. 

He knew he shouldn’t spend money on frivolous purchases, but since he had more than enough savings in the bank, he didn’t really feel guilty about buying a few things. Still, his finger hovered over the ‘place order’ button for several seconds before he finally tapped it. 

That evening as he soaked in his vintage, claw-footed bathtub, he started having second thoughts about what he had done. He couldn’t believe he ordered things he didn’t need just so he would get to see Emma again.

Laying his head back on the rim of the tub, he sighed deeply. He was probably reading too much into her friendliness and was sure she treated all the other people on her delivery route the same way. 

He leaned forward and scooped water into his cupped hands, then splashed it over his face and through his hair. Regardless of whether or not he had done the right thing, his order would arrive tomorrow. 

As he pulled the plug to drain the tub, climbed out and began to dry off, he came to the conclusion that his excitement over having Emma arrive in her FedEx truck was because of the novelty of having packages delivered to his house, instead of having to make the trip into town. Perhaps seeing her would become routine, and soon his heart wouldn’t race every time he saw the delivery truck coming up his lane. 

*********

“This is getting to be a habit,” Emma remarked, hopping down out of the truck with a small package in her hand. 

Killian’s fingers found the spot behind his ear which always seemed to itch when he felt awkward. “Aye. I’m sure you’d rather not have to make deliveries all the way out here.”

“I really don’t mind, Killian.” 

His hand brushed against hers as he reached to take the box, and the feel of her soft skin caused a tingling sensation to travel through his fingers. He noticed she wasn’t quick to pull her hand back and he lifted his eyes to look into her face. She was wearing a soft smile that he couldn’t imagine she gave to all of her other customers. 

He felt her fingers slowly glide against his as she finally let go of the package and stepped back. 

“I guess I’d better be on my way,” she remarked. “Do you, uh, will you have more orders arriving soon?” 

“Oh, um, I...I don’t know. Possibly. I forgot a few things when I ordered my groceries last week.” 

Her smile brightened. “Great! I’ll see you before long, then. Goodbye, Killian!” 

“Goodbye, Emma.”

“Don’t worry - I’ll drive carefully!” she quipped before taking off. 

He shook his head at her banter and stood in the driveway, until the dust created by her vehicle had completely settled.

*********

Killian was amazed at how light his heart felt in the following days. When he made his bi-weekly trip to the flower shop to deliver his pots of orchids, the florist noticed. 

“You seem to be in a good mood,” she commented. “I mean, not that you’re usually grumpy or anything, but you just seem...different.” 

“Do I?” he asked. “Well, this batch of flowers is of exceptionally good quality, so perhaps that’s the reason.” 

She threw him a skeptical look, but didn’t make any further comments as she wrote a check for him. 

*********

Killian had become engrossed in repotting some plants and wasn’t waiting outside when Emma made a delivery the following week. By the time he glanced up to see the familiar truck sitting in his driveway, she was already striding toward the door carrying a large box. 

He quickly brushed his hands off over his workbench, then rubbed them down the front of his jeans. She knocked on the door just as he reached it. 

“Did you forget I was coming?” she smirked through the screen door. 

“No, I was just working.” 

“You work from home?” 

“You could say that. I grow specialty flowers to supply a florist in the city.” 

While he was talking, she was peeking in the window beside the door, which looked into his sunroom. “Oh, wow! You grow those? They’re gorgeous!” 

“Would you, um, would you like to come in and see them more closely, or are you not supposed to go into your customers’ homes?”

“We’re strongly encouraged not to, mostly for our own safety, but I trust you, Killian Jones.” 

A bright smile stretched across his face as he pushed the screen door open, being careful not to accidentally bump her with it. “Come on in.” 

She stepped into the house, glancing around for a couple of seconds before following him into the sunroom. He took the package from her hands, laid it on a chair, then stood back as she walked around his workbench, marveling over the beauty of the orchids. 

After she walked completely around it, he began telling her about some of the complexities of growing the fragile flowers. She listened attentively, hesitantly reaching out to lightly stroke her fingers over the silky petals. 

When she realized she had been there for over five minutes, she declared that she had to get back to work. As she made her way to the door, he plucked one of the stray blooms off of the bench. 

“Swan?” he said, causing her to stop in her tracks and look back at him.

He stepped over to her and shyly held the bloom out, then ducked his head and scratched at the back of it after she took it. 

“Thank you, Killian. It’s beautiful.” She twirled the stem between her fingers and looked up at him from under her lashes. “You’re very talented.” 

“Oh, I don’t know about that…”

“I do. And you’re also very sweet.” 

As the tips of his ears reddened, she turned, pushed the door open and made her way to the truck. He watched through the screen to see her gently lay the flower on the dashboard before driving off. 

*********

The next time the FedEx truck came rumbling up the lane, Killian was sitting on his back steps, bundled in his olive green, Sherpa lined coat, and wearing a heather blue infinity scarf around his neck. It was a Thursday towards the end of October; the last leaves were clinging to the bare branches of the trees, and a front had moved through, dropping the temperatures with the first true cold snap of Autumn. 

He stood up as the truck stopped and strode over to stand beside it, waiting for Emma to emerge from the back with his latest purchase. When she did, he sensed a difference in her demeanor immediately. The slight smile she had pasted on her face wasn’t natural and didn’t reach her eyes. 

As soon as she handed him the box, she mumbled, “Here you go, Killian. Have a good day,” and began to climb back into the driver’s seat.

“Emma, wait,” he called, causing her to pause before getting behind the steering wheel. “Is something wrong?” 

She stood stock still for several moments and he wondered if she was warring with herself about whether to confide in him or not. He gave her time, not wanting to pressure her into saying something, but hoping she would, since something was clearly bothering her. 

Finally, she turned back to face him with tears shining in her eyes. “To-today is my birthday...” 

Automatically he responded, “Happy birthday, Swan!” then realized two tears had escaped the confines of her lower eyelids and were tracking down her cheeks. He carelessly tossed the package he was holding onto the open tailgate of his pickup and closed the space between them. 

Acting on instinct, he reached up to brush the tears off her cheeks, and the simple gesture seemed to break the dam. A few more tears fell as Killian implored, “Emma, what is it? Tell me what’s wrong.” 

After several seconds, she took a deep, shuddering breath and wiped her face with her sleeve. “I’m sorry, Killian,” she whispered in a tear-thickened voice. 

“You have no reason to be sorry, lass, but perhaps you could share whatever it is that’s burdening you. Is it something to do with your birthday?” 

She kept her head down, as she explained, “I just...I don’t have any family - never have - and it’s hard every time my birthday comes around, because all it does is remind me that it’s been another banner year of being alone. I wish...I wish...you know what, I’ll be okay. Forget it.” 

“Making a wish is one of the traditions of birthdays, I believe,” he observed. “Please tell me your wish, Emma.” 

Raising her head at last, she looked at him with a sad smile, “I wish I didn’t have to be by myself on my birthday.” 

“I can help make that happen, if you’ll allow me.” 

“Killian, no. I didn’t tell you this so you would feel sorry for me.” 

“What I feel for you is empathy, Swan. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit of a recluse. I have no remaining family myself, and I haven’t gone out of my way to make any friends since moving here from England several years ago. I would be happy to keep you company on your birthday.” 

“Really? Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I am. Would you feel comfortable coming here to have dinner with me?”

“Um, sure. Do you want me to bring take-out from somewhere?” 

He rubbed his finger behind his ear. “I thought I might cook the meal. I’m no chef, but I can hold my own. Do you have any food allergies?” 

Her smile brightened. “Umm...no, no allergies, and I’m excited to taste your cooking! Is there anything I can bring?” 

“Just yourself. Shall we say seven o’clock?” 

“That works for me. I should probably go, so I can finish the rest of my deliveries. Thanks so much, Killian - I’ll see you later!” 

“One moment, Swan. Perhaps I should, uh, perhaps we could trade phone numbers, just in case…” 

“In case you want to cancel?” she asked, trying and failing, to make it sound like a joke as her smile faltered. 

“Of course not. I just thought it would be a good idea to have each other’s number. That way, if you’re running late, you can call so I won’t worry.” 

“Oh, okay. Let me put my number into your phone, then you can send me a text and I’ll have yours.” 

Once that was done, Emma bounced up the steps of her truck and dropped into the seat. “See you tonight!” she called as she slid the door shut, fastened her seat belt, and drove off. 

He watched her go with a fond smile on his face, then hurried into the house to decide what to make for her birthday dinner. 

*********

By the time Killian saw headlights coming up the lane, he was pulling dinner rolls out of the oven while the loaded potato soup simmered on the stove. He stepped out onto his back porch to see a yellow Volkswagen come to a stop, and heard the hinges screech in protest when she threw open the door to climb out. She tried to close it, but it wouldn’t shut completely, so she bumped it with her hip in a move he was sure she used on a regular basis. 

Turning toward him, he could see the beaming smile on her face - quite a different countenance than she’d had earlier in the day. 

“Good evening, Love,” Killian greeted. Even in the low light, he saw her brows raise at his use of the term. 

“Hello again, Killian,” she returned, brushing past him as he held the door open for her. “Wow! Something smells delicious!” 

He held her coat as she shrugged out of it, then hung it on a hook in the entryway. “I hope you like salad and loaded potato soup.” 

“I like anything, pretty much. If I was home tonight, I would probably be having leftover pizza from last week. Potato soup sounds like heaven to me!”

They moved into the kitchen where he pulled a chair out for her at his small table, went to the stove to ladle soup into two bowls, then sprinkled shredded cheddar cheese on top. He placed them on the table where the basket of rolls and plates of salad were already waiting. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer you in the way of drinks,” he apologized. “I wish I had some wine or…” 

“No problem. Water is fine with me.” 

He took two glasses from the cupboard, dropped some ice cubes in, then filled them with water from the faucet. 

Emma was stirring her soup, inhaling deeply. “I can’t wait to try this - it smells so freaking good!” she declared. 

He chuckled. “Well, dig in then, Swan,” and watched her surreptitiously as she did. 

“Mmmm…” she moaned after taking her first bite. “This tastes amazing!” 

Her moan sent a warm sensation through his body, and he cleared his throat before speaking so his voice wouldn’t betray the wash of longing it set off in him. “I’m, uh, I’m glad you like it.” 

“Did you actually make this, or have you hidden the cans you opened somewhere?” 

“No cans to hide - I made it from scratch, and I grew the vegetables for the salad in my greenhouse garden out back,” he grinned, tearing off a hunk of bread to dip into his bowl. 

She watched him before doing the same. “How about the rolls? Did you make them, too?” 

“Ah, now those I just warmed in the oven. I had them in my freezer.” 

“Oh, you just burst my bubble, Jones. I thought you were a master chef and baker!” 

“Well, I didn’t have room in the oven to make both fresh rolls and your birthday cake, so I chose to make the cake,” he smirked. 

Her eyes grew wide and she laid her spoon on the table. “You...you made a cake for me?” she gasped. 

He slowly nodded his head. “Aye, and I hope you like chocolate. It’s a recipe of my mum’s and it’s my favorite. I also made buttercream frosting for it.” 

“I love chocolate! I can’t believe you did that!”

“Well, everyone should have a cake for their birthday, although I don’t usually bother to make one for myself.” 

“Do you know what I did last year? I bought myself a cupcake and a little blue star candle and took them to my apartment. Then I stuck the candle in the cupcake, lit it, made a wish and blew it out.”

“Did your wish come true?”  

She looked him in the eye. “I wished I could have someone in my life to talk to, even if it was only one person. It’s one of the reasons I started working for FedEx. I thought if I was making deliveries to different houses, I would meet people, but most of the time, they’re too busy to talk, or they don’t answer my knock, so I just leave the packages at their door. Then I started coming here and, well, I guess you could say you made my wish come true, Killian.” 

He ducked his head and busied himself with stirring his soup. “You’ve done the same for me, Swan. It gets lonely out here by myself, but I have no desire to live in the city. I enjoy chatting with you when you deliver my purchases, and I, uh...I have a confession to make.” 

“What’s that?” 

She waited for his answer while watching his ears turning red. “I...well...I’ve been ordering things I really don’t even need, just so I can see you.” 

Reaching across the table, she covered his hand with her own. “I think that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” 

He raised his eyes. “You do?” 

She nodded. 

“I have another confession to make,” he admitted. She squeezed his hand to encourage him. “I, uh, I asked for your phone number because I thought perhaps I could call you in between the deliveries you make out here.” 

“I’d like that, Killian. I hope you won’t mind if I call you sometimes, too?” 

“That would be nice, Emma.” They shared a smile, then he observed, “Perhaps we should finish our soup before it gets cold.”

*********

After they finished their dinner, Killian carried the cake in, along with dessert plates and clean forks. 

Setting the cake in front of her, he apologized, “I’m sorry I don’t have any birthday candles. I’ve never had any need for them.“

“Maybe you should order some to be delivered,” she smirked, and he laughed. 

“If I did have candles, how many would be necessary?” he asked hesitantly. 

“Are you trying to ask me how old I am, Jones?” 

He shrugged. “Maybe?” 

She giggled, causing him to grin. “I’m twenty-nine.” 

He began cutting the cake into large squares, then lifted a piece out of the pan to place on one of the plates. As she watched him, she inquired, “When is your birthday, Killian?” 

“In January.” 

“And you’ll be…?” 

“Thirty-three. I’ve got a few years on you.” He laid a fork on the plate, slid it across the table to her, then set to work plating a piece for himself. 

“Less than four. That’s hardly anything,” she commented.

Once he was seated again, he looked at the beautiful woman across from him. “Even though you don’t have a candle to blow out, would you still like to make a wish, Love?”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes and concentrated, until a smile crossed her face. When her eyes blinked open again, she saw him watching her. “You know I can’t tell you what I wished for or it won’t come true.” 

He reached across the table to give her fingers a squeeze. “I truly hope it does.” 

They ate their cake, with Emma exclaiming over how delicious it tasted. When they finished, she tried to help him clean up, but he wouldn’t hear of it. “I’ll just clear away the leftovers, then take care of the dishes tomorrow.”

He insisted on sending some of the food home with her, giving her a generous amount of soup, three rolls, and several pieces of cake, all of which he packaged and put into a cardboard box. 

“I seem to have a lot of these piling up, for some reason,” he quipped, and she rolled her eyes with a grin. 

Soon all the food was squared away and the two of them stood together in the kitchen, feeling a little awkward. 

“Would you, um, would you like to watch some television?” he asked. 

“I should probably go home. I have to work tomorrow.” 

“Oh, yes, okay. Well, I’m very happy you were able to come over tonight.” 

“So am I, and I can’t thank you enough, Killian. This is the best birthday I’ve had for as long as I can remember!” 

“It was my pleasure, Emma. Oh, by the way, I have a gift for you before you go.” 

“You don’t have to give me anything; you already made a delicious meal and cake for me.” 

He took her hand and tugged her along behind him into his sunroom. “I want to do this, Swan,” he told her, stopping in front of his work table, on which sat an orchid with pale pink blooms. He picked it up and turned to hand it to her. “Happy birthday, Love.” 

“Killian, I...I can’t take this! You grow these for the florist…” 

“I grow these to share with people,” he interrupted, “and I can think of nobody with whom I’d rather share this one.” 

She set it back on the table and wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

He returned her hug, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling her scent. 

