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booksteaandtoomuchtv · 6 months ago

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Witchy Woman (10/10)

0.5 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

LOOK AT THIS STUNNING ARTWORK BY @cocohook38

Summary: When Emma came into her position as Storybrooke Coven Leader, she ended things with the powerful Vampire Overlord, Killian Jones. She’s spent over a decade working alongside him and ignoring the growing tension between them.

During his best mate’s wedding, Killian decides he is done waiting. He is ready to have his mate back in his arms (and bed) again. Emma is not an easy woman to woo, but Killian has never backed down from a challenge.

When Emma’s jilted ex-boyfriend returns to town and Emma goes missing, Killian will stop at nothing to get her back and ensure that nothing can ever separate them again.

Rating: E

CW: Mention of domestic abuse, blood and blood drinking (vampires), threatening situations, minor violence, death, mention of parental death

Entry for Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2023 (@cssns)

Tag: @anmylica, @deckerstarblanche, @elfiola, @goforlaunchcee, @jrob64, @kmomof4, @pirateswhore, @stahlop, @teamhook, @tiganasummertree, @undercaffinatednightmare, @xarandomdreamx, @zaharadessert (let me know if you want to be added or dropped)

Author Note:

I confess that I struggled with this chapter far, far more than I could have predicted. Some of it was stress-induced writer's block that has started to clear as we approach the final stages of this move. Some of it was the fear of ending this in a way that leaves you disappointed.

I have pages and pages of struck material as I debated what to do with this chapter. With the conflict resolved and most of the questions of who, how, and what answered, I wrestled with what ending would make this story feel complete.

After months of writing, rewriting, stalling, scowling, and saying "I need to write this one chapter for my supernatural summer fic this weekend", I humbly set this before you and hope that it was worth the wait.

I cannot thank the CSMM Discord server enough for the encouragement and unfailing support in getting any writing done, but especially for the love and check-ins surrounding this fic. Thank you so, so much.

Finally, extra love to Marta and Krystal for having a sixth sense for when I was writing again. Your notes, check-ins, cheering, listening to my life drama, prayers, and such have meant more to me than you could ever know.

Enjoy! ---- ---- ---- ----

Sometime later...

Killian had never known nerves as he did now. He could feel his hold on his magic slipping as his emotions threatened to get the better of him as though he were a child again - rather than a mature vampire with centuries of experience successfully regulating his emotions and controlling his magic. Not knowing what to do with this abundance of jittery energy, Killian paced around the beautiful, blooming red Middlemist flowers.

When he pictured this scene in his mind, he thought the flowers would set a romantic scene. They were a favourite of Emma’s and with Ruby’s affinity for earth magic, they’d made a beautiful field of flowers where Regina’s corrupted magic had once left nothing but rot. Now, he wondered if the red was more reminiscent of blood than passion. Maybe the location of that horrible event in their past should not have been revisited for this particular moment.

He could hear her careful footsteps entering the forest, her steady heartbeat calling to him and calming him all at once. He reached into his pocket - just making sure - and waited for her to arrive at the clearing.

“Killian,” she called before he could see her, a smile clear in her voice. “You do know��” But whatever she intended to say next failed her as she stepped into sight. "Oh," Emma breathed out. Her eyes were wide as she scanned the flowers now overflowing the grove.

“I, erm,” Killian’s voice cracked. “You came into my life and filled the bleakest parts of it, of me, with hope, so I wanted to do the same for you.”

“This is beautiful. Thank you.”

Killian knelt before her and held the intricate ring between them, the sapphire and diamonds glittering in the sunlight. He smiled up at her, the shimmer of tears present in her eyes, and - instantly - all the words he rehearsed for weeks escaped him. “Please, will you share the rest of your life with me?”

Sometime a bit later...

At some point, when Emma was not paying attention, Killian had become essential. It wasn't that she needed him to survive, that fear that had kept her from giving herself over to the pull of their connection when they were younger. Rather, with him, her life was simply better.

Looking back on it, she realised this was a truth that she had always known - when they spent all those years apart, they still worked together and were friendly. Even with solid walls protecting her heart, she could not deny they made a good team. Now those walls were a distant memory. Now her heart beat in time with his, a ribbon of magic between them confirming the pull she had always felt toward him had always been more than a passing attraction. Killian had once told her they were mates. Mary Margaret had said they shared True Love and that was a powerful, but rather mysterious, magic. Emma thought of it more as two wandering, lost souls finding a home, a sanctuary, in one another.

Coming home to Killian every night had been a bit of an adjustment. Emma spent her life solving problems for other people, but she often buried her thoughts or issues away. Killian gave her space to exist without and room to…feel. At first, she would apologise for spilling out all her problems or being so needy. He’d pull her into him, ask her about her troubles and validate her feelings until her guilt faded away and just peace remained. Overtime, she realised that this was something she should have always had - space and time to be more than someone else’s problem solver.

A sharp jab beneath her ribs interrupted her musings. She rubbed her hand against the round protrusion now visible on one side of her hugely pregnant belly. Mary Margaret assured her that her baby bump was perfectly normal, but Emma worried she would never see the stairs below her or be able to pick up something she'd dropped, again. A part of Emma wondered if her little one was maybe too comfortable and would just keep growing and growing... Elsa assured her that her healthy baby boy would be here very soon. Emma had been so thrilled to tell Killian they were having a boy that she forgot to ask Elsa to define “soon.”

The tiny foot pushed into her palm. Unlike the previous movement, this was a gentle pressure against her hand. As ready as she was to meet her little one, she knew she’d miss having him to herself like this. She knew he was a creature of habit; she could tell the time down to the second based on his movements. About five minutes before her usual lunch break, he would be active except on Wednesdays. He didn’t move much on Wednesdays, probably busy growing and such. After dinner, he got the hiccups. He always played back when she pressed her hand against him. It was strange how much she felt she knew this little creature despite having never seen his face or heard his voice.

"Your smile could ignite wars," Killian said as he crossed to her. He kissed her cheek, "inspire masterpieces." He kissed her other cheek, "and revive the blackest of hearts." He met her lips with a sweet kiss, his hand cradling her jaw and his eyes closed as he savoured the kiss as though it were water and he a man lost in the desert. No matter how often they kissed or how chaste the kiss, Killian savoured them all in this way - as though he had been dying and she had given him the air he needed to survive.

Despite the flush his flowery words brought to her cheeks, she rolled her eyes at him. She wrapped her hand around his and took a small step back, pressing his hand to her pregnant belly where the foot had been moments before. "He's up."

"Hey, lad." At the gentleness and awe wrapped around those words, Emma's heart threatened to burst. She thought she could not love this vampire more, but still, more depth remained. Sometimes, she wasn't sure her heart could hold it all.

A series of kicks met his words and touch. Killian's answering smile made her eyes burn with tears - the moment too perfect, too...everything...for her to process.

"I love you," she said wishing there was another word or phrase to relay the emotions rolling through her in this moment. It was love, sure. But, it felt like so much more. It was bigger, endless and boundless, eternal and ancient. She felt a sudden warmth wrapping around her and flowing through her, Killian's emotions meeting hers and holding them together through that strange bond they shared.

Even more time later...

Emma’s head rested heavily on his chest. Killian ran his fingers through her hair, gently taming the wild locks that had reached out to tickle his chin. He listened to her heart and breathing as she slept. Despite the soothing sound of her steady heartbeat and the softness of her features as she dreamed, he felt the chill of fear creeping up his spine.

She will wake with the sun. He held firm to that thought; it was his anchor through this particular storm.

Years may have passed, but the dread he’d felt that long week, as he waited for her to wake, refused to dampen or fade. Rather, it wrapped around his heart and stole quiet moments like this one from him.

He recalled the evening before in as much detail as he could pry from his memory. The long relieved sigh that had escaped from Emma as she sank into her side of the bed, the soft sound of her voice carrying from Liam’s room as she read last night’s chapter to him and his sister as they drifted off to sleep, her green eyes sparkling with humour when Hope transformed her lamb stew into cereal when Killian refused to give into the toddler’s demand, the comfortable - almost routine - kiss she gave him when she arrived home. Hundreds of similar moments came together to paint the full picture of their life together. Recalling them had loosened the tightness in his chest until he was able to watch his wife as she slept without wondering if she would find his way back to him when morning came.

She rolled off him, taking the covers with her. Rest would be even more elusive than usual this evening. Killian considered slipping out of bed for a late-night drink, but the chill of fear threatened to return. The warmth of Emma’s back pressed against his arm kept him grounded - leaving was not an option tonight. With a sigh, Killian picked a book up from his bedside table and settled in to pass the night.

A few chapters later, a solid thud from Liam’s room pulled him back out of the story. The soft sound of blankets rustling followed shortly after, his only warning, before the air shimmered and deposited his youngest in his bed. Hope’s small toes were already digging into his side like tiny daggers as she wiggled and snuggled in what little space existed between him and his wife. He wrapped an arm around the little intruder and tucked her close to his chest, hoping not to disturb his wife. Hope turned into him- her head tucked comfortably (for her) in the crook of his arm and her eyes already closed. A soft sound between a coo and a sigh escaped from the intruder - somehow she was asleep once more. Killian watched her in wonder.