When they finally separated, he held her coat for her as she slid her arms into it, then carried the box to her car while she carefully handled the plant. They placed everything on the passenger side floor, making sure the flower was secure. 

As they stood in front of the driver’s door, Killian remarked, “That’s quite the vessel you captain there, Swan.” 

“It’s paid for and it gets me where I need to go.” 

“Ah, of course.” 

He dropped his eyes shyly, until he heard her say, “Well, I guess I should get going. Thanks again for everything, Killian.” 

“You’re very welcome.” 

Both of them remained still for several moments, not quite knowing how to end the evening. Finally, Killian said, “I’d, uh...I’d like to see you again, if that’s okay. I mean, besides you coming here to make deliveries. Would you be interested in going out on a proper date?”

Emma graced him with a brilliant smile. “I would like that very much.” 

“I’ll call you tomorrow evening to set something up. Perhaps dinner and a movie?” 

“Sounds good! I’ll look forward to it!” 

Stepping forward, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, but before she could move away from him, he put his hands on her waist and pulled her closer. Looking into her moonlit eyes, he saw acceptance for what he was planning to do, and in the next moment, his lips found hers.  

The kiss was gentle and sweet, and he could feel her breath quicken as his lips glided over hers. After a blissful few seconds, he reluctantly broke the kiss, licked his lips, and smiled at her. 

“Goodnight, Emma. Drive safely.” 

“I will. Goodnight, Killian.” 

He opened the door for her, and closed it once she was settled behind the wheel with her seatbelt fastened, bumping it with his hip as he had seen her do, to make sure it was latched. 

She gave him another smile and a wave as the engine rumbled to life, then turned the car around and started down the lane. Killian went back into his house, still smiling to himself, not realizing that with his kiss, he had already made Emma’s latest birthday wish come true. 

*********

After spending the following day watching the clock until he knew Emma would be home, Killian was true to his word and called her. They arranged to go out the next evening to a nice, quiet, out-of-the-way diner outside the city. 

Just before ending the call, he suggested wearing casual, warm clothes for the second part of their date. He thought of something to do after dinner besides a movie, but wanted to make the suggestion face-to-face with Emma, to get her honest reaction. He did ask her if she liked horror movies or if she scared easily, because he didn’t want to put her in an awkward situation during their date. She assured him that she enjoyed things that got her heart racing.

On Saturday, he made a delivery of flowers to the florist in the city, then spent a couple of hours cleaning out his pickup truck and washing it. He wished he had a more luxurious vehicle, but he knew she probably wouldn’t care, considering the car she drove. 

It felt like time was moving at a snail’s pace all afternoon. He took a bath, trimmed his beard, and dressed in jeans, boots and a heavy red and black plaid flannel shirt. Then he spent some time figuring out the best route to take to her apartment, not putting his trust in his phone’s GPS, and checked his appearance several times before the clock finally showed it was time to leave. 

It had been years since he last went on a date, and he hadn’t been on one at all since moving to Maine. Going out with women always made him feel awkward and anxious, so it became something he chose to forgo. Tonight, however, he surprised himself with how much he was looking forward to going out with Emma. 

He pulled up to the curb in front of her apartment building almost ten minutes early, so instead of going in and knocking on her door, he sat in his truck, fidgeting and repeatedly smoothing the hair on the back of his head. 

When his phone dinged with a text message, he grinned as he read it. You don’t have to sit in your truck until the exact time, you know. I’ve been ready for over an hour.

He exited the truck and looked up at the third floor, spotting her standing in one of the windows, waving at him. He grinned in return, then entered the building and took the elevator to her floor. She opened the door before he even had a chance to knock, wearing a bright, though slightly nervous, smile. 

“Swan, you look...stunning,” he said sincerely, pulling a bouquet of Autumn flowers from behind his back, and causing her smile to grow wider. 

“Oh, Killian! They’re gorgeous! Fall colors are my favorite! Come in so I can put these in some water.” She stepped off to the side of the doorway to usher him in, taking the bouquet from his hand and automatically bringing it up to her nose. 

“Look, I haven’t killed the plant you gave me yet,” she said proudly, using her free hand to gesture toward a small table in front of the window, on which sat her birthday orchid.  

“That’s good. I think if you had, it might be a new world’s record for murder of a plant!” he chuckled. 

He could hear her rattling around in her small kitchen, opening and closing cupboards, followed by the sound of running water. When she emerged, she held a bright yellow plastic pitcher with the flowers inside. 

“I’ve never gotten flowers before, so I don’t have a vase,” she explained, setting the pitcher on the table beside the orchid. 

“You’ll need to cut the stems diagonally under running water and trim the leaves off below the water line; that makes cut flowers last a little longer,” he informed her. “There’s a little packet of plant food tucked in there to sprinkle in the water, too.” 

“Should I do it right now?”

“No, it can wait until later. Are you ready to go?” 

“Is this okay for what you have planned?” She swept her hand downward, indicating her dark jeans, knee-high boots, black and white striped sweater, and dark red, fleece-lined coat. 

“It’s perfect. The Weather Channel says it’s only supposed to get down into the low fifties tonight, so you should be warm enough.” 

“The Weather Channel, huh? What are you, like sixty years old?” She laughed as he rolled his eyes, then added, “You have me very curious about what we’re going to do.” 

He opened the apartment door and allowed her to lead the way into the hall. “Right now, we’re going to eat dinner,” he teased. 

“Yeah, I figured that out, Sherlock. I was talking about after we’re done eating.”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he assured her, following a step behind as she walked down the stairs. 

*********

The diner was a cozy little nook which wasn’t too crowded, and allowed them to have an uninterrupted conversation all through dinner. Killian was a bit shocked with how easily he was able to talk to her, after being alone for so many years and having limited contact with other people. She was a good listener and had him laughing with stories of some of her delivery mishaps. 

At the end of their meal, he asked if she would like to have dessert or coffee. “Actually, I’d like some hot chocolate,” she said, “with lots of whipped cream and a sprinkling of cinnamon.” 

“That sounds...interesting.”

She saw his raised brows. “What?” 

He opened his mouth, then hesitated before responding, “Nothing.” 

“Don’t knock it until you try it, buddy.” 

“I’m feeling adventurous tonight.”

When the waitress brought the beverages out, he took a tentative sip, then gave a whipped cream-enhanced smile. “Not bad, Swan.” 

“Told ya,” she gloated. “So when are you gonna tell me where we’re going next? I’ve been very patient.” 

“Indeed you have. I’m not sure how you’ll feel about this, so if it’s something you’d rather not do, don’t be afraid to tell me.” She nodded her agreement, and he went on. “I found a farm a few miles from my house which offers haunted hayrides through the woods.” 

Her eyes lit up. “Really? That sounds like fun! What time does it start?” 

“The first one is at eight o-clock and there’s one every forty minutes until midnight. We should be able to go on the third one of the night.” 

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go get the begeezus scared out of us!” 

He chuckled at her enthusiasm. “We still have time to finish our cocoa, Emma.” 

“Oh, yeah. I’m just so excited! I’ve never been on a hayride of any kind before, let alone a haunted one!” 

Killian was happy he was getting to witness some of her first experiences that evening, and that she was so receptive to his idea. He had worried that she would think it was a silly and childish thing to do. 

Every moment he spent with the fiery blonde had him becoming more and more fond of her, and when the voices in his head started chanting that he could get hurt, he shut them up immediately. He was tired of being lonely, and was ready to take a chance with this woman, who was already well on her way to capturing his heart.  

*********

The couple enjoyed the hayride, which turned out to be more humorous than scary. Emma had trouble controlling her giggles as people dressed as zombies with bad make-up jumped out at them from the woods with chainless chainsaws, rubber knives and fake machetes. 

Killian didn’t mind the occasions when she was startled, because she kept jumping closer to him on the hay bale on which they were sitting. By the time the half-hour ride was over, he had his arm around her, holding her close against his side. 

Before leaving the farm, they purchased hot apple cider and caramel popcorn and took it back to his house. 

“Would you like to watch a movie, Swan, or will that make it too late for you to get home?” Killian asked, showing her into his living room. 

“I can get home after midnight; I won’t turn into a pumpkin...or a zombie,” she smirked. 

“Shall we continue on with the scary theme?” 

“That’s fine with me. I like horror movies, but I don’t really enjoy watching them by myself.”

They chose a movie from Hulu together and sat on the couch as they watched, munching popcorn and sipping their cider. About an hour into the movie, when the food was gone, Emma gravitated toward where he was sitting and was soon leaning against him. He encouraged her snuggling by wrapping his arm around her shoulder and resting his cheek on the top of her head. 

Killian was not a person who welcomed human contact - most of the time he would avoid it if possible. So he was surprised to realize he not only enjoyed Emma’s body being close to his, but almost craved her touch. Several times she hid her face in his chest when she knew a particularly scary scene was coming and he held her tighter, boldly pressing kisses into her hair. 

When the movie ended, he reluctantly released her, allowing her to sit up. She turned to look at him and he asked, “Did you like it, Love?” 

“The movie or the date?” 

“Both, I guess?” he shrugged. 

Instead of answering, she leaned in and kissed him. His eyes widened in surprise at first, then he let out a happy sigh and allowed his lips to caress hers in return. He felt the fingers of one of her hands find their way into the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck, while the other slid up his arm to squeeze his bicep. 

His hands didn’t stay idle, as he ran them from her waist to massage her back. He lost himself in the kiss and found himself wishing it wouldn’t end. When it did, he drew back to look into her shining eyes, then dove back in for more. 

Finally, they both had a need for air and separated, though they maintained contact with their foreheads pressed together. 

“Can I take that as a yes?” he grinned. 

“It is most definitely a yes,” she assured him. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve had such a good time!” 

“You didn’t find the haunted hayride to be a bit feeble?” 

“I loved it! This date was so much fun, Killian. I truly have enjoyed every minute of it...especially the last few,” she added, winking at him. 

He laughed deep in his throat and pulled her in for another hug. “I’ve had a really good time, too,” he murmured against her temple. “Would you be interested in going out again?” 

“I’m assuming you mean with you?” 

“That was kind of the idea, yes.” 

She pressed her lips to his again. When she pulled back after several sweet moments, he licked his lips and said, “Not that I’m complaining, Love, but do you ever just answer with a yes or no?” 

She threw her head back and laughed, and he took the opportunity to scatter small kisses along the creamy skin of her throat. Her sudden intake of breath told him the effect they had on her. 

“I...I would love to go out with you again, Killian; more than once, if possible.” 

“I think that’s entirely possible.” He settled her against his chest once more and they sat comfortably together, her fingers finding the gold chain around his neck, while his stroked up and down her upper arm. 

The chimes of his grandfather clock signaled the hour of one o’clock and he reluctantly sat up and put some space between them. “I’d better get you home, Swan.” 

She heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I guess so. You probably need your beauty sleep.” 

“It’s how I retain my youthful glow,” he responded cheekily.

She laughed again and he realized he could listen to that sound for hours on end, if given the chance. 

Killian went out to start the truck while Emma put her boots and coat back on. Soon they were on the road back to her place. 

“Do you like living in the city?” he inquired as they drove along the highway. 

“Not really, but I’m not lucky enough to own a house out in the country.” 

“Lucky is a good word for it. I happened to be in the right place at the right time to purchase it, and got it for a steal. It’s quiet and far away from other people, so it has plenty of privacy, which I value.”

“I figured that out by the number of things you order so you won’t have to make trips into the city.”

He glanced over at her with a shy smile. “I don’t allow many people in, Emma. In the past, I’ve found it very difficult to trust them, because they always let me down.” 

“I can identify with that.” 

“You, uh, you said you never had a family…”

“Nope. I was abandoned at birth and never got adopted.” 

“Ah, I see. I actually had a family, but my mum died when I was very young, my father abandoned my brother Liam and me, then Liam was killed in an accident. I’ve been alone for nearly fifteen years now.”

“It sucks, doesn’t it?” 

“Aye, but I’ve gotten used to it.” 

Silence fell for a while as the truck passed three mile markers. Finally, Emma broke it by quietly asking, “Do you think you would like being a little less lonely?” 

He glanced over at her before directing his eyes back to the dark road. “I would if it meant we were being less lonely together.” 

*********

When they arrived at her apartment building, Killian hopped out of his side of the truck and hurried around it to open her door, taking her hand as she exited and not letting it go. They took their time walking up the three flights of stairs, exchanging few words, but numerous smiles with each other. 

“Do you want to come in?” she asked as they stopped outside her apartment door. 

“I might want to, but I really should get back home.” 

“Busy day tomorrow?” 

“Not really, but I was planning on calling a certain lovely lady at some point in the day.” 

“Lucky girl.” 

He moved closer to kiss her briefly. “I guess you are.” 

Looping her arms around his neck, she initiated another kiss, this one lasting far longer. Pulling back at last, she said, “I had such a good time tonight, Killian. Everything about it was perfect.” 

“I’m very happy to hear it. Shall we do it again soon?” 

“I would really like that. Will I, um, will I be making any deliveries to you this week?” 

“I do have some floral supplies ordered.”

“Good.” 

They shared another lengthy kiss before he stepped back. “Goodnight, Emma.” 

“Goodnight, Killian.” Unlocking and opening her door, she threw him one last dazzling smile, then walked inside and closed it behind her. 

He stood leaning against the wall for a few more moments, then blew out a breath and touched his fingers to his lips, remembering the way they tingled when they were touching hers. 

********

In the following weeks, Emma and Killian called or texted each other daily, and went on several more dates, using every opportunity to get to know one another better. He looked forward to the days when she made a delivery to his house, since it gave him another chance to see her briefly.

It became more and more difficult for him to say goodbye to her at her apartment after their dates. Sometimes he would accept her invitation for hot chocolate and they would talk and kiss for an hour or so, but he never pushed it any further. He wanted her to know that he respected her and would wait until she decided the time was right to take their budding relationship to the next level.                                                                                                          

Christmas was quickly approaching and the couple had been dating for nearly two months. Early one evening, Killian was beginning to worry when Emma wasn’t answering his phone calls or texts. He knew it was past time for her to be home from work, and because there had been periods of freezing rain throughout the day, he started to imagine the worst when he thought of her having to drive her delivery route on icy roads.

He was pacing back and forth across the kitchen, hoping his phone would light up with her name, when headlights illuminated the room. Knowing there was only one person it could possibly be, he threw on a coat, hurried out the back door, and jogged down the steps. 

She was bumping her car door closed with her hip as he reached her. “Swan, what are you doing here at this time of night? Is everything okay?” 

“Everything is fine. I just have a delivery to make.” 

“A delivery? I don’t think I’m expecting anything. What is it?” 

She took a step forward and ran her hands up his chest. “Me.” 

His eyebrows raised in surprise and it took a second for what she was saying to register. When it did, he put his hands on her hips and pulled her closer. “Is that right?” 

Looping her arms around his neck, she ghosted her lips against his as she said, “Yes, it is.” 

“Shall we go inside, Love?” 

She leaned back and looked into his eyes. “Just so we’re clear, Killian - when we go inside, I want more than one of our usual make-out sessions, no matter how much I enjoy them. Is that...is that okay with you?” 

“Well, it would be rather rude of me to reject such a special delivery,” he chuckled a little nervously. Then he grew more serious. “Emma, I...it’s been a long time since I was in any kind of relationship, and it didn’t end well. I don’t want to...to...what I mean is…”

She took his hand and started leading him to the house. “Let’s talk inside. I’m freezing.” 

After shedding their coats and boots, they sat together on the couch with their fingers intertwined. “What were you trying to tell me, Killian?” she asked, watching his thumb rub over her knuckle. 

“The last woman I dated broke my heart. That’s one of the main reasons why I made the decision to leave England all those years ago, and I haven’t dated since. So what I’m trying to say is, I’m out of practice.” 

She twisted in her seat, and the next thing he knew, she had flung her leg over his lap and was straddling him. Her hands came up to the sides of his face and she leaned her forehead against his. 

“I’ve heard it’s like riding a bicycle,” she said. He chuckled and she sat back to look at him. “My sexual experiences have been very few and far between, too, but we can figure it out together. If you want to, that is.” 

“Oh, I want to, Emma - that’s not the problem at all. It’s just that, in the past…” 

She put two fingers over his lips. “Let the past stay in the past - those are ghosts we can’t control. This is now, and I want you. I know the scariest part is letting go, but I’m yours to choose, so why don’t you take what’s right in front of you, Killian?” 

He contemplated what she said for less than two seconds before surging forward to engage her in a passionate kiss. It grew increasingly heated until he felt that if he didn’t do something soon, he was going to internally combust. 

He wrapped her securely in his arms and pushed to his feet, not breaking contact with her lips. Her legs automatically went around his waist and she moaned deeply into his mouth, causing him to nearly stumble. 

His bedroom seemed so much farther away than the few steps it actually was, but when he finally made it to the edge of his bed, he eased her onto it gently. Then he stood looking down at her as she reached for him, her hair spread out in a tangled halo, her lips kiss-swollen, and her eyes dark with desire. 

“Killian, please,” she panted, “I need you.” 

Her fingers scrambled for the button of his jeans before he stilled them with his hands. “I...I don’t have any protection,” he admitted. “I’ve been meaning to get some, but…”

“I’m covered and clean. Been on the pill for months to regulate my cycle,” she explained, pulling her hands free. “Do you have any other excuses?” 

“No, no excuses. There is just something I need to tell you. I know this may be too soon for you to hear, but I want to say it so you understand this isn’t just a one-time thing, to scratch an itch.”

She swallowed hard as she looked into his eyes, the expression in them so intense she was almost afraid to find out what he was going to say. “What is it?” she managed to ask.

“I...Emma...I’m in love with you,” he stated, tenderly brushing her hair away from her face.

“Y-you are?” she squeaked. 

“Utterly and completely. I think I have been ever since the moment you yelled at me during that first delivery you made. I’ve been wanting to tell you, but I didn’t know how, and I didn’t want to take this next step before I did.” 

“You actually love me?” she asked, with disbelief lacing her words.

“Aye, Sweetheart. I love your sense of humor, your determination, your boldness, and your stubborn streak.” She grinned at that. “I also love your ability to see past the walls I’ve built to keep people out, in order to see the lonely person inside. No one has ever made the effort to do that before.” He paused a moment, before continuing, “But don’t worry, Love. I’m not telling you this to pressure you into saying…”

“I love you, Killian.” 

“...it,” he finished, a look of awe crossing his face. “Do you really?” 

“Yes. At least, I think I do, if this is what being in love feels like. I’ve never felt it before. All I know is that I think about you all the time…”

“Same.” 

“And every time I talk to you, my heart races and…” 

“I can’t stop smiling.” 

“Exactly! And whenever you touch me, it’s like my skin is...is…”

“Like an electrical current is running through it?” 

“Yes! Is that what being in love feels like?” 

“I assume so. I’ve never been in love before, either.” 

Emma giggled adorably. “Well, now that we’re clear on how we feel about each other, what else is keeping you from ravaging me?” 

He grinned at her and ran his hands up her sides underneath her sweater. “Just this jumper,” he said as he pulled it over her head. “And these jeans, and bra, and...you’re wearing far too many clothes, Swan.” 

“Hmmm, I guess we better do something about that. You have a lot of clothes on too, you know.” 

In a flash, she tackled him and had him on his back in the middle of the bed, while she knelt above him, undoing the fastener of his jeans and pulling the zipper down. He lifted his hips to help her tug them down his legs until he was in his boxers, and she licked her lips as she took in the sizable bulge he was sporting. 

She felt his hair tickling her fingers when she ran them up his legs and into the openings of his underwear. One hand fondled his balls while the other found his shaft, stroking it lightly. Her eyes moved up his body to watch the effect she was having on him. 

His eyes were closed and he was biting his lower lip. His hands reached up to grip the pillow under his head and he groaned, “Bloody fuck, Emma! That...that feels so good!”

She continued running her hand along his velvety skin, stopping periodically to brush her thumb across his slit, until he gasped, “P-please stop, Love. I...I don’t know if I can...hold back if you keep doing that.” 

She gave him one more gentle squeeze, then removed her hands and sat looking down at him with a smirk, before swinging around on the bed to yank off her socks.  As she reached for the button of her jeans, he stopped her. “Let me do that, Love.” 

She hopped up off the bed to stand in front of him, clad only in her bra and jeans. “Okay, but I get to finish stripping you first.”  

“As you wish,” he conceded. 

She pushed his flannel shirt off his shoulders and, once he pulled his arms free, lifted his henley over his head. Seeing that she still hadn’t reached bare skin yet because of the white undershirt he wore, she blew out an exasperated breath. 

“Holy shit, Jones! How many layers of clothes are you wearing?” 

“I live in Maine and it’s the middle of winter. What do you expect?” 

“I expect to get naked with you, but I didn’t know it was gonna take until the New Year to get you there!” 

He laughed as she grabbed the hem of the T-shirt to drag it up his body. Her eyes danced with delight as she took in his muscular chest with its generous peppering of hair. He tried not to squirm as she lightly ran her fingers through it and stroked along his ribcage. 

“You’re gorgeous,” she breathed, watching her fingers as they moved. 

“Not nearly as much as you,” he responded, bringing his hands up to spread them over her sides, and rubbing his thumbs under the elastic of her bra. As his hands slid around to the back of it, he looked up at her through his lashes. “May I?” 

She nodded and held her breath as he made quick work of the fasteners, then she pulled her arms through and let the bra drop to the floor.  

Killian lovingly caressed her breasts, strumming his thumbs across her nipples, which hardened immediately under his ministrations. “Beautiful,” he whispered. 

He bent to take one of her pebbled nipples between his lips, running his tongue across it, then sucking lightly. When it garnered a gasp and soft moan from her, he sucked harder, while his left hand squeezed and fondled the other breast. 

Emma’s eyes closed and her head dropped back as she enjoyed the sensations passing through her body. Her fingers found their way to his hair and she scratched through it, giving little tugs to the ends. 

Every sigh and utterance went straight to his groin and soon he was even harder than her stroking had left him. He moved his mouth down her stomach before realizing she was still wearing her jeans. He fumbled with the button for a few seconds before she reached down and undid it herself. 

“So impatient,” he growled, undoing the zipper and shoving her jeans past her hips. 

She peeled them off, stepped out of them and kicked them aside, as his hands moved around to squeeze her ass, while he nibbled on her hip. She went to work in earnest to completely wreck his hair. 

“Touch me, Killian,” she begged.  

He hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties and quickly disposed of them, inhaling deeply to take in the heady scent of her arousal. Now that he had her completely naked, he guided her back to the bed, encouraging her to lay down. 

Before she did, Emma helped him remove his boxers. She knew by feeling him that he was well-endowed, but seeing it made her eyes widen. “That’s quite a package you’ve got there, buddy.” 

He laughed. “I hope you’ll enjoy the delivery I make to you!” he said with a lopsided grin, causing her to roll her eyes playfully. 

Finally lowering herself to the bed, she scooted back and laid down. He aligned himself beside her, looking into her face. “You are truly a very beautiful woman, my love,” he said, before leaning in for a sweet and tender kiss. 

He ran his fingers across her collarbone, along the side of her breast, and down her ribcage. She giggled a bit at the tickling sensation and then drew in a quick breath as his fingers pressed between her thighs. She automatically widened them to allow him better access and moaned as he swiped through her slick folds.

“So...so wet, Swan,” he declared, watching his fingers stroke her, picking up more of her creamy essence on each pass. 

“Mmhmm. K-Killian, please. Get inside me. Make me...make me come,” she whimpered. 

In response, he tentatively pushed a finger into her heat. “More…” she encouraged. 

Nodding, he pulled out and added a second on the next gentle thrust. “How does that feel, Love?” 

“Insanely good,” she gasped, placing her hand over his, urging him to go deeper. 

He continued working her up while his mouth kissed up her body to give attention to her breast. 

Her head was rolling side-to-side on the pillow, her eyes closed and her mouth open to emit short panting breaths. He could feel her legs begin to quake as she drew them up and let them fall open, allowing him more freedom to explore. 

“Can you take more?” he asked quietly. 

Unable to form words at the moment, she simply nodded her head up and down. He pulled his glistening fingers free, knocking her hand away, and slowly pressed three fingers into her, watching her face carefully to discern any discomfort. Once they were completely enveloped in her welcoming heat, he twisted and curled them, then rolled his thumb over her bundle of nerves. 

The effect was immediate and intense as her walls squeezed his fingers and she cried out, “Yes! Killian!” 

He continued to stroke her as her body gradually relaxed, and his mouth latched onto her nipple again, sucking and licking to help draw out her ecstasy a bit longer. 

When she finally came down from her high, she opened her eyes. “You call that being out of practice?” she teased. 

He slid his fingers out of her and dragged them up her body, leaving a trail of her arousal which he followed with his tongue. Reaching her mouth at last, he uttered against her lips, “Perhaps it IS like riding a bicycle,” then plunged his tongue into her mouth. 

After overcoming her surprise at the sudden intrusion, she gave back as good as she got, filling the room with sounds of clashing teeth, smacking lips, heartfelt moans, and heavy breathing. He settled his body over hers and her legs came up to encircle his hips. 

Feeling her wet, hot, heat rubbing against his cock, he began grinding to add some friction. “Fuck, Emma! Feels so good!” he panted. “I need more!”

 She desperately nodded. “Yes, pleeease!”

Loosening her legs, she let them fall to the mattress, giving him room to maneuver. 

“Guide me, Love,” he requested, dropping his forearms to rest on either side of her. 

Taking the opportunity to run her hands through the soft hair on his chest again, she slid them down his body to his fully erect member, drawing the head through her abundant slickness. 

Killian was struggling not to thrust into her hand and come before he even had the chance to get inside her. “I...I love you, Emma,” he gasped. “Let me show you how much.” 

Without wasting another second, she positioned him at her opening, then moved her hands to his ass, squeezing it encouragingly. He began to enter her at an achingly slow pace and when she looked up, she could see the cords of his neck standing out, his head thrown back, teeth clenched, and eyes closed tightly. 

“Don’t hold back, Babe,” she pleaded. “Just let go. You won’t...you won’t hurt me.” 

He pulled back until just his tip was still within her, then thrust his hips forward to enter her more deeply. Repeating this motion a few more times, he finally stilled balls deep and dropped his head to her chest. 

“Bloody hell, you feel amazing, Love! I could live the rest of my life right here!” 

“That...that might be a bit...inconvenient, but...I wouldn’t object!” she stammered. 

He gripped her shoulders from underneath and began to move, slowly at first, but picking up speed as the sensations started to overwhelm him. She bent her knees and drew her legs up alongside his body and the new angle added to the pleasure. 

With every snap of his hips, her breath caught, her hands roaming up and down his back and buttocks, her nails scratching against his skin, which heightened his arousal and drove him toward the edge faster than he wanted. 

“Emma...I can’t...I’m going to…” 

“Me...too!” Her knees tightened around him and her hips raised off the bed, her legs shaking with her impending release. 

He plunged into her once more and suddenly she was flying. The throbbing of her walls along his swollen cock was his undoing, and with another thrust, he joined her. Feeling his release washing through her, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him against her and letting their sweat mingle as their hearts beat erratically in their chests. 

“I love you,” she murmured, her lips finding their way to the hollow of his throat, then nuzzling into the juncture of his shoulder. 

He rolled them over to reverse their positions and wrapped her securely in his arms. “I love you, too.” 

As their breathing evened out and their bodies cooled, Killian reached down to find the blanket and pulled it over both of them. “Mmmm, can I just stay here all night?” she mumbled sleepily. 

“I think that’s a grand idea, Love.” 

She lifted her head to look into his face. “Do you mean it?” 

“I can think of nothing I want more than to hold you in my arms for the rest of the night, my love.” 

“You know I have to work tomorrow, don’t you? It’s the Christmas season so we’re swamped.” 

“I’ll wake you early so you can get to work on time.”

“Deal, but be warned - I’m not a morning person.” 

“I’ll be cautious.” 

They fell silent for several minutes while she enjoyed the soothing movement of his hands kneading the skin of her back. She was just starting to doze off when his voice rumbled against the top of her head. “Does it have to be just for tonight?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Will you...could you make a special delivery to me again tomorrow night?”

She rested her chin on his sternum and grinned up at him. “I think I could do that.” 

“I can pick you up, so you don’t have to drive all the way out here by yourself.” 

“That’s not necessary. I’m used to doing things by myself.” 

“But you don’t have to, Emma. You...we...aren’t alone anymore.” 

A smile lit up her face. “That’s true. We have each other now.”

“That we do, and you are always welcome here. I want you here - as often as possible.” 

“You might regret that offer.” 

“Never.” 

She sighed happily and laid her head back on his chest. “Thank you, Killian.” 

“For what, Love?” 

“For opening your heart to me and making me feel wanted, beautiful, special and loved.”

“You are all of those things, Sweetheart.” 

He could feel her smile against his skin. “And for giving me a place to belong,” she added. 

“You belong right here,” he said, patting the spot over his heart. “I want to thank you too, Emma, for taking a chance on me, by giving me your heart and blessing me with your love. I feel very lucky, and obviously less lonely, having you in my life. When I think of the hell I had to walk through, I wouldn’t trade a day of it, because it led me to you.” 

She raised her head again and her lips found his for a long, languid kiss. “I know what you mean, and I feel the same way, too; no longer lonely and very lucky to have found you,” she whispered afterwards. 

They decided it would be a good idea to clean up a bit before going to sleep, so he led her into the bathroom. When they returned to the bedroom, he pulled on flannel sleep pants, and offered her the matching shirt, which she tugged over her head. 

As he pulled open a dresser drawer to grab another, Emma put a hand on his arm to stop him. “It might be the middle of winter, but it’s a shame to cover up that sexy chest hair. I promise I’ll keep you warm,” she said with a sly grin.

He didn’t argue, knowing that he would give her anything her heart desired. They climbed back into bed and shared some sweet kisses, then Emma turned onto her left side and reached back to find his arm, wrapping it around herself and pulling it up between her breasts. He scooted closer and pressed himself against her back, sighing contentedly as he buried his nose in her hair. 

“I love you, Emma. I’ll see you in the morning,” he murmured.

She yawned before replying, “I love you, too, Killian. Goodnight.” 

As they drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, their hearts a perfect match, that night became the first of the rest of their lives together; a new beginning for both of them, never to be lonely again.  