“You two are heartbreakingly beautiful together. It’s almost unfair,” Emma teased, her voice a gentle whisper in the night.

“Amazing how they fall asleep so quickly when they crawl in here at night given the battle they wage at bedtime. I am sorry we woke you, love.” He leaned toward her to press a kiss into her temple. But, pinned down as he was beneath the sleeping tot, he could not quite reach. He frowned dramatically at her - take pity on a poor vampire?

With the slightest eye roll, Emma relented and brushed the softest kiss on his cheek. When she pulled back and made to lie back down, his frown deepened into a full pout. A slight curve to her lips was all the warning he got before she leaned forward once more and nipped his bottom lip. She soothed the sting of her teeth with a few deep kisses before breaking their contact with a very self-satisfied smile.

Killian ran his tongue over his lips to capture the warmth lingering from her kisses. Her loving teasing had melted away the last of his earlier anxieties. She slipped from the bed, his shirt falling to her thighs, and disappeared down the hallway. He smiled at her disappearing form and, content with his daughter in his arms and a lightness in his heart, drifted off to sleep.

Much later…

It was Sunday, so the delicious rich scent of a roast permeated through the house. He found Emma in the kitchen with flour covering her arms and the tip of her nose as she formed a pie crust. It would be spiced apple pie since that was Artie's favourite and Emma doted upon the child. Killian was also known to spoil the young boy, but who could blame them?

Killian was fairly certain that Hope’s little boy was the most perfect creature ever to have been formed, so they took every opportunity to shower Artie with all the adoration and love they could.

Being a parent had been a journey - sometimes rewarding and sometimes endlessly frustrating. Being a grandparent, however, was an absolute delight. Not only did he get to watch his strong-willed, independent daughter grow into a compassionate and endlessly patient mother, but he also got to soak up the phases of Artie's childhood in a way he hadn't as a parent. Rather than anticipating the next developmental milestone, worrying over the best school decision, or trying to figure out the best strategy to parent finding his child on the top of the kitchen cabinets at four in the morning, he found his role as a grandparent allowed him to be able to just play again.

“Are you revealing your secret project today?”

“I believe it is ready.” Killian looked out of the window overlooking the play set he had been designing and building over the last few weeks. Since Artie was over a few times a week, hiding the mammoth from the little pup had been quite a challenge, but Killian had somehow managed.

“The pirate ship theme is a nice touch. Artie loves your high seas tales, even as unbelievable as many of them had become…” Emma said as she smiled up at him. The sight stole his breath, as it had the first time she turned the full force of her unfiltered smile on him. Would there ever be a time where this woman would fail to affect him so deeply?

“Are you accusing me of embellishing my stories?” Killian asked with mock offence.

“It has been a few hundred years. You cannot be blamed for misremembering a few details.”

“I have fabricated no details of my experiences.”

Emma cocked in eyebrow - or tried to, Killian was still the most skilled that that trick - in disbelief. “The kraken, Killian?”

“Every word of it is true.”

“Oh, yes. The kraken saw into your soul and deemed you a kindred soul and so joined your fight against the Royal Navy.” Killian’s ears turned a pink, even as he confirmed that, that was the truth of it. “It had nothing to do with your crew sneaking the fish you were feeding the monster for over a month onto their ships the night before the battle.”

“Aye...well, that might’ve played a small part,” Killian admitted sheepishly.

“Mmhmm,” Emma agreed. She was pouring the filling into the crust - cinnamon, nutmeg, and sugar warmed the air around them.

Home. Both the feeling and the word filled him at present. He’d always pictured it as a building, a physical safe harbour to weather one’s life. But after decades spent with Emma, he knew it could be found in a relationship, in another person, and in the life that you create with them.

“PAPA!” The shout was the only warning he had before his grandson launched at him, propelling them down to the floor in a heap of giggles. Today, their home would be filled with the family they created and there was nothing more Killian dared to want.

Much, much later…

The legend that soul mate lifespans were entwined was proven true as decades of life faded into centuries. They shared joys beyond what either of them had dared dream. They weathered storms together, learning to turn in toward one another when they needed strength or a haven in which to be vulnerable. And through it all, they held fast to one another, secure in the love they shared and the partner with whom they shared it.

In other words, they truly lived happily ever after.

Notes:

Oh, I hope you enjoyed this. I have been really anxious about hot to end this work and I really, really hope that you enjoyed the glimpses of their ever after. I look forward to hearing from you... even if I've let you down a bit. (If so, I am very sorry. I cannot emphasise just how many rewrites and attempts I made at this - and this is the one that felt the most right to me. I would ABSOLUTE understand if it doesn't feel as such to you.)

#captain swan #once upon a time #killian jones #captain hook #killian x emma #cs fanfic #cssns23 #emma swan #ouat #cs ff #the most delayed chapter that has ever lived?

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laianely · 4 months ago

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No Rest For The Immortals, Chapter 3

Tag people who may be interested: @killianxswan @teamhook @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @caught-in-the-filter @tiganasummertree @stahlords @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @zaharadessert @bluewildcatfanatic @once-upon-a-happy-end @ultraluckycatnd @qualitycoffeethings

#cssns24 #captain swan #captain swan fanfics #emma swan #killian jones #once upon a time #ouat #laianely’s fanfics #no rest for the immortals

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princess-and-the-swan · 7 months ago

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CS Fic Recs: Sex Pollen

Happy (smutty!) Sunday and happy mother's day! To commemorate such a wonderful day, I thought I'd put together a list of some great CS Sex Pollen fics I've found.

Bouquet for Two ...with a View by @belovedcreation

all i want is you by @caprelloidea

A Cursed Land by totheendoftheworldortime79

abandon by @wistfulcynic

Because by @phiralovesloki

Don't Touch by majorshipper

Amatory by On the Darker Side

If there's anything I missed, please let me know! I tried to only get the super smutty ones in this list, but I'm sure there's a handful more out there if you look hard enough! Enjoy!

#captain swan #ouat #cs fic rec #emma swan #killian jones #captain hook #captain swan fanfic #sex pollen #one-shot #smut #rating: e #pwp

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csgiftexchange · 20 days ago

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This event will again not be taking place this year.

I am focusing on my, and possibly the, last year of Captain Swan Secret Santa. Which does currently have sign ups live right now. You can find that post HERE

But I want to make it clear though this event has only happened one year this event is not abandoned. The one year it did happen it was very fun and I enjoyed running it. I do hope that this event can run next year maybe we can even do a Christmas in July gift exchange so we don't have to wait for the winter season.

#captain swan #cs fanart #cs fanfic #cs fandom #csge #csss #cssecretsanta #csss2024 #cssecretsanta2024 #killian jones #emma swan #ouat #once upon a time

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donteattheappleshook · 4 months ago

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Not Broken At All Chapter 17/?

Summary:

A season 1 Neverland AU. Emma is still trying to adjust to her new life as Sheriff of Storybrooke and mom to Henry, who still believes everyone in town is a fairytale creature. When she finds a badly beaten, one handed man while patrolling, she’s convinced he’s crazy. He is, after all, rambling about fairies and shadows and crocodiles. But when Henry is suddenly taken out the window of a house everyone believes is haunted, the madman in the hospital might be her only hope of getting her son back. Whether he likes it or not.

Rated E

Catch up on Ao3 (where my italics work) or on Tumblr 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Thank you thank you thank you @the-darkdragonfly for helping me so much with this chapter I literally wrote at your kitchen table lol.

This one is a bit shorter because I had to move the last scene to the next chapter or it would have been like 10k long…. but hopefully that means chapter 18 is coming soon!

(at least you didn't have to wait a year for chapter 17?)

*******

Part 17

Emma follows Killian’s eyes as they dart towards the ceiling, the deck above their heads. It’s dark out, but not the dark of night, the dark of an oncoming storm, that ominous, looming chill of electricity in the air, the waves lapping against the sides of the ship that rocks unsteadily against the threatening sea. A shiver runs down her spine. Whether Pan’s here or not - he’s fucking furious.

There’s a knock on the door, Wendy not waiting for permission before pushing it open. “Is he here?” Killian asks, voice low.

She shakes her head, holding a small, empty vial. “Not yet. But Ianeira sent a warning - he’s on his way and he’s not happy.” She looks out at the first heavy drops that land against the window like bullets. “Obviously.”

“Get the boys below deck,” he orders, still not raising his voice above the rumble of the storm outside. “Scarlet,” he adds, the younger pirate leaning against the doorframe, “go wake the crew. Tell them to be ready for a fight.”

“What are you going to do?” Wendy frowns like she already knows the answer.

“Handle Pan.”

“Absolutely not.” Emma answers at the same time as Wendy’s “like hell” rings through the air. “This was my idea. I’ll go deal with the consequences,” she insists, but her words are ignored as the two captains continue to argue. Will shoots her a sympathetic shrug from his place in the doorway.

“We don’t have time to argue,” Killian finally snaps at his second, standing and grabbing Emma’s pants from where she hung them last night before tossing them to her. “Pan and his Lost Boys will be here any minute and we need to make sure the boys are hidden and the crew is ready to defend the Jolly.”

“Is that an order, Captain?” Wendy asks, arms crossing over her chest and Killian stiffens. Emma didn’t miss the weight put behind the question.

“Cap-” he starts but she cuts him off.

“No. No more of this ‘I’m not the captain’ or two captains bullshit. If you’re going to pull rank and make me follow orders then you don’t get to decide you don’t want to be in charge anymore tomorrow. If this crew is going to put our lives on the line for your plan, and trust you to handle Pan, then you’re going to be the one to make the order. And if you die today -” Her harsh facade breaks just a fraction - “It won’t be because of something I could have stopped.”

The room is silent as the two stare each other down, the rush and howls of the storm growing louder outside, growing closer as they remain locked in the standoff, Wendy’s ultimatum hanging between them. “Well?” she demands.

He’s silent for another moment, but then he lets out a sigh. “Bring the boys below deck, make sure they don’t make a sound or Pan will remember that they’re here.” Another hesitation as neither she or Will move and his thumb runs over the ring on his finger. “That’s an order.”

Wendy’s shoulders both straighten and sag at once as she shifts into her new role, her face blank, betraying nothing, but Emma knows. She can see the hurt and the fear, of his betrayal and of the danger he’s putting himself in as she nods. “Aye, Captain.”

Killian flinches away from the title just the barest amount before she heads out of the room.

“What are you gonna tell him?” Will glares at his usurping captain.

Killian sighs. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.” He reaches for his shirt, pulling it on over his head and turning to find the man still there. “Go wake the crew,” he orders again and Will stares at him for a long moment before doing as he’s told.

Emma watches him as he dresses, yanking her own pants on and rising from the bed, the buttons of his vest fastened methodically, one by one with practiced fingers before he dons his greatcoat. She realizes what she’s watching as he slides his sword into its sheath, secures it to his hip: a soldier dressing for battle, each piece of his armour clad carefully down to the expression he smooths over his face, the one that hides the man who’d let her in his bed and held her against the threat of the night behind a cold, heartless facade.

“Killian,” she starts, ready to fight him on this. Rescuing the boys was her decision. She’d made them do it. This should be her responsibility. Nobody else's lives should be on the line for her choices. A boom of thunder cuts her off before a flash of lightning brightens the room.

“He’s here,” Wendy tells them, stepping back into the room. Killian doesn’t confirm if his orders have been followed - he doesn’t need to.

“Let me go,” Emma insists. “I can tell him it was my idea. I can -”

“No.” They answer in unison and before she can protest a boom of thunder echoes above them and an angry, lilting voice calls out above them.

“Thieves! Show yourselves!” The demand is followed by a roar of approval, small, young voices calling out in a battle cry she’s heard before. The room goes silent, tension in every line of her body and Killian’s. Wendy looks to her captain, waiting for orders, hands fisted like she’s trying not to barge up there herself.

Emma sees the barest flash of fear in his gaze before he schools it and turns to her, leveling her with a hard, commanding look.

“Go to the hold with the children. Promise me you’ll stay down there - that you won’t make a sound.” Emma glares at him, his face only inches away as he speaks so quietly she can barely hear him. He glares back just as defiantly. “Promise me, Swan.” She doesn’t answer. She’s not promising that. Not when it’s her fault Pan’s here and he could hurt them. “They need you. They trust you and they need to stay hidden. If Pan’s reminded they’re here… he might demand their lives in place of the dead we took.”

Her glare deepens. “I know what you’re doing.”

The corner of his mouth turns up just a fraction before he straightens it. “Then you should have no problem following through with it.” When her shoulders straighten his hand comes to her cheek. “We can’t risk Pan finding out about you - not while we don’t have a way of defeating him or saving Henry. You can’t protect anyone if you’re dead,” he adds, using her words against her now and her eyes narrow. “You can’t protect Henry if you’re dead.” That one hits hard and Emma knows he’s right - but she still doesn’t like it. She doesn’t want him dead either.

Pan’s warning rings out again, harsher this time - ‘Come out and face me, coward!’ - and Killian’s shoulders tense. “Fine,” she concedes. “But if things go bad -”

“You’ll stay right here.” It’s a warning, and she almost wants to call him on it, to see what he really thinks he can do to her that’s worse than the situation they’re already in, but she bites her tongue. He takes her silence as the end of the discussion. “Darling,” he calls over his shoulder. “Bring her to the hold and then join me on deck - Darling,” he tries again when she doesn’t respond, but Wendy’s attention is focused outside the cabin, staring out down the hall, a frown starting to pull at her brow and Killian’s matches it. “Wendy?”

“Where’s Will?”

“What?”

“Will.” Her voice is low, far away but rising with tightly restrained panic. “He should be back by now. Where’s the crew?”

As if on cue, a voice rings out loudly above them. “Pan! Two visits in as many days? To what do we owe the honour?” They rush to the stairs, crouched low looking out at where Will stands, alone, facing off against Pan. Fuck. Please don’t be an idiot. She can feel Wendy tense beside her and Killian reaches, grabbing his first mate’s arm.

“Don’t,” he warns and Emma’s surprised to see her try to yank her arm free. But he holds firm.

“Scarlet.” Pan sounds annoyed but intrigued nevertheless. “It’s been a long time.” He cocks his head, a small smirk on his childlike face. “You got old.”

“Go get the crew,” Killian orders, staring her down and not releasing her until the fight fades slightly from her eyes. He knows how much this must be killing her. “If there’s going to be a fight, we won’t be able to stop him alone. Bring them with you and meet me on deck.”

Will baulks. “How dare you! I’ll have you know I’ve the complexion of a man less than half my age.” He brushes a hand over his scruffless cheek as if to prove it.

There’s still resistance in Wendy’s stance but she nods, dashing off towards the crew’s quarters. Killian turns to her. “Stay here. Don’t let the children leave the hull.” She can only nod, still watching as her new friend continues to bait Pan. “Bloody idiot,” Killian mutters under his breath.

Emma grabs his arm, halting him. She waits until his questioning gaze turns to her. “Be careful. Please.”

He watches her for a moment, eyes darting up to the deck, and then takes her hand, presses a kiss to the back of it and nods the voices above growing louder. He spares her one last glance before dashing up the stairs.

“Hook,” Pan says as soon as he reaches the bow of the ship. “There you are. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Apologies,” Killian offers with a small bow and a polite smile. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Where are my shadows?”

“Your shadows? We don’t have any shadows here.”

“Don’t lie,” Pan snaps and Emma flinches. “You stole eleven lost boys from me. Those were my lives - I won them fair and square. Give them back.” Emma half expects him to stomp his foot, but it’s then that she realizes that he can’t - because he’s not on the deck. He’s flying, or hovering a few feet above it. Wendy had said that Neverland’s magic couldn’t touch the Jolly - does that mean Pan can’t either? Can he not set foot onboard?

“They’re at the bottom of the sea, I’m afraid,” Killian tells him with a wince and she can see the rage building in the small boy.

“Then I’ll take them from your crew. Eleven of them in exchange for the ones that you took.” Emma casts a glance back down the hall towards the hold where a dozen children hide.

“No need for that,” Killian begins. “They aren’t to blame for this little misunderstanding. I’m sure we can find a solution where you get what you want that’s fair.” Pan hesitates at the word fair. He loves his games - he loves his rules.

“Then who is to blame?” he demands. “Bring the thief forward so that he can be punished.”

“Unfortunately we-”

“I did it.”

“Scarlet,” Wendy hisses in warning, but he’s already taking another step towards Pan.

“It was my idea.”

Pan glares. “Why?”

There’s a pause and then Will smirks. “I just wanted to piss you off. For old time’s sake.”

The boy’s anger shifts into something cruel and amused. “Well then, you can pay the price for old times sake. You remember how much fun my punishments can be,” he adds. She sees Will’s back go stiff right before Pan’s hand plunges deep into his chest and Emma has to cover her mouth with her hands to catch the scream that tries to escape. The crew stills, petrified. This isn’t the first time they’ve seen this happen.

“Wait!” Wendy shouts as Will lets out a groan of pain. Killian grabs her arm, silencing her and holding her in place. Pan ignores her, pulling his hand free, something bright and red and glowing held in his palm. That can’t be what she thinks it is.

“Eleven lives,” he muses again, floating easily across the deck, thinking. He gives the thing a small squeeze and Will cries out falling to his knees. Pan smirks, he’s enjoying this, she can tell; he already knows what he wants to do and Emma’s nails dig into her palms, every bone in her body demanding she go up there and not let this happen. It should be her that pays the price. Not Will.

His fingers tighten around it again and Will stops breathing, hand clutched to his chest where his heart should be until finally, Pan loosens his grip, looking at Will with his head cocked again. “You really did get old, Scarlet. But maybe not old enough…” He looks him over carefully, then the mass in his hand. “Eleven Lost Boy’s lives… so many years - But I think we can make it an even hundred. For old times sake?” he smirks. “That sounds fair,” he decides. “You can pay me back a hundred years.”

When he squeezes the heart again, Will collapses onto the deck, bits of dust slipping from Pan’s fingers as the light flickers in and out and Emma can see Killian physically holding Wendy back now, knuckles white around the leather of her coat. Nobody breathes. The crew look like it’s taking everything they have not to run - either to Will or away from Pan. Instead they stand frozen.