*********

I hope you love the story, Saj! Happiest of birthdays to you!

Tagging: @xsajx @hookedmom @kymbersmith-90 @kmomof4 @lassluna @pirateherokillian @teamhook @stahlop @elizabeethan @whimsicallyenchantedrose @resident-of-storybrooke @therooksshiningknight @jennjenn615 @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @killianswannn @stories-enchanted @eleveneitherway @withheartfulloflove @kday426 @lyssapup27 @swanlovato @djlbg @kristi555 @laschatzi @xarandomdreamx @lkles08 @wyntereyez @bubblegum1425 @xhookswenchx @yasbio2015 @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @wefoundloveunderthelight @hollyethecurious @let-it-raines @jonesfandomfanatic @searchingwardrobes @dreamingdreamsalways @oncechicagolove @andiirivera @vvbooklady1256 @gingerchangeling @everything-person @klynn-stormz @qualitycoffeethings @vampcoffeegyrl23 @enchanted-swans @cassy1511 @ohmakemeahercules @donteattheappleshook @bluewildcatfanatic @the-darkdragonfly @demisexualemmaswan @lavenderbudd @grimmswan @spartanguard @flslp87 @ultraluckycatnd @sarahpaq08 @thisonesatellite @captainswan21 @zaharadessert @mariakov81 @snowbellewells @xouatxcs @kiwistreetswan @batana54 @nadine200179 @probalicious17 @courtorderedcake @julesep3026 @jackieorioncat @whatthehell102082 @xemmaloveskillianx @jarienn972 @sthonour @linda8084 @carpedzem @pirateprincesslena @daxx04 @winterbythesea @artistic-writer @cocohook38 @chrisilybrooke @pcrcabcth @captainswan4life85 @molly958 @kingofmyheart14 @badwolfreturns @itsfridaysomewhere @chamomileandmint @fallingforthecaptain @lovethelifeyoulive1106 @onceratheart18 @strangestarlighttree @omgmarvelous @justanother-unluckysoul @mrs-potatos-but-likes-tomatos @anothersworld @deckerstarblanche @purplehawkcaptain @therealstartraveller776 @superchocovian @k-leemac @citygirlscowboy @laughterandbooks​

[scribomaniac]

Something Wicca This Way Comes Ch 8

@andiirivera @blackwidownat2814 @gryphbear @meredeph @jonesfandomfanatic @forget-me-not-s @groovyfoxpeace @superchocovian @therealstartraveller776 @stahlop @kmomof4 @teamhook

Killian closed one eye and aimed the other at the small red circle on the dart board before him. He lined up his shot, pulled his arm back, then fired.

The dart hit just outside the bullseye.

“Tough luck there, mate,” Liam laughed from where he sat in the back corner of the bar as he reviewed his ledger book. 

Normally, reviewing the pub’s accounts would fall under the assistant manager’s job, but August had called in sick for the day. It was only fair, Killian had thought even when Liam had grumbled. The two of them had called in at the last minute multiple times due to demon activities. At least August had had the good enough timing to call in when nothing supernatural was happening. If he had pulled this last week, when Liam had been obsessed with the Firestarter, their house had been ransacked, and a demon that turned invisible tried to stab Liam in the back, then maybe Killian would’ve been a bit more peeved at the man’s absence. However, this week had been a total one-eighty from the last, so he hardly minded picking up the extra shift. 

Rolling his eyes, Killian walked up to the dart board and pulled the dart free. “It still hit the target, didn’t it?”

Liam hummed but his focus was back on his book. Or, at least, that’s what Killian thought. “Don’t you think it’s strange?” Liam asked.

“Not really,” Killian closed one eye again and took aim, “darts never really was my game.” He threw the dart again, hitting the exact same spot as before. 

“Not that,” Liam shook his head. “The fact that the only reason we were able to see that demon--Glass--was because someone had opened all the windows and turned on the air conditioning?”

Sighing, Killian placed his hands on his hips and replied, “I like to think of it more as serendipitous.” It’s true, the only reason Liam had seen the demon’s attack coming was because the house had been so cold, which apparently was Glass’s weakness, but who would have set him up like that? It had to be a coincidence. 

“And what about the flowers Will got?” Liam acted like he hadn’t heard Killian. He sat back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “And how does the Firestarter fit into all of this? We have to be missing something.”

“You’re overthinking this, mate.” Killian didn’t know what else to say. “Besides,” he offered, “You yourself said those flowers were just a prank.”

Liam hummed noncommittally. Had Killian thought it was strange that none of Will’s friends had owned up to the prank? Yes, but maybe they just felt they’d gone too far and regretted it. Killian turned back to his game, not wanting to indulge Liam’s obsession any more than he already had. 

Although Liam might have been correct about there being a demon after them, and although his crystals had been imperative in trapping Glass and questioning him--as much as they could question him, anyway, before he’d been engulfed in a pillar of hellfire--Liam had crossed a line when it came to his pursuit of evil. Emma had been caught in the crossfire and could’ve died. It had caused the two brothers to come as close to fighting as they ever had. Eventually Killian and Will succeeded in getting through to him and convinced him to apologize to the detective, which helped ease the tensions a bit in the house.

“Have you heard from Will today?”

Killian’s brows shot up, surprised to hear a normal question come out of Liam’s mouth. Looking at the clock on his phone, Killian said, “No, he was gone before I woke up this morning. Maybe he had an early class.”

Liam grunted, “I don’t think he does on Fridays. Don’t you remember him boasting about his three day weekends when he planned his classes for the semester?”

Frowning, Killian nodded, “Aye. Maybe he was meeting up with friends or wanted to get some extra studying in.” Even as he said it, Killian knew it wasn’t true. Liam loved sleeping in whenever he could. Nothing short of a demonic attack could get him out of bed before nine. “Maybe we should give him a call.”

“Aye,” Liam pulled out his phone and was about to call but was distracted by a knock to the front door.

Liam frowned, but got up to open the door. For a second Killian thought it might be Will, but then realized he’d have come through the back like they always did.

“Detective,” Liam greeted, genuine surprise in his tone. “What are you--I mean, how can I help you.”

“Is Killian here?” Emma’s voice carried past Liam all the way to Killian’s ears, making his back straighten.

Liam moved aside, “Right over there.”

Emma walked in, her hands shoved in her coat’s pockets and a small smile on her lips. “Hey,” she greeted.

“Hello Swan,” Killian smirked. “It’s a bit early for a drink, wouldn’t you say?”

Huffing out a laugh, Emma tilted her head down in an attempt to hide the widening of her smile. Killian’s chest burned with pride, knowing he had an effect on her. “No,” she said, looking up at him through her lashes, “actually I wanted to talk to you.” She hesitated, then looked back over her shoulder towards Liam.

Clearing his throat, Liam held up his phone and said, “I’ll just ahh--I’ll be in the back.”

Once his brother disappeared into his office, closing the door behind him, Killian took a step closer to Emma and brushed his hand against hers. “Well, Swan?” 

When her own fingers reached out and twined with his, Killian felt his lips pulling into a wide smile. After moistening her bottom lip with her tongue, Emma said, “I’m here to ask you on a date tonight. For dinner.”

Killian’s legs felt like jello. If he were a weaker man he might’ve stumbled from the shock of it all. Killian raised a brow, “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

Scrunching her nose, Emma rolled her eyes, “I should’ve known you’d be old fashioned.” She looked directly into his eyes and dazzled him with her smile. “You’ll probably want to wear your Navy uniform like some cheesy movie.”

“Not so old fashioned, Swan,” Killian placed a hand on her hip, curling a finger into one of her belt loops. “As for my uniform, I believe I burned it the day I was discharged.”

“Ah yes,” Emma placed her hand on his chest and focused her gaze on one of his buttons, “that dishonorable discharge. I forgot you were a bit of a bad boy.”

Grinning, Killian told her, “You have no idea.”

Stepping even closer, so that their noses were almost touching, Emma whispered, “I’d like to find out.”

“Killian,” Liam’s voice felt like someone had thrown a bucket of water on top of him. Emma quickly took a step back and schooled her face back into its usual frown. 

“I’ve got to get going,” Emma said, looking awkwardly between Killian and Liam. “I’ll pick you up tonight around seven?”

“On one exception,” he bit down on his lower lip, going out on a limb as he continued, “allow me to plan the evening.”

Emma’s green eyes honed in on his blue ones. There was a spark of mischief behind them as she said, “I know how to plan a date.”

“You know how to catch bad guys, Swan,” Killian raised a challenging brow. He didn’t know where all this playfulness was coming from, on her end or his, but he was enjoying it all immensely. “I know how to plan an evening out.”

“Fine,” she said, trying to smother a smile. Eyes flashing over to Liam again, she frowned slightly before saying, “I’ll see you then.”

Once Swan left the pub, Killian looked over and found his brother glaring at the door. “You still don’t trust her, do you?”

“I don’t,” Liam said bluntly, then noticed the look on his younger brother’s face and added quickly, “really know her. Do you?”

Killian shrugged, “Not as much as I’d like to.” He looked down at the floor to hide how hot his cheeks had become. After a long, deep breath, he asked, “Any luck?”

“No,” Liam shook his head, “it went to voicemail. I think we should head home, maybe scry for him.” He pursued his lips, “I just have a bad feeling.”

Killian nodded and pulled out his own phone, “I’ll try again on our way.” He pulled up Will’s contact, but before he could hit the call button, a premonition took him.

Will stood in the kitchen, his eyes swollen and unfocused. His chest rose and fell drastically, as if he’d been running. 

Someone wearing a dark hoodie appeared behind him, the gun in his hand glinting against the sunlight. The figure pulled the trigger, the blast from it was deafening. Will sucked in a sharp breath, then fell to the ground.

Blinking rapidly as he regained his sight, Killian didn’t wait for Liam to ask what he’d seen, “We need to get home--now!”

As they sped home, Liam driving well above the legal limit, Killian explained what he saw. It definitely wasn’t a demon in his vision. He didn’t understand it though. Why didn’t Will just orb away?  Did it have to do with the state of his eyes? Killian had never thought about the physical limits of Will’s powers before. He’d assumed his little brother could perform them blind, but thinking on it now, as his heart raced in his chest and sweat dripped down the back of his neck, he realized he’d never seen Will orb something to or from him without looking at where he was aiming.

Screeching the car to a halt on the curb in front of the house, the two brothers hauled ass into the manor. Just as they turned the corner into the kitchen, they saw the dark figure raise his weapon. “Liam!” Killian yelled as the gun went off, but his older brother already had his hands up, freezing the man and the propelling bullet in its place. 

“Bloody hell,” Killian swore, lunging forward and snagging the bullet out of the air. “Will,” he sighed, finding his brother exactly where he saw him in his vision. Will’s eyes were red and angry, and when Killian pulled him into a hug he realized his brother was trembling something fierce.

“It’s August,” Will said, although his words were a bit garbled from the shudders of adrenaline. 

“What?” Liam pulled the figure’s hoodie down and there he was, the man they’d called friend. The man they’d trusted with Liam’s bars, who’d offered them rides home, who’d joked and clowned around with them for months. 

“Tink!” Killian yelled once Will’s legs gave out and they both began to slide towards the floor. “We need some help!”

Tink soon arrived and with a pale face brought her healing hands to Will’s eyes. A golden light appeared and soon Will could see again. The three of them brought him over to the living room couch. Liam ran to find some blankets for the shock, and Tink whipped up some hot coco. Will held the mug in his hands, basking in the warmth but never once bringing it to his lips. He told them all what had happened. How he’d stayed late at the pub last night and offered to help August clean up. Then the psycho threw cooking oil into his eyes, knocked him out, brought him to the manor and tied him up in the basement. 

Killian knew there was more to the story, but he’d heard enough for now. Striding over to the still frozen man, he pulled his arm back and threw all his weight into a punch to August’s jaw. The action caused Liam’s freeze to wear off, but it didn’t matter, as August remained on the floor, unconscious. 

Liam called David, who immediately sent over a squad car to pick August up and cart him off to jail. When they were alone again, Killian’s suspicions about Will’s powers were confirmed. He’d never had to orb without seeing where he was going before, and when it came down to it, he discovered that he couldn’t. Liam had patted him on the shoulder, told him that was something they’d work on later and then told him to get some sleep.

Will slept for several hours, not even stirring when Killian, Tink, and Liam began to pick up the mess that had been made while Will had been trying to escape his attacker. 

After Killian and Liam lifted a bookcase back to its upright position and began collecting the fallen books and nicknacks, Liam shook his head, “I can’t believe this all happened because of some mortal.”

“Aye, it’s like Nolan said, I suppose. You never can tell.” There was a bit of silence as Liam took time to alphabetize his books and Killian just crammed them all onto shelves. 

“It’s almost seven,” Liam said, “have you had a chance to plan your date for tonight?”

Although Killian noticed that Liam steadfastly kept his gaze down at the books he was organizing, he pretended not to mind. Instead of wondering why his older brother was taking a sudden interest in someone he didn’t particularly like, Killian pretended his brother was just being curious. “Of course, I’ve had this date planned since the first moment I met Swan.”

“Well, ah,” Liam cleared his throat and finally began to stack his books, “just don’t be out late.” He jerked his chin over to Will’s form over on the couch, “I’d feel better if we were all together tonight.”

“Right,” Killian gritted out, barely holding back his tongue. He knew his brother was just concerned for him, especially right after Will’s attack, but he was a grown man who could take care of himself. “Well, I’d better get ready.”

Once Killian had showered, changed, and added a touch of cologne, it was ten till seven. Checking that he had his keys, phone, and wallet, he headed down the stairs and found Will standing in the bottom. His blanket was around his shoulders like a shawl and he held a decorative pillow tightly to his chest.

“How’re you feeling, mate?” Killian asked as he took the final step off the stairs and gave his brother a pat on the shoulder. “Want me to bring you up some tea?”

Will grimaced at the offer, and it reminded Killian that his younger brother was steadfastly American, even when it came to his beverage options. “Coco, maybe?” He offered instead. 

“Tink’s making me some,” Will gave him a half smile. “I’m just going up to bed to rest there.” Looking his brother up and down, then giving a tentative sniff, he asked, “You got a date?”

Killian laughed, “Aye, Swan asked me out.”

“About time!” Will’s smile was a full one this time. “Where are you going?”

“The Morris.” It was a restaurant Killian had only really heard about and never gone to, but the reviews were amazing and the food wasn’t overly priced like so many other restaurants in the city. It would be special enough for a first date, but not so intimidating or extravagant that either of them would feel uncomfortable by the ambiance or meal’s price tag. 

Will whistled, “Bring me back some of their buckwheat donuts, yeah?”

“Of course mate, now go on and get up to bed.” As he watched his younger brother ascend the stairs, he couldn’t help but add, “And don’t forget to eat something more than chocolate tonight!”

There was a knock at the door and Killian’s heart soared. Shouting out a quick, “Got it!” He quickly took the few steps over into the foyer and opened the door to find Emma on the other side. “Hello, Swan.”

Emma wasn’t dressed in anything fancy, and he hadn’t expected her to, but the simple black dress she wore beneath a black leather jacket inspired him to say, “You look beautiful.”