She counts the seconds as they go by. One. Two. Three. Four. Five… Will rasps out a strangled cry, fists balling against the wood planks of the deck. Six. Seven. Eight… She watches him grit his teeth, sweat beading along the back of his neck, fighting. Nine. Ten. Eleven…

When she reaches eleven, Will takes his first breath in what feels like hours, the light in Pan’s loosened grip smaller and dimmer but still glowing, still beating.

“That should do it,” he smiles, returning Will’s heart to his chest.

Will gasps, settling his hand over it as if to feel the beat under it - make sure it’s really there. Then he frowns up at the boy. “Is… is that it?”

“Scarlet.” It’s Killian who snaps this time. “Below deck. Now.” Emma can’t see the look Wendy gives him when Will defers to her, but it sends him to his feet and across the deck in a second, head bent low.

“Emma,” he greets with all his usual bravado despite the raspiness of his breath when he finds her on the stairs. “Fancy seeing you here.”

She punches him in the arm. Hard. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Ow!”

“That was so stupid! What the hell were you thinking?”

Will shrugs. “I owed him one. And I’m not going to let Killian get one up on the galant gestures.”

“Hook.” Pan says, drawing her attention away before she can hit Will again. “If your crew isn’t going to play fair then they won’t get to play with us anymore”

“I’ll get them in line,” he promises and she can hear the edge in his voice.

“Good. Do you need a reminder of the rules? You were away for a long time…”

“I remember.”

Pan nods, happy now - a child getting his way. “Good. Then the game can continue.” He turns, hovering over the railing of the ship and casting them one last glance as the threat of a storm begins to clear. “But no more chances,” he warns. Both Killian and Wendy nod solemnly before he flies off towards the beach.

As soon as he’s gone, Wendy practically runs towards the cabin. “All of you,” Killian commands, drawing the crew’s attention away from their former captain. “Back to work. Now,” he snaps when they don’t obey immediately. They scatter, finding work to keep them busy.

Emma has to jump out of the way as the other woman barrels down the stairs, grabbing Will by the shoulders. She turns him one way and then another, hands coming to his face as she does the same to his head, checking for injuries. Finally, her hand settles on his chest and Emma can tell she’s counting heartbeats. Will lets her, not resisting as she checks him for any sign of permanent damage.

When she seems satisfied, she raises furious eyes to his, the hand at his chest fisting in his shirt and shoving him away from her. “Fuck you, Scarlet,” she bites out before storming off down the hall.

Killian takes over, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. Will is less willing to let himself be manhandled by him though, shoving at his arm even as he holds firm. “Do you not know how to follow an order, mate?”

“I’m not your mate,” he snaps back, more annoyed than angry. “And you’re not my Captain.”

“And here I thought we were getting along,” Killian answers sarcastically. “And you don’t have to like it, but I am your Captain and if you do that to her again -”

“Like you did when you took off to find Henry?”

“That was different. I did it to spare her the pain of losing someone she cares for.”

“So did I. Do you really think Pan would have been so forgiving if you’d taken the blame? You’ve been gone a long time, Hook. You’re not his favourite playmate anymore.”

“And you are?”

“I’m still alive aren’t I?”

Killian scoffs. “You’ve lasted a decade. Speak to me when you survive a century.”

“Well if we keep her alive we won’t have to,” Will snarks, nodding at Emma.

“Me?”

“I wouldn’t have stuck my neck out for you if I didn’t think you were actually going to change things.” Emma doesn’t have an answer to that, the weight of his faith in her more than she can handle right now. “Don’t make me regret it, aye?” he winces, rubbing at his chest.

“What did he do to you?”

He gives a small shrug. “Crushed my heart. Wasn’t so bad, really - I’ve had worse.”

“What?”

“It’s a particular favourite of his,” Killian explains.

“I’ve seen him do it to disobedient Lost Boys for hours - days once. He’s done it longer to me when I was his second. I’m surprised it was only…”

“Eleven seconds,” Emma supplies. The longest eleven seconds she can remember.

“Aye - I thought he’d be angrier.”

“What did he mean by you paying him back a hundred years?”

Will shrugs again. “Pan loves his riddles. I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough. I need to go find Wendy.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Killian warns and it almost sounds like a threat.

Will scoffs, finally shoving his hand away. “Please. I’ve done stupider things than egg Pan on.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Killian rolls his eyes and Will glares at him before smirking.

“I’ve become very good at getting her to forgive me.”

Emma wonders for a moment if she’s going to have to prevent a murder. “Get out of here before I get Pan to come back and crush your heart for good.”

“What? I thought we were mates -”

“Go,” Emma tells him. Before Killian follows through on that promise. Thankfully, Will isn’t stupid enough to push him any further and does as he’s told. She puts a hand on Killian’s arm. “Just remember that he almost died today. Cut him a bit of slack.” He doesn’t seem convinced, continuing to glare after the younger man. “And he might have saved our lives. He definitely saved mine.”

Killian scoffs, finally looking at her. “And he’ll never let us forget it.”

“So what’s next?” she asks, trying to distract him from his sort of daughter and her sort of boyfriend’s sort of love life.

“Hmm?”

“We’ve got the lorelei, we’ve got Tinkerbell, we’ve got a ship full of Lost Boys and pirates, we kept him from getting any more shadows… what do we do now?”

“We figure out what Pan’s plan is.”

“Can we not just… kill him?” she knows they can’t - probably - but she’s pretty sure the idea hasn’t been thrown out there yet so it’s worth a shot.

Killian shakes his head like she expected him to. “If we could, I’d have done it by now. I did once, when I first returned to Neverland after decades away. I ran him through with my sword trying to avenge my brother.” Her hand on his arm tightens without her meaning it to. “He pretended, made a whole show and lay there until I was sure he was dead - and then he started to laugh. Just another game - the first one I played with him even if I didn’t know it. He told me it was the only time he would let me win.”

“We’ll find a way.”

He smiles at her, small and half-hearted but she believes him. “I’m sure you will.”

***

“Why do we have to do this?” one of the boys - Kyle, she thinks - complains, dropping the wooden sword to his side. It had been so strange and jarring to learn some of the Lost Boys names over the last few days. “ We have nothing to do but wait ,” Killian had said. “Tink has let the Constant know that we’re ready to meet with them and they’ll send word when they’ve decided if they’ll hear us out .” For some reason, the boys had all been like Wendy in her mind, born ‘ somewhere around the 1880s, I think, ’ or Will, who’d come to Neverland during the Blitz, using dreams to escape the nightmares of real life. But this new group of boys weren’t characters out of a book or an old black and white photo.

“My mom named me after the guy in some robot movie that had just come out,” Kyle mentioned and it was a moment before it clicked. “The Terminator?!” He’d only shrugged. “That might’ve been it.” This boy was her age. He couldn’t have been born more than a couple of years after she was. Another boy’s tattered shirt had a faded image of Lilo and Stitch on it - he didn’t look more than twelve. These boys were just… kids. Regular kids like the ones she grew up with and the ones who lived in Storybrooke or Boston - boys like Henry. And now they were soldiers.

“We have to do this,” Wendy answers, giving his fake sword a tap with her own so his arm straightens, “because everyone on this ship needs to be ready to defend her when the next raid happens - If you want to live until the next one.”

“But we already know how to fight,” he whines. “We defeated you every time.” If Wendy’s upset at the casual mention of her crewmates being slaughtered, she doesn’t let it show. “I already know how to sword fight.”

“Do you now?” Killian calls from the helm before she can answer.

“Captain…” his first mate starts but he ignores her. He’s an imposing figure, clad in black leather with the metal of his hook gleaming in the sun and the weight of his sword heavy at his hip. As his footsteps echo across the deck as he makes his way over to where the boys had begun their training they all go silent.

“Now now, Mr. Darling, if the boy thinks he’s beyond our instruction he should have the chance to prove himself.” He stops in front of the new recruit, drawing his sword in a slow, measured movement, the tip an inch from the kid’s nose and Emma panics for just a second that he might cut him down right there. But then he turns to Wendy, “Bosun, get this boy a real blade,” and she realizes he’s had exactly the effect he intended as everyone around him tenses.

Wendy goes to fetch a weapon, shooting him the kind of eyeroll kids learn to make in front of adults without getting caught - one she knows very well.

“Think you can defeat me, boy?”

To his credit, Kyle straightens his shoulders, taking the offered sword and raising it to the Captain’s, ready for a fight. She thinks she might see the tiniest bit of approval beneath the scorn in Killian’s expression. The boy moves first, swinging at him with all his might as he deflects again and again. Killian’s toying with him - she knows he is. She saw Killian fight Will that first night on the Jolly. His blocks are too slow, letting the kid get within inches of hitting him. He doesn’t make a single attack, his feet unmoving and she’d think it was cruel if she didn’t understand why he was doing it.

Finally, when the boy starts to sweat, she sees Killian shift, adjusting his stance as he swings at his opponent. The block comes almost too late, only stopped by the way Killian pulls back at the last moment. He does it again, and again, backing the boy across the deck with blow after blow. There’s no flourish to it, no showmanship, just skill and finesse and strength and speed.

The kid starts to panic, the attacks coming too fast and Emma holds back a gasp when Killian’s blade slices across Kyle’s forearm. After that, it’s easy for Killian to twist his blade out of the kid’s shocked hand with his own, his elbow coming up to knock the boy flat on his ass. By the time he looks up, nose bloody, eyes dazed and watery, Killian’s sword is pointed at his chest, his brow arched in a harsh challenge.

“Please don’t kill me,” the boy says so quietly and so heartbreakingly that she thinks she sees Killian’s face soften just the barest amount before he takes a step back, dropping his sword.

“Listen, all of you,” he booms, though every eye on the deck is already on him. “You’ve never defeated anyone. Until now you’ve been playing a game and the game has been rigged. And I’m sorry to say, you’re now on the losing team. The only thing that matters from this moment on is staying alive. And the only way to stay alive is being a skilled enough fighter - and knowing how to hold that skill back enough - that Pan will want to fight you again.”

He lets this hang in the air for a moment, the boys’ faces showing different degrees of confusion and understanding and horror. “So all of you will follow Mr. Darling’s instructions and learn everything you can from him. You’ll fight to defend this ship, yourselves, and each other when the time comes because you’re part of my crew now.” He reaches a hook out to Kyle who sits cradling his nose and heaves the boy to his feet. “And we look after our own.”

Killian looks at the boy who nods, message received loud and clear, before clapping him on the shoulder. “Scarlet, see that our newest crew member’s wounds are tended to. He put up quite the fight.”

“Aye, Captain,” Will complies without argument or sarcasm and Killian must be as shocked as she is because he keeps his mouth shut.

“Darling must have said something to him,” he tells her when Emma joins him, his sword sliding carefully back into its sheath as he watches Wendy continue her lesson.

“Or maybe you just did.” Killian only looks at her, brow raised in disbelief before she gestures at the sword hanging at his belt. “So, come on, are you going to show me how to use this thing or not?”

His face splits into a shit-eating grin. “Ah, Swan, I’ve dreamed of the day that you’d ask me to show you how to handle my sword.”

***

“Do you want the good news or the bad news first?” Tinkerbell asks. She’d floated onto the ship that night, looking stronger than when Emma had last seen her - the few days with the Constant clearly having done her good. Her wings looked taller, fully unfurled, the crepe paper like skin no longer breakable and frail as they flutter behind her.

“Is there good news?” Killian sighs, standing from his desk where he’d been looking over maps of the island while Emma asked him questions about them, how each was different based on when it was drawn, what Pan had changed, who he had brought. He seemed unbothered by the fairy magicking his window open and letting herself in.

“They’ve agreed to meet with you. They haven’t agreed to help,” she clarifies when Killian looks surprised, “but they’ve agreed to hear you out.”

“And the bad news?”

“They’ll only meet us in Echo Caves.”

Killian lets out a heavy, long suffering sigh, thumb brushing the inner corner of his brow, words dripping with sarcasm. “Wonderful. Did they happen to give a reason why?”

“Something about making sure you can be trusted - some incident at skull rock?”

“It was a misunderstanding,” he mutters under his breath.

“Really because the way I heard it -”

“It’s fine. Tell them we agree to their terms. When do they expect us?”

“First light.”

Killian nods. “We’ll be there. And Tink,” he adds when she turns to leave. “Thank you.”

She sneers. “I’m not doing it for you.” And then she’s gone before he can say another word.

“What’s Echo Caves?” Emma pulls her knees up to her chest where she’s perched on the desk after she’s sure the fairy’s out of earshot and Killian’s sagged back in his seat.

“Another one of Neverland’s little delights,” he sighs again. “The magic of the cave compels you to share your deepest secret - whether or not you’re even aware of it.”

“Have you gone before?” she asks.

“Once.” His hand drifts up without her really noticing, fingers curling around her calf, thumb tracing over her shin and she thinks maybe it wasn’t a pleasant experience. “Pan wanted to test my loyalty.” She rests her chin on her knee, dreading what he may have had to confess to Pan to keep himself alive on this horrible island. He smiles up at her then, a put-on apathy. “Thankfully, I had many terrible deeds in my past to confess to.” He doesn’t give her a chance to say anything before he releases her and stands again - something dropped between them and something else put up.

“Are you afraid?”

Killian doesn’t look at her. “Always.” Her heart tightens. She understands - she’d only been here a few weeks and she’s been terrified every moment - apart from her brief experiment with fairy wine - centuries… she can’t imagine. “But not of the Constant. Tiger Lily may hold a grudge but they’ll do whatever’s best for this island, and so will their people. And I’ve no ill-intent towards them or love for Pan.” He looks at her then, pausing. “Are you?”

“Of having to spill my deepest secret to a bunch of strangers? No, why would I possibly be stressed about that?” she smirks half-heartedly.

“Strangers?” Killian raises a brow, sliding back across the room and resting his hand and hook on the desk on either side of her. “You hurt me, Swan. I thought we were friends - acquaintances at least.”

She shoves at his chest rolling her eyes and he smirks. “Usually a guy has to buy me dinner before he gets to hear the all sordid details of my past.” Or coffee in an empty theme park where a pretty smile and a well-placed sneak into his past makes her think she’s safe to reveal herself, to trust someone with all of it.

“Hey,” his thumb brushes over her knee as he tries to catch her gaze. “Where’d you go?”

Not anywhere he needs to know about - or anywhere she’d care to revisit. So she smiles at him, lets her foot brush against the side of his calf, teasing, distracting. “Just trying to figure out which of my deepest secrets are gonna come spilling out of me tomorrow.” He doesn’t believe her, his lie detector almost as good as her own, she's realized, but he doesn’t say anything about it.

“Well you are a mystery, Swan,” he tells her with a half-hearted smirk.

“Not for much longer, apparently.”

Something shifts in the way he’s looking at her, sympathy or understanding as he cocks his head. “You know you don’t have to come if -”

“I’m going.”

Killian huffs a laugh. “Of course you are. Well if there’s anything you want to get off your chest without an audience, now’s the time.” His eyebrow quirks up in challenge. “Won’t be a secret anymore if you tell me.” She meets it.

“What? Is one revelation about me not enough for you?”

Something shifts again, something heavier, her skin warm and humming with fear and anticipation as he looks at her the way he had when he’d been curled around her on the floor of the brig. His voice is lower when he speaks. “Perhaps I’d just like to know you, Swan.”

She casts her eyes to the floor, his gaze too intense - always too intense - before setting the smirk that had fallen from her lips back in place. “You first.”

“I’m an open book, love. Ask me anything you like.”

She has one question, one that’s been itching at the back of her mind since she’d seen the canvas of scars etched across his skin. “Who were you? Before you were here - before you were ‘Captain Hook’?”

His bravado falters for a moment. “I was many things. Son, brother, slave, sailor, lieutenant, captain, pirate, partner… None for very long.” He gives her another of those showy smirks. “It seems Hook is the only one that stuck.” Her heart breaks a little, so many loves lost and so many injustices done in such a short life. She thinks of the scars that had criss-crossed his back, that she’d asked about so casually then - slave he’d said - and she wishes she could do it over, pay both them and him the reverence they deserve. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

His hand slides to her wrist, to the laces she’d tied there the first day she’d come back to the sheriff’s office alone. All of his things had been gone. Desk cleared out, jacket taken from the back of his chair, the few things he bothered to keep - a tacky ceramic wolf, a photo of him and some friends she never bothered to ask him about, even the bottle of whiskey he kept in his top drawer - had been ransacked. He had no family that she knew of - no family that could be found at all - and she’d just known that it was Regina. She’d come in and wiped every trace of Graham clean like he never existed - apart from a single pair of boots forgotten by the back door.

“They belonged to someone I used to know.”

“Someone you cared for?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she shrugs. “He’s gone now.”

“It mattered enough for you to keep a piece of him with you.” He fingers the laces again, focusing on them, not making her meet his eyes again. “I know what it is to lose the people that matter most.”

Emma pulls her hand back, sliding them both behind her under the guise of leaning back on the desk and gives another dismissive shrug even as she can’t make herself look at him. “Yeah, well, when you grow up like I did you learn pretty quickly not to get attached.”

Thankfully, Killian knows how to take a hint, straightening and flashing her an off grin. “If only we all possessed such a skill, Swan.” Then, pushing away from the desk, “I best let the others know what awaits us all tomorrow.”

Emma swallows, this island has already taken so much from her - her son, her name, her memories - almost - her whole belief system… How much more can it really take? She doesn’t ask - not anymore as she slides into Killian’s bed instead of her own, and he doesn’t say anything as he joins her a few minutes later, just pulls her against him, breath warm and comforting against her cheek as they try to shut themselves off from the cries that ring out on the deck above them.

*******

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#captain swan #cs fanfic #cs ff #cs smut #cs au #cs neverland au #ouat season 1 au #cs neverland new year #don't hate me #It'll have a happy ending.... they just have to work for it #you can blame Kay for all the Will content in this one

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jrob64 · 9 months ago

Text

Pet for Rent, Chapter 1/4 (The Meet Cute) A CS Modern AU Story

For those of you who read "Sowing Seeds of Trust", you might remember that my dog Zeke had a starring role in it. To my great heartbreak, he died of cancer last June. When we rescued him, the shelter had named him Ernie, and he will be referenced with that name in this story.