Grinning at him, it was her turn to look him over, “You don’t look too bad yourself, Killian.” Holding her arm out, her grin widened, “Where to, captain?”

Chuckling, Killian linked his arm through her own, “Just you wait.”

Emma drove, but Killian was in charge of navigation. It didn’t take them too long to arrive at the restaurant, less than a half hour, and when they arrived they were lucky enough to be seated right away. Once they were seated, Emma took off her jacket and hung it on the back of her seat. The sight of Emma’s bare arms made Killian’s mouth run dry. Before this, he wouldn’t have considered himself an arm man, but after seeing her toned and well defined muscles, he realized he most definitely was.

“So,” Emma looked up at him over her menu, “tell me about your day.”

Killian huffed out a laugh, “How much time do you have?” Emma raised a brow, challenging him to continue, so he did. Normally he would’ve changed the subject or glossed over what had happened, but with Emma, he felt that not only could she handle today’s craziness, but that she actually wanted to hear about it.

He told her about what happened, sans magic, of course. How Will had been sent those strange flowers the day their house had been broken into, how both he and Liam had been worried after not hearing from Will all morning, and then coming home to find him with August. Besides a pair of raised brows, Emma didn’t seem too perturbed by the story. “You must hear about these kinds of things every day.”

Emma shrugged and released a deep sigh, “It’s one thing to hear about it, another to live through it. Are you sure you don’t want to call off the date? We can reschedule if you’d rather be home with your brothers.”

The sincerity behind her words made him smile, “Will would never let me live it down if I took you up on that offer. Besides, he’s been asleep for most of the day. He won’t even notice I’m gone.” He would notice if Killian forgot to bring him back those sweets though.

“As long as you’re sure.” The waiter came to take their drink orders. When he left, Emma tilted her head and stared at him through narrowed eyes, “Why do I have a feeling that you and your brothers live very exciting lives.”

Snorting into his glass of water, Killian said, “Hardly. It only seems that way at times.”

“Right,” Emma took a small sip of her wine. “How long have you three lived together? I can’t imagine living with so many siblings to be easy.”

“It’s only been a couple of years, and” Killian shrugged, “it’s not so bad when you’re close.” Killian took a sip of his own wine, then confided, “Sure some things can get frustrating, but it’s never too bad.”

The waiter returned for their dinner orders. Emma ordered the king salmon and Killian ordered the oysters with kimchi mignonette. 

“You’re lucky,” Emma placed her elbows on the table so she could rest her chin in her palm. “I never got along with any of my foster siblings. We fought constantly.” She chuckled, “That’s probably why I’ve never had a roommate.” She pulled her lips back in a fake grimace, “We did always fight over stupid things, though, like clothes and what to watch on TV. It all seemed so important back then.”

“I know exactly what you mean. Just the other day Liam and Will were arguing over locking the front door. You’d think grown men would know better, but,” he gave an over exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Do you still keep in touch with any of your foster siblings?” He reached for a roll of bread.

“Not really,” Emma leaned back in her chair and pulled her hair back. “Once you age out of the system you’re on your own.” She shrugged, “Keeping in touch is pretty low on the list of priorities.

Killian winced, feeling as though he’d once again put his foot in his mouth. Emma smiled gently and reached across the table, covering his hand with her own. “Don’t look so scared. Really, I don’t mind talking about this stuff.”

Squeezing her hand with his, he returned her small smile with his own. Then, as if overcome with the need to dig deeper, he asked, “Do you mind if I ask a personal question?”

Brows furrowing, Emma said, “Shoot.”

“Do you remember anything about your birth parents?”

The waiter returned with the meals, forcing them to let go of each other. After warning them both that their plates were hot, he once again scurried off to his next table, leaving them alone.

Emma looked down at her fish and toyed with the edge of her plate, seemingly unaffected by its temperature. “No,” she said quietly. “I don’t remember anything about them.” 

She looked up at him, and Killian knew she was going to continue so he said, “You don’t have to, Swan, if you don’t want to.”

Smiling her crooked little half smile, she told him, “It’s okay. I’d like to.” Taking a calming breath, she continued, “I don’t remember anything, but one of my foster fathers told me I was found on the side of the road, wrapped in nothing more than a blanket.”

“Do you ever think about looking for them?”

Emma shook her head, “No. I don’t think I’d want to meet them, actually.” She picked up her knife and fork, “Okay, enough of my tale of woe,” she joked, “tell me more about that boat you mentioned before.”

So Killian did, he spoke about how, when he’d first gotten out of the Navy he’d pulled together all his savings to buy a wrecked sailboat. He’d been planning to fix it up and sail around the world. First he’d planned to sail along the Pacific Coast down and around South America. Then wherever the wind took him. Back to England, maybe, to revisit old sites from his childhood. 

“I almost had enough saved to fix the thing, too, but then,” Killian trailed off. The reason he hadn’t followed through with his dream was that his powers were activated and all of a sudden he had responsibilities. “Well,” he shook his head, “it worked out in the end. If I hadn’t stayed then Will and I wouldn’t be nearly as close.”

“You’re half brothers, right?” 

Killian nodded as he ate one of his oysters. After swallowing he said, “Aye, we’re only five years apart but the first time we met I was thirteen or so. Before that it was just Liam and me.”

Emma smiled, “You really look up to him, don’t you?”

“Liam?” Killian chuffed out a laugh, “Is it that obvious?”

“I think it’s sweet.” She speared a piece of fish with her fork. “Everyone should have someone in their lives like Liam. A protector.” She took a bite.

Killian hummed thoughtfully, “I wish Will had had him growing up, maybe they’d understand each other a bit more.” Instead of chafing at the elder’s protectiveness, Will would understand it--appreciate it, even. 

They continued their conversation, talking about everything and anything. They discussed minor things, like their favorite foods and movies, as well as the major, like their home lives and personal goals. It was surprisingly easy to talk to Emma, once Killian got out of his head. Emma was witty and kind, and as the night progressed she showed more and more of her smile. It was absolutely radiant. Killian could sit there for eternity if only she’d continue to smile like that at him.

Eventually, after they’d finished their dinner, shared a dessert, and Killian had gotten Will’s donuts to go, they made their way back to Emma’s car. They drove to Killian’s home in silence, their hands intertwined over the center console. Emma drove easily with one hand on the wheel, a soft smile on her lips as Killian’s thumb caressed her skin.

When they arrived back at the manor, Emma insisted on walking Killian all the way to the door, laughing, “What would your brothers think of me if I did anything less? That’s no way to end a date.”

Wrapping his arm around her shoulders for the few steps it’d take to make it to the front door, Killian pulled her close to press a kiss atop her head, “How chivalrous of you, Swan.”

They reached the door and Emma turned towards him, “I had a good time tonight, Killian.” Her eyes flickered down to his lips.

Raising a brow and moving his arm so his hand rested against the back of her neck, he asked, “Good enough to warrant a second?”

Emma smiled. “Maybe,” Her voice turned soft as she said, “depends on what happens next.”

Killian closed his eyes and leaned in. The moment his lips met hers, a shudder ran down his spine. Emma’s hands came up and grabbed at the fabric at his waist, pulling him closer. The hand that was cradling the back of her head tangled its fingers in her golden locks, pulling slightly and making Emma gasp.

Kissing Emma felt like coming home. Like he’d been at sea for months and months and was finally sent to land for extended leave. It was a sense of relief mixed with excitement. 

Emma’s tongue swiped across Killian’s bottom lip, making him drop Will’s box of donuts. Pushing Killian backwards until his back was to the wall, Emma’s hands, surprisingly hot, made their way beneath his shirt and she dragged her fingernails down his skin. 

Laughing slightly into their kiss, Killian pulled away just enough to say, “As much as I am enjoying this, Swan, what do you say we move it inside?”

Emma’s eyes, slightly clouded with lust, cleared up in an instant, almost making him regret he’d said anything. “Right, sorry,” Emma looked down and pulled her hands away before shoving them into her coat pockets. “I just, ahh,” she bit down on her bottom lip.

Before she could retreat even further, Killian ducked in to press a quick kiss to her cheek. “You need never apologize to me, Emma. Now,” he pulled her hands out of her coat with his own and tilted his head so he could look her in the eye, “would you like to come in?”

Smiling softly, Emma shook her head, “I should go.” Giving his hand a squeeze, she said, “Goodnight, Killian.”

Watching her walk back towards her car, Killian sighed, “Night, Swan.”

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

Hope you enjoyed! If you did, do a bitch a favor and hit that reblog button ;)

Next chapter things are gonna go DOWN. I plan on starting it tomorrow and we’ll see how far I get. 

If anyone is confused with the Jones family history please let me know! It’s clear in my head but we all know that doesn’t always translate on paper. As for ages though, Liam is 30, Killian is 28, and Will is 23. Emma is also 28 FYI. 

Pardon my kiss writing rust. It’s been a while since I’ve written anything romantic. I’m usually better at everyday love and affection than steamy scenes but I hope this will do. 

[donteattheappleshook]

Stone Hearts Chapter 13/13 - Epilogue

Here it is. It’s finally totally done. This is the first MC fic that I’ve completed and it took me a really long time but I wanted to say thank you to everyone who liked and reblogged and commented and flailed over this story. It might be cheesy to say but I could not have done it without all the support. You taking the time to tell me that you enjoyed this story kept me writing even when I didn’t want to.

So, after nearly 3 years (yeesh) here is the end of Stone Hearts. 

Summary:

Emma should have known. She should have known that they couldn’t just go to the underworld and not suffer any consequences. She should have known they’d bring something back with them.

Cannon Divergent after 5x21 Last Rites. No Hyde. No serum. No Evil Queen split. No prophecy. No season 6.

Read from the beginning on Ao3 or FFn because tumblr eats all my italics.

Rated E

Epilogue

“He’s going to forgive you, Swan,” Killian said, reaching for her hand where it was clutching the steering wheel, knuckles white.

“You don’t know that,” she said. “I sent him away. I'm his parent and I left him. You know how that feels.”

“Aye, I do. And so do you,” he answered, his thumb brushing back and forth over the back of her hand. “But you forgave your parents because they sent you away to protect you, to keep you safe - just as you did.” 

“But what if he doesn’t?” she asked, finally turning to look at him briefly before looking back at the road. They were nearly at the town line. After defeating the King, Emma, Killian, Belle and Tink had all found their way to Granny’s where all of the formerly cursed folk seemed to have ended up. 

There was confusion at first, chaos, anger and resentment over what cursed people had done to the uncursed. And there was regret, guilt and remorse over the actions that the cursed people’s bodies had taken without their consent. Storybrooke had been in a state of panicked relief that, while it would take a while for the wounds to truly disappear, her parents had been able to calm it slightly with another of their excellent hero speeches - for the time being.

Once that had settled, there was the matter of finding everyone, making sure each townsperson was accounted for and - Emma hated to think it even now - alive. The census was still in progress. People had been found all over - the mines, the forest - may with no sense of where they were when they woke up, or how to return home. They were still finding people now, two days later.

That was why Emma had waited until now to go get Henry. At least that was what she was telling herself. Her first thought after finding her parents and her friends and seeing that they were safe was that she needed to get him. But one look around and the state of the town had her believing this was not a good place for him to return to - not like this. 

She wanted to wait until the waters had calmed before bringing him home. The town would be forever changed but she didn’t want Henry to fall prey to the madness and the threats and the fear that had surrounded them for the first thirty-six hours after the curse broke. It wasn’t safe. 

But now she couldn’t wait any longer, didn’t want to wait any longer. She missed him. It had only been four days but not having him with her, not being in contact, not knowing if he was safe. She hated it. She wanted her son back. But she was so so afraid. 

The way he had looked at her when she tricked him into crossing the barrier - the anger and the hurt and the betrayal had felt like - well it felt like having her heart ripped out of her chest. What if he hated her? What if he never forgave her for this? Henry had always wanted to be the hero, had always wanted to do right, and she’d denied him that. 

“Emma, I can feel your heart racing,” Killian said, giving her hand a little squeeze. That was a strange side effect to the heart split, one she was still getting used to. It wasn’t unpleasant, per say, but it was new and unlike anything she’d ever experienced. They couldn’t feel everything the other felt, that would have been a whole other story. But, whenever one felt something acute, something overwhelming and intense, the other had a small sense of it, an echo in their own chest. 

They hadn’t had much experience with it yet, seeing as both had been living in a state of shared, high alertness for days now. But when Killian first saw one of the men he had gravely wounded, a deep welt still in the man’s shoulder, she had felt her heart flutter in her chest, like a feeling that something was wrong, an intuition. She hadn’t seen the man until she turned to find Killian, frozen in place as he stared at him, tense and breathing quickly. 

She took a deep breath. Tried to calm her pounding heart. 

“He will forgive you. I know a boy’s love for his mother. And I know Henry’s love for you. He may be angry,” he said and at least he was being honest. “But he’ll forgive you. In time.” 

She nodded, a little appeased by his assurance. He smiled at her softly and brought her knuckles to his lips, brushing a kiss against them. They were nearly at the line. They’d managed to text Ruby and had learned that she and Henry had been holed up at a motel for the last two days. Both of them were safe. They had arranged to meet them here at five, the King’s spell on the town line having disappeared along with his curse. 

Regina was in the car behind them. Snow and David following closely too. At first she’d worried about overwhelming him but she knew that Henry would want to see them all, that he would need to be assured that they were safe. And maybe a small part of her hoped that if he was wrapped up in the happiness of the reunion he wouldn’t remember to be as angry with her.

“Are you ready?” Killian asked as she put the bug in park. She wasn’t. She definitely wasn’t but she needed to see him and she needed to hold him in her arms and make sure he was really alright. 

She could see him, standing right at the edge with Ruby, looking eagerly at the cars that were approaching. He looked a little less tired, a little less hungry than he had the last time she’d seen him. 

Emma nodded. She was ready.

She’d hardly made it out of the car before she was bowled over by the force of a fourteen year old crashing into her. She took only a minute to be surprised, to be caught off guard before she wrapped him in a bone-crushing hug. 

“I knew you’d do it,” she heard him say from where his face was buried somewhere in her shoulder. Emma let out as small sob as she held him even closer, even tighter, as though that were possible. When she was pretty sure that she’d managed to squeeze absolutely every last bit of air from his lungs, she pulled back, took his face in her hands and bent down a little so they were at eye-level. She tried not to think about the fact that they wouldn’t be at eye level much longer at the rate he was growing. 

“I thought you’d hate me,” she admitted. Henry gave her an eyebrow raise that was so reminiscent of Killian it was almost eerie. 

“I don’t hate you. You’re my mom. I was really really mad at you.” Emma swallowed but let him continue. “But I was able to calm down after a bit and Ruby made me understand why you did it. It was like when I was born. You wanted to keep me safe.” Emma nodded, tears starting to blur her vision. “But mom, you can’t keep protecting me forever. Eventually you have to let me start fighting the battles with you.”

“No more battles -” she tried but he shook his head. 

“This is Storybrooke, Mom. There’s always a chance of something happening. We can’t make the mistake of pretending that’s not the truth. Not again.” 

Emma brushed some of his hair back, looked at him and really saw him - saw how much their latest tragedy had changed him, aged him, but also made him stronger. Even now he spoke to her with confidence way beyond his years. He was growing up. She had to accept it. 

“When did you get so wise?” she asked. 