Life without a dog proved to be very lonely, so at the end of August, we rescued another dog. The sad story of the dog in this story is what really happened to our new dog. He was named Norman and we renamed him Winston, just like in the story. That's actually him in the pic set with his 'ducky'.

This was supposed to be a short, sweet story, but somehow turned into 4 chapters. Updates will be once a week.

Special thanks to my beta @hookedmom and also to @beckettj and @zaharadessert for helping me understand the football (soccer) system in England.

SUMMARY: Emma Swan tries to cheer up her heartbroken son by 'renting' a dog from the local animal shelter. When she attempts to do it a second time, she makes a mistake, and realizes the dog has been rented by someone else the same day - a very handsome man named Killian Jones.

RATING: M (for smut in the last chapter, which can easily be skipped if that's not your thing)

WORDS: 7754

ALSO POSTED TO A03 & FFN

Story begins under the cut

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma Swan flopped down onto her sofa with a sigh. Since their beloved dog Ernie died three weeks ago, she had come to dread her eight-year-old son Henry’s bedtime. Every night when he said his prayers, he ended with, “God, please tell Ernie I love him and miss him, and please send me another dog. Amen.”

Her son knew the chances of getting a dog were slim to none because of his soccer practices and games, and Emma’s schedule for her new job at the sheriff’s station. They had no time to train a puppy.

Understanding why he couldn’t have a dog didn’t make his heart hurt any less. Her heart was just as broken, knowing the sadness and loneliness Henry was experiencing.

After decompressing for a few minutes, Emma’s searching hand located her phone on the end table. She unlocked it and opened her Discord app, selecting the icon representing the parents’ group of Henry’s second grade class. Sitting up a little straighter, she typed a message: Does anyone have ideas of how to help Henry get over the loss of his dog? He keeps praying for a new one, but it wouldn’t be fair to the dog to get one with our busy schedule.

She watched the screen intently for a couple of minutes, but when no names appeared to show that someone was answering, she tossed the phone onto the couch and went into the kitchen to load the dishwasher.

Forty minutes later, after cleaning up the kitchen, going through her nightly routine and changing into her pajamas, she went back into the living room. Television held no interest for her, and realizing she finished her last library book the previous evening, she picked up her phone to mindlessly play a game. Upon unlocking it, her screen opened to the Discord page and she saw three replies to her question.

The first two simply expressed sympathy for the loss of Ernie, but the third one offered a helpful suggestion. Have you thought about ‘renting’ a dog for a day? The animal shelter just outside of town offers that option. We did it for my mother when her Maltese died. The post ended with the web address for the shelter.

Emma immediately pulled up the site and, after searching the homepage, clicked on the tab for ‘services’. Scrolling down the list, she saw ‘Rent-a-Pet’ and selected it. As she read the description of how the program worked, she idly twisted strands of blonde hair around her index finger.

It sounded like a great compromise for their situation. For a donation to the shelter in the form of money, bags of pet food, treats or toys, one of the available animals could come home with them for several hours. The dogs and cats were guaranteed to be docile and house-trained, and could be adopted by the ‘renter’, if desired.

Clicking on the link taking her to the bios of the pets currently housed at the shelter, she filtered it to include only canines. Pictures of nearly two dozen dogs filled the screen, each more adorable and aww-worthy than the last.

Quickly ruling out any that were guaranteed to shed fur all over her house or were bigger than her son, her search was narrowed to nine prospects. She knew her rambunctious son would be keen to play outside with the dog and walk him or her to Storybrooke’s dog park, so a tiny fru-fru pup was out of the question, too. That left six.

She selected one at a time, reading about their breed and temperament. When she brought up the picture of the fourth candidate, the big, chocolate brown eyes and happy expression nearly made her heart melt.

‘Norman’ was a mixed breed and very little was known about him, because he was found tied to a stop sign in the middle of Portland, Maine. He was guessed to be a cocker spaniel mix and was approximately 1-2 years old. His black fur looked sleek and Emma knew he probably wouldn’t shed. A short video showed him romping and playing with another dog in the fenced play yard of the shelter.

Saving the page, she brought up the calendar on her phone and checked their schedule for the rest of the week. Henry had an early soccer game on Saturday, which would be over by 10:30, leaving the rest of the morning and afternoon free. Switching back to the shelter website, she hit the ‘Rent-a-Pet’ button again and began filling in the information, selecting ‘Norman’ when it gave her the choice of animals.

She decided not to tell Henry about the plan, opting to surprise him with it instead.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

“Great game, kid,” Emma complimented her son, ruffling his sweaty hair. “Your pass to Avery was a nice assist. That goal turned out to be the game winner.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Henry grinned around his mouthful of granola bar. “That’s the first time all season we beat the orange team.”

“I know, and I think that calls for a celebration, don’t you?” Emma fished her car keys out of her jeans pocket, before picking up her lawn chair and water bottle.

“Are we gonna get ice cream?” he asked, before cramming the rest of his snack into his mouth.

“You just ate a granola bar and a banana, and lunch will be in just an hour or so,” she laughed. “I have something else in mind.”

“Whaisit?” he queried, the unswallowed food muffling his voice.

“Well, I know how much you miss Ernie, and Violet’s mom told me about a program at the animal shelter that lets you rent a pet for a few hours,” she answered slowly, watching his reaction out of the corner of her eye. “So, I signed up to get a dog for you to play with until three o’clock this afternoon.”

Henry stopped in his tracks, swallowing down the rest of his snack as his eyes grew wide. “Really? You can do that?”

“Yeah, we’re scheduled to pick him up at eleven. What do you think about that?”

His exuberant shout of joy and sprint to the car was all the answer she needed.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma couldn’t keep up with her son once he unstrapped his safety belt, exited the car and bounded toward the front door of the shelter. He was already ringing the little bell on the counter for service before she made it inside and chided him lightly for not waiting for her.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with sandy hair and light blue eyes entered through a door, the barking of dogs stifled when it clicked shut behind him. He gave them a dazzling smile and greeted them warmly with a hearty ‘good morning’.

Emma reached forward to shake his hand. “Hi, I’m Emma Swan and this is my son, Henry.”

“David Nolan,” he responded, shaking her hand, then doing the same with Henry.

“My teacher’s name is Mrs. Nolan, the same as yours,” the boy told him.

“You wouldn’t happen to be in second grade at Storybrooke Elementary, would you?” David asked.

“Yeah,” Henry confirmed.

“Ah, well, that means your teacher is my wife!”

“Wow, cool!” Henry exclaimed. “She’s the best teacher I ever had!”

David’s grin grew even wider. “That’s good to hear. She tells me all about her students every evening and she thinks yours is the best class she’s ever had!”

“It’s quite a coincidence, meeting you here,” Emma commented with a smile.

“I’ll be sure to tell Mary Margaret I met the two of you. Now, what can I do for you today?”

Emma pulled her phone out of her purse, unlocked it, and tapped on the screen a few times. Then she laid it on the counter and turned it to show David. “I signed up for the Rent-a-Pet program. Here’s the email with my confirmation.”

David peered down at the screen and used his finger to scroll down a bit. “I see you chose Norman,” he commented, looking up at her.

“Um, yeah. Is he a good dog? I don’t want any messes in my house or car.”

“He’s a great dog,” he assured her, reaching back to the wall behind him to lift a leash off of a hook. “Gets along well with other dogs, seems to love kids, and is generally a very happy little guy.”

Henry bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. “Can we take him to the dog park? Ernie always loved going to the dog park.” His countenance dropped, a small cloud of sadness passing across his features.

David shared an understanding look with Emma. “Of course you can take him. I’m sure he will love it! Would you like to come back with me to get him?”

The boy turned to look at his mother. “Can I?”

“Sure, kid. I think I’ll come back, too, if Mr. Nolan doesn’t mind.”

“The more, the merrier,” David said cheerfully.

He waited until they joined him on the other side of the counter, then opened the door to the large room full of animal cages. Immediately, the sound of barking, howling and meows filled their ears.

“They get very excited when they know someone is coming back here. I think the animals closest to the door are spies and tell the others,” David joked, raising his voice to be heard over the din.

Emma walked behind Henry, watching him turn his head left and right to peer at the occupants of all of the pens.

“Aw, Mom, look at that little puppy! He’s so cute! Aw, that dog seems sad. I bet he doesn’t like being in a cage. Look Mom, they have cats here, too.” His litany was continuous as they slowly walked down the aisle between the enclosures.

Finally, David stopped in front of a pen and turned to them, gesturing toward the dog inside. “This is Norman. He has a sad story, but he’s kept his sweet temperament, haven’t you, boy?”

As if in answer, the black dog stood up, his tail starting to wag as he realized the man was talking about him. Henry dropped to his knees in front of the cage, placing his hands against the wire. “Hi, Norman! My name is Henry. Would you like to come home with us for a little while?” The dog’s tail was wagging so fast, his entire body wiggled. “I think he understands me, Mom!” Henry said excitedly.

As David slipped inside the pen to clip the leash to Norman’s collar, Emma asked, “Has he ever been rented before?”

“Several times,” David answered, straightening up once he had the leash attached. “He’s always done really well.” Opening the door of the kennel again, he allowed the dog to go ahead of him, out to where the boy still knelt.

“Hi, boy,” Henry crooned, running his hands over the dog’s head.

Emma bent down and stroked the sleek fur on Norman’s back and sides. “He’s so soft,” she commented.

“He appears to have the coat of a cocker spaniel,” David said, “but he’s definitely a mixed breed.” He watched the boy and dog interact for a few seconds before holding out the looped end of the leash. “Would you like to lead him out to the lobby, Henry?”

He looked up at Emma with hopeful eyes. “Is that okay, Mom?”

“How is he on a leash?” she asked David. “He won’t pull my kid’s arm out of the socket, will he?”

David laughed. “He does fairly well, but if he gets excited, he can get pretty rambunctious. He’ll be fine just going to the lobby, but you might have to walk him out to your car instead of Henry.”

“Sounds like a deal, kid,” she said, giving him a nod of approval.

Henry eagerly accepted the leash and started off down the aisle. “Come on, Norman. Come on, boy. You’re gonna like it at our house. We still have some of Ernie’s toys and balls.”

Emma and David trailed behind. “How long ago did you lose your dog?” he asked.

“Almost a month and Henry is really struggling with it. He and Ernie were best buds.”

“I’m sorry. That’s rough, especially for a kid.”

“And his mom,” Emma added. “I never realized how much I loved that dog, until he got sick and I knew we were going to lose him.”

“Hopefully, Norman will give you both a few hours of enjoyment and help ease the heartache a bit,” David said, before hurrying forward to pull the door open for Henry and the dog.

While David printed off the paperwork, Norman sniffed around Henry, who sat cross-legged on the floor, giggling when the dog licked his ears. “Ernie used to do that too, remember, Mom?”

Emma smiled down at him. “Yeah, you must have very tasty ears. Maybe you should start washing them better.”

“I won’t need to, after Norman washes them!”

She turned back to finish signing the papers. “It’s nice to hear him laughing again. He hasn’t done much of that lately,” she confided to David.

“I think this will be good for both of you and Norman. He really likes being around people. I’m very surprised he hasn’t been adopted yet.”

“Do you think there’s a reason for that?”

David shrugged. “This tends to be a slow time of the year for adoptions. Summer is over and school is back in session, so people don’t have as much time to welcome a new dog into their house.”

“That’s the boat we’re in right now,” Emma commented.

“Once it gets closer to Christmas, people will come in looking for pets to give as gifts. That’s good, but also bad, because about a quarter of them are brought back when they realize a pet is more work than they anticipated.”

“We got Ernie from the shelter when Henry was two. He was already five years old, house-trained and had all of the annoying puppy behaviors out of his system.”

“Most people want puppies instead of adult dogs, but there are a lot of advantages to getting an older dog.”

“Norman doesn’t seem to be very old.”

“I’d say at least two, but he’s pretty chill. Once he runs out of energy, he becomes a couch potato.” David collected the paperwork and tapped it on the counter to straighten it. “Well, that’s all I need from you. Norman is yours until three o’clock.”

“Yay!” Henry shouted, causing the dog to start barking.

Emma reached down to take the leash. “Don’t get him all riled up right before we put him in the car, kid.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Henry apologized. “I just can’t wait to get him home! Can he sit in the back with me?”

“Sure, but first you need to thank Mr. Nolan.”

Henry popped up from the floor and looked back at David. “Thanks, Mr. Nolan! I’ll take good care of Norman, I promise!”

“My pleasure, Henry. Have fun!” David grinned.

Mother and son exited the building, with Norman leading the way, tugging excitedly on the leash. “Slow down, pup,” Emma laughed.

Henry ran ahead to open the door of the yellow Volkswagen Beetle, sliding the front seat forward and clambering into the back. As soon as Norman reached the car, he hopped in and sat on the seat beside Henry like he’d done it every day of his life.

“Well, that was easy,” Emma commented, removing the loop of the leash from her wrist and tossing it beside the dog. After closing the door, she circled around behind the car to get into the driver’s seat. She looked into the rearview mirror and choked up at the sight meeting her eyes. Henry had his arms wrapped around Norman’s neck with his eyes closed and his head resting against the dog’s.

Emma was sure the time with Norman was going to be good for both boy and dog, but she couldn’t help but worry about what would happen when it came time to bring him back to the shelter.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma was barely able to get Henry to eat when they got home, and had to reprimand him for sneaking Norman bits of his sandwich. The dog, for his part, sat politely while they ate, not begging or whining. She was impressed with his behavior, remembering how she had to break Ernie from begging at the table when they first adopted him.

Henry and Norman bonded quickly as they chased each other around the small backyard, playing with a tennis ball and squeaky toys from Ernie’s toy basket. Emma sat on their small patio, thoroughly enjoying the sounds of happy barking and her son’s laughter. She pulled out her phone and took a picture, posting it to the Discord group and tagging Violet’s mom to thank her for the idea of renting a pet.

Just after two o’clock, Emma suggested taking Norman to the dog park before going back to the shelter. They played there for forty minutes, then the three of them returned home and piled back into the car. Once again, she caught sight in the mirror of her son hugging the dog and sighed, but instead of dreading Norman’s return, she decided to enjoy every minute of happiness it was bringing to Henry…and herself.

Their time with the dog was over all too soon. After Emma parked the car at the shelter, Henry got out of the car and trudged to the door with the leash gripped tightly in his hand. Norman seemed to sense the boy’s mood and walked slowly beside him, his head hanging low.

David was at the desk to greet them again, an understanding look at his face at the dejected look of all three of them. “Was he good for you?” he asked.

“He was great,” Emma answered, rubbing her hand soothingly over her son’s back. “Wasn’t he, kid?”

“Yeah,” Henry quietly agreed, his eyes trained on the floor.

“You know, you’re welcome to rent Norman, or any of our other dogs, anytime you want,” David said.

Henry looked up. “But what if someone adopts him?”

“Well, that would be a good thing for Norman,” Emma reminded him.

“I guess,” Henry sighed. He knelt down beside the dog, wrapping him up in another hug. “I’ll miss you, boy, but maybe I’ll see you again.” The dog licked his cheek, eliciting a small giggle. Then Henry stood and held the leash out to David. “Thank you, Mr. Nolan. I had a lot of fun with Norman.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” David said, accepting the leash and moving around the counter. Patting the dog on the head, he added, “I hope we’ll see you again, soon.”

Henry turned pleading eyes to his mother. “Can we do it again next weekend, Mom?”

“You have Avery’s birthday party next Saturday, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Henry nodded, then bit his lip in contemplation. “The next weekend, then?”

Emma laughed. “We’ll see.” She leaned down to pet the dog’s head. “Be a good boy, Norman. You’re welcome at our house anytime.”

After saying their goodbyes, they watched David take the dog toward the door leading to the back. Norman turned and gave them a sad look before following the shelter worker through it, tearing at Emma’s heart even more.

She swallowed hard and said, “Come on, kid. Let’s go home.”

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

The sadness soon wore off and for the next several days, Henry talked almost incessantly about all of the fun he had with Norman. Emma checked their schedule and saw that Henry had another early game three weeks later, which would be the last game of the soccer season. She relayed that news to Henry, asking him if he wanted to rent Norman again that day, and was answered with a very enthusiastic ‘YES!’

She nearly forgot to make the reservation, only remembering three days before, while waiting to pick Henry up from practice. Quickly, she pulled up the website and filled out the form, glancing up often to see if Henry was coming off the field because she always liked to meet him as soon as he did, instead of waiting for him in the car.

Emma was especially glad they decided to rent Norman Saturday, since Henry’s soccer team lost their final game by one goal. His downcast look was soon replaced with excitement when she reminded him that they would be going to the shelter.

When they arrived, he bounded out of the car and waited impatiently for his mom to join him, before practically sprinting to the door. It took a couple of minutes before David emerged from the back, beaming a smile when he saw them waiting at the counter.

“Henry! Emma! I’m very happy to see you again!”

“We’re here to get Norman,” Henry said excitedly.

A puzzled look crossed David’s face. “I’m sorry, but Norman is already being rented by somebody else today,” he informed them.

“What?” Henry asked, a slight tremor in his voice. Then he turned to Emma. “But Mom, you said we would be getting Norman.”

Emma was already pulling the email up on her phone. “There must be some mistake, Mr. Nolan. I reserved Norman when I filled out the form. See?”

She turned her phone for the worker to see it. David looked at it carefully, then pointed to the screen. “It looks like you didn’t ask for a specific dog.”

“I didn’t?” she questioned, then looked at her phone more closely, her heart dropping when she saw the blank space beside the ‘requested animal’ inquiry. “Oh, Henry. I’m so sorry. I was in a hurry when I filled it out and I must have missed that question.”

“We have several other dogs,” David consoled. “I’m sure you’ll have just as much fun with one of them.”

“No I won’t,” Henry pouted. “I only want Norman.”

“Henry…” Emma started, but was interrupted when the door behind her opened.

“Good morning, Dave,” said a deep voice with a distinctive British accent.