“I’ve always been wise,” he scoffed and Emma laughed. “So will you let me help next time?”

“How about when you’re thirty?” Emma suggested with a small curl to her lip. 

“Mom.” 

“Fine. Twenty-eight. That’s the first time I fought a monster. Sounds fair.”

“Mom!”

Emma smiled at him. “Why don’t we deal with that when it happens,” she suggested, a peace offering. “For now, I’m just so happy you’re alright and you’re safe. I don’t want to think about the next time I could nearly lose you. Is that okay?”

She could tell by his expression that he wasn’t going to give this up, that they’d have this discussion again. But for now, he nodded and hugged her again.

“From what I saw of that slingshot, the boy does pretty well for himself against monsters already,” she heard Killian say behind her. Henry’s head instantly shot up, looking over her shoulder.

“Killian!” he cried before detangling himself from her and rushing at the man with as much force as he’d rushed her if Killian’s grunt at the impact was any indication. “You’re okay!” 

Emma wasn’t sure if the swell in her chest was because of her or Killian. It was probably both, but she watched as Killian put his hand on the back of Henry’s head and wrapped his hooked arm around him, a small awed smile on his face, like he still couldn’t quite believe that Henry cared for him as much as he did for Henry. She knew how much it affected him this time, she quite literally felt it tug at her heartstrings. 

“Aye, I’m alright,” he promised. 

“I never got to say thank you for saving me,” Henry said, pulling back. “In the mines.” 

Killian took hold of the side of his face, met his gaze. “Always, Henry,” he told her son. “I’d lay down my life for you.” Emma knew it was true, and she knew Henry did too. Her son clapped Killian on the shoulder in a very grown up sort of way and she saw Killian smile, she felt her own smile pulling at her lips. 

“Henry?”

“Mom!” he shouted, rushing past Killian to Regina who was getting out of her car. She received an equally enthusiastic tackle. 

Emma turned then to find Ruby. She closed the distance between them in a few strides, wrapping her arms around her friend’s neck and pulling her close. “Thank you,” she said as Ruby’s hands found her back. “Thank you for everything. I couldn’t have let him go if I didn’t know that you would keep him safe. Thank you for protecting him.” 

“Of course,” Ruby said, pulling back to look at her. “We’re family. We’re all family now.” She turned then to Killian who had joined them. “Glad to have you back, Captain,” she said with one of her cheeky smiles. “That pretty face isn’t nearly as fun without the swagger to go along with it."

Killian laughed. “I missed you too, Ruby. Thank you for everything. For helping Emma, for taking care of Henry…” 

“We should be thanking you guys for breaking the curse,” she said, looking between the two of them. 

“Yeah,” Henry piped up from beside David's truck. “How did you guys break the curse anyway?” 

Emma and Killian looked at each other, both of them going a little red as they smiled at one another. Killian scratched behind his ear. 

“True love’s kiss,” Emma told them. 

“But how?” David asked, with a surprised frown. “We tried that with Snow and I. The curse was too strong. Their memories were buried too deep to let them remember their feelings.” 

“Yeah and you hated Killian when he was cursed,” Henry added. “No offence,” he added for Killian’s sake. 

“None taken. But, it would seem that Emma cannot resist my charms regardless of my altered persona. Cursed or not, I am still startlingly handsome.” He had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face and Emma raised a brow at him. 

“Yeah, keep going,” she said. “See how far those charms get you.” 

Killian laughed. “And I, even in my cursed state, fell in love with her. It would seem it takes more than a lack of memories, feelings, and a heart encased in stone to sway the hold you have on me, Love.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, placed a kiss to her temple. Okay, he was nearly forgiven.

“Oh, you have to tell us that story,” Ruby said, looking way too intrigued while Mary Margaret put both her hands to her heart and sighed a little 'oh'. 

“Yeah! And I want to hear how you defeated the King!” Henry insisted. 

“Perhaps,” Regina interjected. “We should do this somewhere other than the middle of the road.” 

"You're right,” Emma said, slipping her arm around Killian’s waist, smiling at her son. “Let’s go home.” 

***

“So he just turned into dust?” Henry demanded, half standing in his seat at the table. They’d all made their way back to her and Killian’s house where Mary Margaret and David had whipped up a meal that would have impressed even Granny with the few resources that were left in the pantry. Emma wondered how long it would be before the stores were open again and they could get real food. 

“Yup,” Emma said before gesturing at him with her fork. “Eat your dinner.” 

Henry did as he was told, sitting down and shoveling a forkful into his mouth. “And Belle put my grandpa in Pandora’s box?” he asked around said mouthful. 

“Yeah. She was pretty great,” Emma said. “So was Tink.”She could feel Killian’s hand tighten on her knee at the mention of Gold and she wondered how much he remembered from being under the Dark One’s control. 

“Where are they now?” Ruby asked, her concern for her friend evident.

“On the Jolly Roger,” Killian answered for her. “Belle had made herself quite at home before the King arrived. She, uh,” he scratched behind his ear. “She didn’t want to return to her home with the Dark One, so I offered my ship again. Tink is with her - to ensure she’s not alone and that the child isn’t born on the Jolly.” Emma smirked at the way he cringed at the idea. 

“I should to go see her,” Ruby said. “I thought we’d lost her in the first wave.” Ruby stood setting down her napkin and thanking them for the meal. “I’m going to head to the docks,” she told them. Emma would have offered that she stay but she knew that Ruby was anxious to see Belle, to make sure she was alright in the same way that Emma had been anxious to see her and Henry. 

“I suppose I should get going too,” Regina noted when everyone had said their goodbyes to Ruby. She hesitated. “Henry, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” her face held a sadness that Emma saw reflected in her son’s and it drove her to say what she said next. 

“You should stay.” Several pairs of surprised eyes turned to her then. 

What? She wanted to say. She and Regina weren’t enemies anymore - hell they were even friends at this point, even if their last interaction before the curse had been tense. But she supposed their surprise was right - they were friends, but they weren’t the kind of friends who had sleepovers. But Emma didn’t want Henry to be forced to choose between his mothers - not tonight when he’d only just gotten them back. 

She saw her parents looking unsure as well so she added, “You should all stay. None of us should have to be apart tonight. There’s plenty of room.” She felt Killian take her hand under the table, brush his thumb over her knuckles again and she knew that he understood that she didn’t want to be separated from her son or her parents either. 

“I think that’s a great idea,” Snow said and Emma heard the shaky tearfulness of her voice. The plans were made, bedrooms decided on, and after, Henry practically begged that they all sit and watch a movie with Emma’s signature popcorn with milk duds.

“Aye,” Killian had said when Henry suggested it, his face cringing at the thought of the snack even more than Regina’s had and making Emma laugh. “I can’t think of anything more wonderfully normal.” 

It was normal, almost boring really. They watched The Princess Bride and laughed at all the right parts and Killian squeezed her hand at all the right bits, and it felt so wonderfully, perfectly normal. She’d missed normal. She’d missed boring - maybe not boring but rather quiet. And she’d missed having it with her family, with the people she loved. She felt Killian’s hand tighten in hers again and realised that a tear had slid down her cheek. 

“You alright, Love?” he whispered.

She nodded. “Just happy.” 

Killian smiled at her, dropped her hand to cup her cheek and kissed her deeply. 

“Ew,” she heard the sound of a disgusted fourteen-year-old. “And on that note,” he said. “I’m going to bed.” Emma pulled back, laughing, everyone else joining in - even Henry eventually. 

The movie had just wrapped up. It wasn’t that late but everyone was so tired all the time now, every day was so heavy and so emotional - and would probably be for a while to come. So nobody protested, everyone slowly milling out of the living room slowly and heading off in their respective directions. 

Emma hugged her mom and dad one more time and she was pretty sure that they were both trying to squeeze the air out of her lungs the same way that she had with Henry. She let them, hugged them back just as tight. She’d missed them. 

“We’ll be right down the hall if you need us,” David said and Emma bit back her smile. She wasn’t a little girl and sometimes her dad forgot that but it was kind of sweet really. Speaking of which, Emma needed to go say goodnight to Henry. She peeked her head into his room just as Regina was finishing saying goodnight. She kissed his forehead and found herself repeating the same words her father had. 

Finally, she made her way to her bedroom where Killian was already sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for her. 

“Quite the full house we have tonight,” he said with a small, tired smile. 

She returned it. “Isn’t it great?” 

He nodded and Emma began getting ready for bed, stripping off her shirt and dreaming of her comfy PJs. She’d been wearing the same shirt and jeans for nearly two days. They hadn’t had a chance to go home and change, hadn’t had a moment’s rest since the King was defeated. There had been too much to do, too much chaos to wrangle. Last night she and Killian had spent the night at Granny’s, still helping and taking turns sleeping in the vinyl booths when they could. She was still sore now. 

She felt the tug at her heart, the one she’d only just discovered, hadn’t had a chance to get used to yet. Her head snapped up, worried that something was wrong, something that had sent Killian’s heart racing. She whirled around to find him unharmed, undistressed, but watching her, his eyes roving over her bare skin, eyes slightly hooded, cheeks slightly flushed.

Oh. 

He stood slowly, crossed the short distance between them and traced his fingers from the top of her shoulder down to her elbow where the shirt was still hooked. Emma shivered, as he pulled it free. It had been so long since she’d felt his hand on her - his hand, not Hooks but Killian’s, slow and purposeful and intent as it slid to her waist, following the curve around her back and down to the waist of her jeans. Her skin was on fire, goosebumps everywhere. He stepped closer, invading her space in the best way until she could feel his breath on her face and the heat from his body.

“I missed you,” he whispered, the words spoken against her lips. Emma couldn’t really explain what happened next. Maybe it was the fact of having him so close after so long, of knowing he’d missed her just as much as she’d missed him, or all the stress of the last few days, all the lost and the reunions and the heartbreak and the love. She leaned in, moving past his lips, burrowing her face in his neck and wrapping her arms around his back, holding as tightly to her as she could. 

She felt his surprise for a moment, his concerned ‘Swan?’ spoken into her ear. She was sure he could feel the wetness of her tears against the crook of his shoulder. His hand that had been tracing patterns on her lower back paused. 

“Just a minute,” she said, squeezing her arms tighter, nuzzling deeper and breathing him in. “Just a minute.” 

She felt him relax, his hand on her back sliding up to her shoulder, his thumb brushing the nape of her neck as he wrapped his hooked arm around her waist and pulled her in closer, his face turning into her hair. She just needed to hold him. Just for a minute. After all this time. 

Of course she wanted him, needed him, missed him. But she needed this more, needed this first. And so she held onto him and he let her for as long as she needed, craning his neck occasionally to press his lips to her temple, to her cheek, wherever he could reach and every kiss was another reminder. He’s here. Every soothing word and promise he breathed into her ear made her believe it more, trust that it was real and that she wouldn’t wake up from some amazing dream. He was here. She’d found him. He’d found her. 

His lips found her neck and she knew it was meant to be sweet, another soft reassurance, a comfort, but her body reacted immediately. Muscle memory kicking in and reminding her that she had Killian here, with her, finally, to hold and to touch and to kiss as she pleased. She pressed her lips to the spot where his neck met his shoulder, where her face was already, and began trailing them up the column of his throat to below his ear. 

She felt his muscles tense and his breathing hitch, and he turned his face to hers when she reached his jaw, capturing her mouth with his in a desperate, open mouthed kiss, his tongue delving deep, his hand sliding to the back of her neck to pull her closer, to open her up under him while his hooked arm pulled her closer, fusing them together. 

He groaned into her mouth and Emma felt it like a shock to her core. Maybe it would have been nice for their reunion to be slow, for them to take their time finding each other again. And maybe there would be time for that later. But right now, she needed him and she could feel how much he needed her. She rolled her hips against him and he gasped into her mouth before claiming it again with lips and teeth and tongue. 

She reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head so that she could look at him, run her hands over the warm skin and the soft hair beneath it. He pulled back reluctantly to allow her to lift the shirt off, only to focus his attention on her neck once he was free. His lips trailed fire, licking and biting and sucking his way to her throat, down her chest. 

“I missed you,” he whispered between kisses. “Gods, I missed you.” 

She reached behind herself frantically to discard her bra, throwing it somewhere on the floor just before his hand found one breast, teasing it with the pad of his thumb over it’s peak as he took the other into his mouth, hot and wet and God, she’d missed him too. 

“Killian,” she begged, trying her best to keep her voice down, to be conscious of the guests that could overhear, but it was difficult as he flicked his tongue over her nipple while he pulled and rolled the other. She was on fire, already so close to the edge and she just needed him now, needed him to stop teasing and fuck her. Fuck her so that they could erase the past few months, fuck her to prove that he was here and solid and hot and hers. There would be time to make love later. Right now she needed him hard and she needed him desperate.

“Killian,” she insisted again when he didn’t let up, this time reaching for his belt and pulling him with her, backing up until her knees hit the bed and she fell back against it. He was on her in a second, arm wrapping around her back so that he could lift her, toss her further up towards the middle. She saw it in his eyes, the desperation and the need that was reflected in her own. 

She reached for her own belt, undoing it and the fly of her jeans and starting to slide them down her legs, hooking her underwear with them. Killian followed her lead, reaching for his pants and hastily shedding them, his breathing ragged as he alternated between watching her undress and undressing himself. 

Finally he kicked his jeans off, reaching out to help her slide her own over her feet. He threw them out of the way, looking at her with hooded eyes, kneeling at the end of the bed between her legs as he caught one ankle in his hand. He placed it on his shoulder gently before pressing a soft kiss to the inside of her ankle, his lips trailing slowly down her calf, his eyes not leaving hers. 

Fuck. Fuck! She wanted him now, wanted to drag him up to her by his hair and grab hold of his cock and slide him inside of her. But it felt so damn good what he was doing to her. He looked so fucking hot looming over her, naked, cock hard and bobbing against his stomach as his teeth nipped at the skin on her inner thigh, just above her knee, his hand sliding slowly down to where she was wet and waiting for him. 

She writhed on the bed, desperate for him to just touch her already. His fingers toyed delicately at the spot where her leg met her hip, at the delicate skin there, so close to where she wanted them and she let out a frustrated cry. She was two seconds away from using her foot on his ankle to kick him off and do the job herself when he dove in, hand and hook wrapping around her thighs and spreading her open as his lips latched onto her clit. 

Jesus fucking christ! She nearly came right then and there as he took the bud into his mouth and sucked, slow, deep pulls that made her see stars and grind her hips against his face. He didn’t let up, sucking harder and harder and faster until she was racing towards the edge of that cliff so quickly she didn’t think there was any way she could stop. 

It wasn’t until he pushed two fingers inside of her that she came to her senses. She grabbed at his hair, pulling him back and trying to wiggle away from him before he could drive her over the edge. He looked up from between her thighs, met her eyes, his pupils blown and his hair falling over his forehead into them, cheeks flushed, lips damp and confusion maring his brow. 

“Inside,” she panted, her words as incoherent as her thoughts. “I want you inside me,” she said, watching as his eyes darkened. “I want to come around you. Together.” 

He practically growled as he crawled his way back up her body, steadying himself on his elbow before taking himself in hand and thrusting into her tight heat with no preamble. Emma cried out, back arching off the mattress at the intrusion. Yes. That was what she wanted. That was what she needed. 

His hand found her thigh, angling her as he pushed into her relentlessly, hard and fast and punishing as his lips found her neck again, his grunts and pants echoing in her ear. She bit her lip against the litany of cries and moans and curses and sobs that were trying to escape her. The whole bed shook under the force of his thrusts and Emma dug her nails into his back, desperate for something to grab on to. He’s here. He’s real and solid under your hands and inside of you. Flesh and blood and human and yours. 

“I never,” he gasped into her ear. “Fuck. I never want to forget you again,” he groaned and she knew that he needed this the same way she did. She felt like he was trying to imprint her under his skin so that they could never be separated again. He cried out as her nails dragged down his back, her hips canting up to meet his. “Yes,” he practically moaned against her skin. “Mark, me, Swan. Don’t let me forget.” 

She was close, so, so close but she needed him there with her, needed him to follow her over the edge. She held herself off with as much strength as she could, sliding her hands down his back to grab at his ass, to pull him closer, deeper, her hips matching his every thrust. 

“Please, Kilian,” she begged him, knowing she couldn’t hold out much longer. Her legs were shaking, the first pinpricks licking at her spine. He groaned, sliding his mouth over hers, his tongue desperately seeking her own, tangling together as he kept up his brutal pace. 

She could taste herself on him, could feel his groan reverberating through her chest and her core, heard his his mumbled ‘I love you’ against her lips and then she was there, her whole body tensing, wrapping herself around him, nails and heels and teeth digging into his flesh as she shook with the force of her climax. She whimpered, mouth open and brow screwing up, overwhelmed by the feeling, overpowered by it. She felt him finish with her, the heat of his release spilling inside her spurring on her own. 

They were still for a moment as Emma’s muscles slowly started to relax, until she could loosen the death grip she had on him. He wasn’t fairing much better, his whole body trembling over hers, his arm just barely keeping his full weight off of her. 

“Fuck,” she breathed out when she finally had control of her body again. He huffed out a laugh but it was weak, exhausted. He raised his head from her breast, hand cupping her face as he kissed her again, slowly, deeply, breathlessly. 

“I missed you.” She was the one to say it this time as he rested his forehead against hers, noses pressed to cheeks, lips barely a breath apart. 

“I gathered that,” he said, a smirk in his voice and if she’d had more energy she would have rolled her eyes, maybe smacked him for his cheek. But she didn’t. 

He rolled them over so that he lay on his back and curled her into his chest, her fingers drawing patterns through the hair beneath her hand. They found the ink there, the tattoo over his heart that marked their commitment and she leaned over to press her lips to it, then pulled back to trace it carefully. 

“I can feel you thinking,” he said after a moment. “You honestly shouldn’t be able to think at all after that. A man might take offence,” he teased and Emma smiled against his chest. God she’d missed him. His voice and his laugh and his teasing and all of the life in him that made him the man she loved. “What is it?” he asked, softer this time.

“I guess I’m just a bit bummed. With everything that happened… we’re probably going to have to delay the wedding. I don’t think the people of Storybrooke could handle that right now, not after everything that happened. A big, fancy party might look bad.” 

He hummed. “I don’t relish the idea of not being married to you for a second longer if I’m honest. But I understand what you mean.” 

“Maybe we should elope,” she said, head popping up to look at him. He smiled fondly, fingers tracing along her spine. She could tell he thought she was joking. “I’m serious,” she told him and he cocked his head to look at her. “Why don’t we just do it? Get married. Right now.”

“What, tonight?” he said in disbelief, brows shooting up to his hairline. 

“Why not? The only people I want there are in this house and on your ship. I don’t need a big wedding. I just want to be married to you. And I don’t want to wait. I want to start being with you forever right now.” 

He smiled at her again, a bright thing that lit up his whole face. She was serious. She wanted this. Right now. They’d fallen in love so many times now, had overcome so many odds, found each other again and again. She loved him, completely and totally and she didn’t want to wait another day to tell the whole world. And she didn’t have to. Her whole world was under this roof. Him, Henry, her parents. Why should they wait?

“I dare say I like the idea of being allowed to call you my wife tonight,” he said. She was taking that as a yes. She sat up, nearly laughing at his slightly put-out expression. “Where are you going?” he demanded. 

“Get dressed,” she told him. “Head down to the ship and wake Belle and Tink. Ruby’s probably there too. I’ll wake the others and meet you there in an hour,” she explained, throwing clothes on as he watched her from the bed, sliding his jeans over his legs. 

“Can fairies perform wedding ceremonies?” she asked. “Is that a thing? They feel all mystical and stuff and like they should be allowed to. Can you ask Tink? Oh god this will be hard to sell to my mom. Maybe she’ll think it’s romantic though -” She was fully dressed now, hurrying to the door, still rambling when he caught her elbow with his hook. “What?”

He pulled her back to him and she followed skeptically but not unwillingly. “We’re getting married tonight,” he told her and she felt the weight of his words, but not in a bad way. They felt like a wave washing over her, warming her, enveloping her. They were getting married tonight. “Let’s take a moment to enjoy that, shall we?” he teased. 

She bit her lip, realising she’d gone off the rails there for a moment. She watched the amused, affectionate smile cross his face and felt her own pulling at her lips, blissfully, perfectly happy. He took her face in hand, pulled her in and she rose on her tiptoes to meet his lips. His kiss was soft, gentle and excited, his mouth turning up at the corners against hers. 

“Go,” he said when they pulled apart. “I’ll meet you aboard in an hour. Do you -” he started, hesitated and Emma was fully expecting him to scratch his ear. “Do you mind if I wake Henry? I’d like to ask him to be my best man.” 

She smiled at him again. Kissed him again. “I think he’d love that,” she said and the small hint of relief on his face warmed her heart. “I’ll go wake my parents… Maybe ask Henry to wake Regina when you’re done - so she doesn’t curse us.” 

He sighed, eyes rolling skyward in exasperation. “Too soon, Love. Too soon.”

She giggled, running off to get ready. 

Her parents were surprisingly easy to win over, understanding that sometimes you just couldn’t wait for love - Snow hinted not so subtly that they could have a big party later, when everything had calmed down. 

David immediately demanded to know if Killian owned a suit - something Emma was pretty sure he didn’t - and then insisted on rushing home to grab one for him to borrow. ‘Nobody is marrying my daughter in a leather jacket’ he’d muttered as he rushed off. Emma and Snow both bit back their laughter. 

“We need to find you a dress!” Snow cried. “And something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue,” she continued, counting them off on her fingers.

“Mom, really, it’s not that kind of thing. We’ll be fine.” 

“Emma,” she said, taking her daughter’s shoulders. “Please let me do this. As your mother. I… need to.” 

Emma nodded, agreeing but reminding her that she only had an hour. Snow was quick, finding a pair of blue heels buried in the back of Emma’s closet - one’s Snow had bought her and that Emma had never worn… that had been a slightly awkward few minutes as Snow remarked that they looked brand new. 

“Here,” her mom said, slipping her ring off her finger and handing it over. “This is borrowed and old.” Emma stared at the green gem in front of her.

“Mom, I can’t take your ring,” she insisted. 

“You’re not. You’re borrowing it,” she smiled. “This was your grandmother’s. True love follows this ring wherever it goes, Emma. She’d want you to have it, so would your father, and so do I.” Snow put the ring in her palm, closing her fingers over it and Emma knew there was no point in protesting. She slipped it onto her right hand. 

“Alright. Now we just need something new… and a dress!” She looked around the house a little frantically, casting a glance at her watch. 

“How about two birds with one stone,” Regina said, coming down the stairs, dressed, but looking extremely groggy. She headed straight for the coffee machine and poured herself a massive cup. Henry had already left for the Jolly with Killian, thrilled with his new role as best man. “It’s a pretty simple spell,” Regina said, taking a long sip. “I just need another dress that belongs to you and then the spell will make it new - however you want it.” 

“I know the perfect one!” Snow cried running up to Emma’s room. 

“Thanks,” Emma said. Sometimes this newfound friendship between her and Regina still surprised her, still felt unsteady. And, as far as she knew, Regina still hated her for getting Killian back when Robin was gone forever. This felt like a gesture - a peace offering and a step in the right direction. 

“Just make sure that pirate doesn’t teach my son how to steal boats,” she quipped and Emma smiled, wondering if she should tell her that Henry had already discovered a knack for stealing cars. 

Snow came down the stairs then, dress in hand, and Emma smiled, her heart warming when she recognized the pink piece she’d worn on her first date with Killian. “It’s perfect, Mom,” she said and Snow beamed. 

Regina set down her mug and walked over to the dress, took it and laid it out on the table. “Okay,” she said. “Just put your hand on it and picture what you want - it doesn’t have to be specific, just an idea of the general style.” Emma wanted to comment on the fact that magic could apparently serve as a personal stylist but she didn’t. 

She did as she was told, thinking of how she wanted to look when she married Killian. Regina waved her hand and the dress transformed from pink pattern to white lace and chiffon. Emma looked down at it. It was… perfect. 

“It’s beautiful, Emma,” Snow said wistfully. 

“It is,” Emma said. “Thank you,” she said to Regina. “Thank you both.” Snow wrapped Emma in her arms and Regina walked away, acting more annoyed by the display than she probably was. 

“I’m so happy for you,” he mom whispered and Emma had to fight back tears. She never dreamed she’d have her mother at her wedding. Or her father, or a son, or even a man she loved enough to spend the rest of her life with. How much her life had changed in the few years since she’d given a ten year old a ride home. How lucky she was that she’d let him climb into her front seat. She’d thought she was bringing him home - but he’d been the one bringing her home.

Ah, she thought, pulling away and wiping at her eyes. She needed to stop thinking like that or she was going to walk down the aisle with mascara streaked down her cheeks. 

“We ready to go?” Regina asked once Emma was dressed and had agreed to let her mom touch up her makeup and hair. ‘Okay but quickly!’ she’d said. Emma nodded but when Regina moved to whisk them away, she stopped her. 

“Let me,” Emma said with a smile. “I’ve gotten pretty good at it.” 

They appeared on the docks near the Jolly Roger. Belle, her father, and Ruby already waiting for her next to the gangplank. 

“Oh, Sweetheart, you look beautiful,” David said and Emma thought for a moment he might cry. “Do I get to walk you down the aisle?” he asked a little hesitantly. 

“Of course. You both do,” she said to her parents. 

“I’m gonna go find Henry,” Regina said, walking off in disgust.

“Belle and I have dubbed ourselves your bridesmaids,” Ruby told her. “We figure it’s only fair since we’ve both saved your life,” she smirked. “Tink would have too but she’s performing the ceremony.”

“Sounds fair,” Emma agreed. “Just make sure she actually makes it down the aisle,” Emma said, gesturing at Belle. 

“I’m not an invalid,” Belle huffed, sitting with her hand on her stomach. Had it grown? Could it do that in two days? It didn’t look like it had much room left to spare. Emma brought her hand to her own stomach for a moment but quickly snapped it back to her side when she remembered her parents were with her. She did not want to have another shotgun wedding conversation. 

“Here,” Belle said, handing her a little bouquet of flowers. “Tink picked them to brighten up the place. I figured you should have them.”

“Tinkerbelle picked them?” Emma asked, with a disbelieving eyebrow raise. 

Belle shrugged. “She’s a softie at heart once you get to know her.”

“You ready?” Ruby asked and Emma took a moment, breathed in, breathed out. She was getting married. This was happening. She was marrying Killian Jones on the deck of the Jolly Roger. She was marrying her true love in front of her family and her friends. All she could think about right now was him standing there, out of sight, waiting for her, waiting to promise her the rest of his life. 

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m ready.” 

She looped each of her arms through one of her parents and let Ruby help a waddling Belle around to the bow of the ship ahead of her. She took another deep breath and nodded to her parents who guided her after them, both whispering how proud they were, how happy they were. 

When they rounded the side of the helm Emma saw Killian, Henry and Tink waiting for her at the prow. When Henry saw her he dashed off to somewhere she couldn’t see and she frowned, wondering where he’d gone, before she heard music swelling around her. She recognized it from the first note. It was her song. The song. The one from the playlist. The one they'd danced to in the kitchen. 

She saw Killian’s face when he looked up, when he spotted her and if there weren’t already tears in her eyes there sure as hell were now. He looked perfect. In a black suit and shirt with a few buttons undone. He was smiling, a little nervous, a little excited but so absolutely, completely in love that she could feel it radiating off of him even from this far away. She felt the tug at her heart when he first saw her, when his mouth dropped open. 

She reached him and it was a moment before she could touch him as her father shook his hand, her mother kissed him on the cheek. He received both with flaming cheeks and a smile. When they went to sit after each pressing a kiss to her cheek, Killian reached for her hand. 

“You’re late,” he teased. “I thought you’d changed your mind.”

She smirked at him. “Wild horses, babe. Wild horses.” 

“I know when you’re quoting something,” he reminded her with amusement. 

“Are you nearly done?” Tink asked, rolling her eyes. “I thought you two wanted to get married tonight. Or is that not why I was woken by a pirate in the middle of the night?” 

“Nearly,” Killian said before raising Emma’s hand to his lips, catching her eye. “You are breathtaking, Emma,” he told her and the way he said it she couldn’t think of a single way to tease him. So she smiled, her cheeks flushing. 

Tink gave a small speech, one that was surprisingly moving despite her cynical exterior. Emma was reminded then of how long she’d known Killian as she spoke of how when she’d met him he hadn’t cared for anything but revenge. She said that she’d never seen anyone go after something so relentlessly, so recklessly… until he met Emma and he fought for her love and fought to keep it with more strength and more commitment and determination than she’d known him capable of. 

She said how when she first met Emma she’d never met someone so closed off, so afraid of love, but that she’d also never seen someone open herself up to it so willingly so fearlessly once she did. 

She said, a little begrudgingly, that it was rare for two people to find their other halves, to find someone they wanted to be with enough to want it every day, to fight for it and work for it every day. But she’d seen it in them. And they could trust her on that. She was a fairy. True love was her job. 

“Do you have rings?” Tink asked before proceeding and Killian’s face dropped. Emma reached out, put a hand over his heart, over their heart, over his tattoo.

“No,” she shrugged. “But we literally share a heart so I think we’re good on the symbolism.” 

Killian spoke his vows first. 

“Emma, I have lost you and found you more times than I can count. More times than anyone should ever have to. I know that you’ve faced abandonment in your life, and you’ve faced loss. But I promise that I will never, never stop fighting for you, for us. I’ll never stop finding my way back to you, no matter what the world throws at us. I have loved you since you held a knife to my throat and called me out as a liar, and having you choose to love me back, despite everything, is the greatest achievement of my long life, and the greatest honour. I promise to always try and live up to your love, and to love you, with my whole heart, forever.”

Fucking hell, Emma wanted to say as she dropped his hook to wipe at the tears in her eyes. But she knew that was not appropriate for a wedding. Could she just kiss him now? Was that allowed? Or did she have to wait for Tink to give them permission? She took a steadying breath, refusing to not make it through her own vows because of stupid tears. 

“Killian, I’m not much for words. You know that,” she said and he smiled knowingly, his eyebrow ticking up. “But if this life, this crazy life with magic and curses that I’ve been living since I met you has taught me anything, it’s that I will always, always love you. We’ve fallen in love three times now. Three times you’ve been able to make me believe in you, trust you, when you know how hard that is for me. No matter what version of you I’ve met, whatever version of me I was, I’ve loved you. And if that tells me anything, it’s that I’ll love you always - forever. No matter what darkness or light we face in the future, it doesn’t matter because I know that we’ll face it together. Love is strength and with you I’m stronger because I know I don’t have to always be strong. With you I’m better because I know I don’t always have to do everything alone. And with you I’m - I’ve never been happier.” 

Tink sighed, defeated. “Oh god, just kiss her. I know you want to.” 

Killian laughed, slid his hand to Emma’s cheek and pressed his lips to hers. It was shorter than he wanted, she could tell, but they still had a ceremony to complete. “Not bad, Swan,” he quipped. “I think I’m rubbing off on you.” 

Emma rolled her eyes. “Just shut up and finish marrying me,” she said. 

“As you wish,” he promised. 

[streetbottle18]

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Promediate Panel Mediator Paul Kirkwood Shares His Experience Of Remote Zoom Mediation.

Household Mediation In London & Kent.

The celebrations' previous attempts to discuss the issue had been unsuccessful. The mediation developed out of David's claims of disability discrimination and also his cases for civil service injury benefit and illness retired life. The employer rejected the accusations as well as withstood the claims on the basis that they had actually made reasonable adjustments to take into account David's disability which they had not discriminated against him. In this instance two participants of a team were experiencing recurring troubles as well as in spite of the best initiatives of the department manager and Human Resources might not find a resolution to the difficulties.

From my point of view the whole procedure has actually gone really efficiently, from my initial telephone call with Alison with to Sarah your office supervisor completing our brand-new vendor documents and also naturally John for being aggressive in contacting me. Both and have actually likewise asked me to pass on their thanks to you, also discussed he was really impressed with the service that has been offered.

Promediate Panel Arbitrator Paul Kirkwood Shares His Experience Of Remote Zoom Mediation.

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Family Members Mediation In London & Kent.

Workplace Mediation is quicker as well as even more budget-friendly than tribunal or court preceedings. It can likewise bring back workplace connections and also enhance communication between colleagues. Mediation is provided on a fixed cost basis as well as includes a preliminary evaluation on the viability of mediation, specific meetings and a joint conference. To attend this course, you must have been formerly educated as a mediator, or have practiced as one. If you would love to work in this field and also put your competence as a mediator to the solution of worker wellness, this course is made for you. The same applies in instances where lawyers or administrators differ or even where there is a disagreement over the terms of a will.

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[queenchaos]

So...I did a thing....

Ahhhh I’ve been so bored during these times that I went back through old art n my many DED DeviantArt accounts. I found this old beauty from 2013-14.... and I decided to redraw my girl in the middle

It’s me and two old friends during our TMNT phase in middle school. Kelsi (Sophie), Ella (Me Emma), and Tara (Sara). We’d actually call each other by these names and have over text Role plays....

Wrote fanfics bout us n everythin! Here’s the only one that I help with:

Kelsi gave a tiny wave to Donatello as he left with his brothers for patrol. He turned around and looked at her with pleading eyes. He had tried to convince them he needed to hang back, but now that Tara was here they decided to let her take over on watch patrol there. He glanced between the Shellraiser and his friend.

"You sure you don't want me to-"

"Nope! I'm fine, Tara will be here, and if I run into problems I can call. Just go, I can handle myself!" Tara gave a sharp nod and motioned with her hands for him to move along.

"Go on Don, I've got her." He hesitated before slipping inside and driving off. There was a moment of silence between the two cousins, smiles beginning to form on their faces.

"Is he gone?" Kelsi stretched her neck in an attempt to get a closer look. Tara ran over and peeked out.

"Gone, the taillights just disappeared." She looked back with a grin. "Ready?"

"Ready!" She snatched her laptop from underneath her wheelchair and opened the lid, browsing through the list they had made an hour earlier, complete with links and information underneath each case.

It wasn't that they were hiding this from the turtles they just…they wanted to do this on their own. If any of them figured out what it was they were up to, they were toast. No doubt that they would immediately be banned from continuing their new pastime, and life would go back to its former dull throbbing. There were nine pages worth of things to look at, and they couldn't choose for the longest time.

"We might want to start with something easy." Tara sighed, leaning back and scanning her eyes over the list. "I don't know, like maybe a missing cat."

"That's way too easy."

"Not for you." She teased. "But yeah, I know. What are you thinking?"

"Maybe bump it up a notch and try missing person?" Kelsi scrolled the cursor over the link to the site.

"You do realize you're on that list right?" Tara smirked. "Lucky me, I found Kelsi, how much money do I get?"

"Shut up." Kelsi threw her head back and laughed. "Just shut up, that's not funny."

She turned back to the screen while her cousin gave a fake pout. "Seriously, they'll be back in a few hours we need to pick something." She opened a link up to a case involving a missing car. It was merely out of curiosity, she had a feeling their first job would end up being a cat after all. She skimmed over the article and blinked in confusion, mumbling to herself.

"What is it?"

"Just reading, according to this article the car disappeared last Sunday when some hijacker stole it, but according to the owner, the car never left his garage."

"Pshh, well it's gone now, it had to end up leaving at one point or another." Tara leaned in closer to read the tiny print. "Footage? The guy kept six cameras in his garage? Must be quite the car."

"Yeah, it is actually." Kelsi opened up the picture attached. A cherry red Corvette that shone like the sun came up on the screen, and Tara could only cringe and suck in air through her teeth.

"Ouch, talk about money down the toilet."

"If there's a reward of over 1,000 dollars then he's not too hurt over it."

"One thousand?! For a Corvette?! This guy's trying to pull off some bargain, nobody's going to look for a Corvette with only one thousand dollars to gain."

"Nobody…except us."

"No."

"Tara! Come on!" Kelsi whipped her head around and pleaded, whining and shaking the monitor. "One thousand dollars, we can get it if we try!"

"Absolutely not. Not for that much money."

"We could weasel more out of him when we're done." Kelsi gave a grin. She wanted this really bad, Tara could tell. Though she didn't blame her, she spent a lot of time down there after all. The smell was beginning to become the norm for Tara. That was new.

"You are evil." Tara laughed.

"Come on, are you in or are you out?"

Tara hesitated. She wanted the money out of it, she wanted the adventure out of it, and she wanted to completely defy all rules she had been given in the past week. And finding that Corvette with her cousin could give her all of it. Kelsi held out her hand and raised an eyebrow, giving another annoying whiny plea. Tara sighed and shook her hand, letting another smile spread across her face.

"I'm in, let's go get that car."

Tara had her head phones plugged into her phone, simultaneously FaceTiming Kelsi as she walked down the streets of New York. It smelled like gasoline and crap, but she had started the mission and she was fine with it. The boys were on the other side of town, nothing could bother her as of right now.

“Okay, the garage should be coming up on your left,” Kelsi said. She was peering at the directions on her laptop and looking up to check on her cousin every two minutes. “There’s an alarm planted on every angle of it though, watch it.”

“How am I going to get in then?” Tara replied, making eye contact with her cousin through the screen. The resolution was fuzzy still, but she could manage. “I can’t take down all of the alarms, there are probably hidden ones.”

“Yeah, there are.” Kelsi began squinting at the screen again. “But you might be able to take them all out if you could disable the mainframe on the top floor.”

“I don’t know how to disable the mainframe Kels’, I’m not that smart.” Tara approached the building and crossed the street, leaning up against the side of it and pretending to smoke with a fake cigarette she had made a few minutes earlier. “I wish you could take it out for me.”

“I can’t, I would have to be there in person, besides, I’m not even sure I could accomplish that, I’m not terribly good with computers outside of error code fixes.”

“Then what do I do? I’m lost as to what you want from me here.” Tara peeked down the sides of the alleys, hoping nobody was listening in on their conversation. The feed went static, then came back in.

“You need to climb up the fire escape on the tattoo parlor next door and hop across to the roof of the garage.”

“Hop across? As in, jump-in-mid-air-and-land-on-the-other-rooftop across?”

“Yes, that kind of across? Cool?”

Tara swallowed a lump in her throat and shrugged, stuffing her fake cigarette back into her pocket. She found the fire escape and swung up trying to make as little noise as possible. It was really dark outside, but a few people roamed the streets checking out street vendors. Her main fear was either falling from the building or getting caught. She couldn’t choose which one was worse.

“I’m at the top.” Tara’s hair blew off to the side and she looked back down at her phone. Kelsi had her eyes fixed on her cousin with a weak smile and twitchy hands. “I’m going to jump now.”

“Just pray you don’t end up like me.”

“Thanks for the encouragement.” Her heart pounded as she approached the edge of the building and scuffed her foot on the concrete ledge. It definitely wasn’t comfy below, but she had to jump now or the entire mission would end. Was this even worth it? Self-doubt was incredible.

Tara gripped her phone tight, took in a deep breath, and pushed off. The first few seconds were slow motion, she couldn’t even tell she was falling or flying through the air. She didn’t dare open her eyes, she shut them tight enough for them to split. Her legs flailed around uselessly. She landed on the other rooftop with a solid thumping, and all the air in her lungs whooshed out with a grunt. Concrete again, she had made the jump.

“Yes! Tara you made it!” Kelsi clapped and gave a cheer.

“I…I need a moment.” Tara’s body shook with fear and her limbs ached, but she was more than proud that she had made it. She was okay now, she could complete the mission. After thirty seconds she managed to stop shaking and stand up again.

“Okay Tara, see the entrance?”

“No, there’s an air vent and weeds up here.” Tara said. “And a few dead cockroaches, ew.”

“About that air vent…hehe…”

“NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT, NOT IN A MILLION YEARS KELSI!” Tara glared at her phone, her cousin rubbing the back of her neck and whistling awkwardly.

“That’s the only way into the mainframe com-“

“NO! I AM NOT SQUEEZING THROUGH SOME DUMB AIR VENT, THINK AGAIN CHAPMAN!” Tara shook her head furiously. No way in no universe was anyone, especially Kelsi, going to force her down a stuffy air vent where she couldn’t breathe, and where she would get her arms stuck a moment later.

“Tara, there is literally no other way to get in, I’m sorry.”

“Then the deal’s off, I am not climbing through an air vent.” Tara shook her head and pursed her lips. “Not today, not ever.”

“Tara!” The whiny voice had come back, Tara hated that voice. “Please, don’t you want that money?”

“Yeah, but it isn’t worth a trip down that death hole air vent.”

“Tara, I didn’t want it to come to this but…climb down that air vent or I will tell Raph.” Kelsi had a slightly amused face now.

“I don’t really care if you tell him.” Tara shrugged.

“We aren’t talking about the same thing Tara. I’m talking about this mission, here and now. He will kill you.”

There was a moment of silence where they just stared at each other making strange faces and giving glares. “Don will kill you too to be honest.”

“No he won’t. I didn’t leave the lair. He would kill you though for leaving me down here alone. Options Tara, tick, tock.” Kelsi seemed really amused now, she had the worst poker face known to mankind. Tara stared at her with a hard glare.

“What if I told Donnie that you did something illegal?”

“I didn’t do anything illegal. That argument is invalid.”

“You’re assisting my break-in into some rich guy’s car garage.” Tara gave a smirk and crossed her arms. “So much for ‘invalid’ sister.”

“Why are we even talking about this, get into the air vent and get those tapes!”

Tara really hated this. She really hated this. There was nothing else for her to do, she didn’t fancy the idea of jumping across the buildings and climbing back down the fire escape again. She didn’t fancy sitting there waiting for the cops or Raph to find her either. She could always try climbing down the side of the brick building though. “I’m climbing down the side of the building and coming back, let’s get a new mission.” Tara headed over to the side and stuck one leg over when-

“Tara you’re a coward! Get in that air vent or I’ll tell them all you were a wimp when I reveal our mission!” Kelsi shouted.

“THE THINGS I DO FOR YOU KELS’!” Tara swung her leg back over and punched the lid off the vent, sliding her body inside. Hot and stuffy. Delightful. She crawled further down and it got cooler though, before she knew it she was directly above the entrance to the mainframe security, and she dropped in as quiet as a mouse. “What now?”

“There should be a power switch on the wall, flip that down.”

Surely enough, there it was, a big red switch she took pleasure in killing. The lights flickered out, leaving Kelsi’s FaceTime as the only source of light. “Now turn it back on, the computer should have corrupted.” And corrupted it was, error messages flashing on the screens, security cameras twitching, and not a single alarm going off.

“Genius. You’re a genius Kels-“

There was a soft thump behind her and she whipped around to face another girl about her age with medium length dark hair. She wore a jean jacket and black leggings, and she brushed off her legs with a huff. Tara’s heart leaped and she took a staggering step back. The girl looked up with a crooked smile and shoved her out of the way, opening the door to the garage and slamming it behind her.

“Get back here you punk!” Tara stuffed her phone in her pocket and ran after her, trailing the ear buds on the ground and nearly tackling the stranger on the concrete if it weren’t for her quick dodge and arm lock. “Let go of me you idiot, I will kill you right now!”

“Yeah, sure.” Her voice was soft and delicate. “I’m guessing you’re looking for the tapes on that Corvette too? Well they’re mine, thanks for taking security out for me.” She dropped Tara and ran to the back wall, stumbled up and freed one of the cameras from its plastic holders. Tara was red in the face and ready to kill.

“What right do you have?!”

“Every right, the same rights you have.” She landed softly back on the ground and gave another grin. “But your nerd forgot to tell you that there was only one camera working that night. And that’s this one.” She pointed at the device and sighed. “Such a shame you missed out on that money. Well, I’ll catch you later!”

“NERD?! EXCUSE ME!” There was a muffled shout from Tara’s pocket that she ignored. She reached in and hung up the call. Kelsi couldn’t bother her right now.

She made a dash for the exit but Tara grabbed her by the arm and slammed her into the ground. “No thanks, I think I’ll catch you later!” She snatched the camera and sprinted out the door and down the stairs to the exit. Her feet practically flew across the cement, but the same girl flipped over her and landed in front of her, hand outstretched.

“It was mine first.”

“I don’t care.”

“Who do you think you are?” She crossed her arms and glared.

“Tara. Nice to meet you. Now if you’ll excuse me…” She ducked in-between her legs and kept running. “I have business to take care of!”

Tara hated this girl, she wanted to put a good nineteen feet between them and get back to the lair before any of the turtles came back. Patrol time was almost up. She could hear the footsteps behind her though, that idiot was going to follow her. She needed to lead her in the wrong direction.

She reached the bottom and skidded across the ground to the fire exit, but the girl yanked her hair, stole the camera, and pushed ahead again. Tara shouted and cursed, waving her fist and chasing after her, but the dark haired girl disappeared into the dark alleys across the street before Tara could catch her. A small piece of paper fluttered in the breeze, Tara figured it were just a shred of a magazine or newspaper. But instead it had handwritten words on it in silver sparkling pen ink. She snatched it from the wind’s grasp and fumbled picking her phone back up to redial Kels’. The note made her even angrier.

Have a wonderful day!

~Ella

Tara crumpled up the scrap and stomped on it, her breathing heavy again. She slipped back into the sewers and trudged through the raw sewage all the way back.

Ella was going to regret messing up her chance for the money.

She was going to regret it.