Emma turned to see the newcomer and nearly swallowed her tongue. The man standing before her had to be a mirage, because surely someone that handsome didn’t really exist. He had a lean physique clad in dark jeans and a maroon henley, with a tantalizing view of chest hair peeking out of the unbuttoned neckline. A black leather jacket completed his ensemble. His chiseled jawline was covered with a pleasing amount of scruff and his dark, windblown hair was falling over his forehead. He sported a wide grin and, between that and his deep blue eyes, Emma was mesmerized.

She was suddenly very aware of her own appearance. Henry’s early game meant she had thrown on a pair of sweatpants, donned an old hoodie and stuffed a beanie over her barely brushed hair that morning. Her face was free of makeup, unless you counted a few stray flecks of mascara that stubbornly refused to come off when she washed her face the previous evening.

“Hey, Killian,” David greeted.

The man’s - Killian’s - eyes had settled on Emma, a glint of curiosity evident in them.

“Oh, um, come on Henry,” she said, after several moments of silence. “Let’s get out of this man’s way.”

“But Mommmm…” he whined.

Emma put her hand on his shoulder and guided him away from the counter. “We’ll figure something out, kid.”

“I’m in no hurry, Miss,” Killian began.

“No, it’s okay,” she hurried to assure him. “I’m afraid I created a problem that might take a while to straighten out, so please, go ahead.”

“In that case, thank you very much,” he smiled. Turning his eyes to David, he asked, “Is Winston ready?”

Emma was surprised to see the genial shelter worker furrow his brow at the other man. “Why do you insist on calling him that?”

Killian shrugged. “He looks like a Winston to me, and he answers to that name when he’s at my house.”

David glanced at Emma and Henry and opened his mouth to say something, but apparently changed his mind. Grabbing a leash off of a hook, he said, “Give me a minute,” then he pushed the door open and disappeared into the back.

“Are you adopting a dog today?” Henry asked Killian.

“Alas, no. I just moved into a small apartment here three months ago and am still trying to get everything organized and put away. Being in a new town has been a bit lonely at times, so I’ve been coming here now and then to borrow a dog for a few hours.”

“That’s why we’re here, but somebody is taking the dog I want,” Henry grumbled.

“Henry, that’s enough,” Emma reprimanded. “You haven’t even looked at any of the other dogs.”

“None of them will be as good as Norman.”

Killian’s brows raised. “Did you say Nor-”

Just then, the door behind the counter opened and David came through, trying to control a very excited dog.

“Norman!” Henry cheered, dropping to his knees. The dog started jumping toward him, wildly licking his face as soon as he reached the boy.

“I thought you said he was already rented today,” Emma questioned David.

“He is,” he replied, looking pointedly at Killian.

Emma followed his gaze and saw the other man watching the interaction between Henry and the dog with a sheepish look on his face. The pieces began to click together and she asked, “Wait a minute - is Norman the dog you’re renting today?”

“Aye,” Killian confirmed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Looks like we’re here for the same dog.”

“But you called him by another name,” Emma continued.

“He’s the dog I’ve rented every time and he just doesn’t seem like a Norman to me, so I started calling him Winston,” Killian explained.

All three adults stood looking at the whirlwind of fur jumping all over Henry, who was giggling so much, he could hardly catch his breath.

Finally, Killian spoke. “It seems as though Win-, I mean, Norman, has made his choice. Please let Henry and…his mother have the dog today, Dave.”

“Emma,” she informed him. “My name is Emma Swan, and you don’t have to do that. You had him reserved first. Besides, Henry needs to learn he can’t always have his way.”

“I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my time with the dog, knowing how sad it would make Henry,” Killian responded. He took a step forward and offered Emma his hand to shake. “I’m Killian Jones, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emma.”

As they shook hands, David cleared his throat. “Um, I have an idea of how to work this out. It’s a nice day, so why don’t all of you take Norman to the dog park together?”

Emma and Killian both whipped their heads around to stare at him. He seemed to shrink back a bit before stammering, “I mean, that way you could all spend time with him and get to know each other at the same time. You’ve been saying you’d like to meet more people in Storybrooke, Killian, and that’s where Henry and Emma live.” Looking at Emma, he added, “I’ve gotten to know Killian pretty well because he sings in the church choir with me and Mary Margaret. He’s a good guy.”

Emma slowly turned her eyes back to the very handsome man whose hand she suddenly realized she was still holding. She dropped it quickly, as she felt a blush heating her cheeks. Then she looked at Henry, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Norman sprawled across his lap. He was looking up at her with hope in his eyes.

Meeting Killian’s gaze once again, she asked, “What do you think?”

“I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position, Emma.”

“You wouldn’t have to go all the way back into Storybrooke,” David said. “There’s a small dog park at the end of the walking path, where a lot of people take dogs they’re thinking of adopting.”

“Please, Mom?” Henry pleaded. “Norman would like that, wouldn’t you, boy?”

Emma took a look at the pair and groaned, “It’s bad enough when you use the puppy dog eyes on me, kid. Now you’ve got the dog doing it, too.”

Killian chuckled lowly, the sound of it making Emma’s stomach flip in a very pleasant way. “I would hate to disappoint the two of them, so I’m game if you are, lass.”

Emma chewed her lip in contemplation for a few seconds, before saying, “Okay, but on one condition - you let me pay half of the rental fee.”

“I already paid the fee online,” Killian said.

“So did I, so I guess that takes care of that.”

“Not really,” David said. “You both paid, but you’re only renting one dog. I should reimburse each of you half of the fee.”

“Keep it,” Emma and Killian answered at the same time, then both laughed.

“The shelter can always use a little extra money, can’t it, Mr. Nolan?” Emma asked.

“Please call me David. And of course we can, if you’re both sure you don’t mind.”

As soon as they affirmed their answer, David walked around the counter and picked up the end of the leash. Handing it to Emma, he said, “In that case, Norman-slash-Winston is yours for the next four hours. You can bring him back sooner, if you like, but I’m sure he’s going to love getting out for a while. Oh, and if you get hungry, there’s usually a couple of food trucks near the dog park on Saturdays. Have fun!”

Emma and Killian thanked him, then went out the door with Norman straining at the leash, and Henry skipping along beside him. They quickly found the sign marking the path and started walking it.

After several paces, Killian turned to Emma and asked, “Is it me, or do you feel like David just set us up?”

“One hundred percent,” Emma laughed.

“How long have you known him?”

“David?” she questioned. At his hum of affirmation, she said, “Henry and I rented Norman three weeks ago and that was the first time I met him. David, I mean, not Norman. Well, it was the first time we met Norman, too. His wife is Henry’s teacher. Again, I mean she’s David’s wife, not Norman’s.” She knew she was rambling, but the thought of spending several hours with the gorgeous stranger was making her nervous.

Killian laughed. “That’s a relief. I borrowed Win-, uh, Norman three times and he never once mentioned being married.”

It was Emma’s turn to laugh - mostly because what he said was funny, but also in relief that he responded to her embarrassing prattling with humor, instead of judgment.

“So, if Dave just met you, he probably doesn’t even know if you’re married or dating anyone. That was a little presumptuous of him.”

“Are you fishing for information, Mr. Jones?” Emma teased.

“Killian will do,” he grinned. “And…perhaps?”

Before she could answer, Henry ran back to join them. “Can I take Norman, Mom? He’s walking really well on the leash, so I don’t think he’ll yank my arm out of the socket.”

She looked at Killian, who raised an eyebrow with a bemused look on his face.

“That’s something I said when we picked Norman up the last time,” she explained. Handing the loop of the leash to Henry, she said, “Don’t get too far ahead of us, kid.”

“We won’t,” he tossed over his shoulder.

Emma turned her attention back to the man beside her. “To answer your non-question Killian, no, I am not married or dating anyone. It’s just Henry and me, and always has been. When I told his father I thought I might be pregnant, he didn’t even stick around long enough to find out if I was or not.”

Killian absorbed this news for a few moments before responding, “If you don’t mind me saying, it sounds as if the two of you might be better off without someone like that, anyway.”

“Oh, definitely. Henry is more mature at eight than his sperm donor was as an adult. I was young and foolish, but I had to grow up fast once I became a single mother.” She watched her son trying to get Norman to walk beside him, then turned to look at Killian. “Sorry, that is a lot more information than I’m sure you wanted to know.”

“No need to apologize, Emma. I did ask, in a roundabout way.”

“So what’s your story? Did you move here from England, or am I misreading your accent?”

“You got it right,” he chuckled, then took a deep breath. “There was nothing left for me in England. My brother moved here soon after our mother died two years ago, and once I found out my girlfriend was actually a married woman, I needed a fresh start.”

“Ouch,” Emma commented.

“Aye, and now I’ve probably shared more than you wanted to know.”

“We’ll call it even, and promise to talk about much lighter subjects for the rest of the day,” Emma said.

“Deal.”

“You said your brother moved here. Does that mean he lives in Storybrooke?”

“Aye, he followed his heart and it led him straight to this quaint little town.”

“Who does he date, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“He’s engaged to the town librarian, Belle French.”

“Liam is your brother? I guess I should have figured that out since your last name is Jones.”

“It’s a very common name, lass. Yes, Liam is my brother. I gather you know him?”

“Belle is one of my best friends, so I know him through her. She used to babysit for Henry quite often, when I was a waitress at Granny’s.”

“Ah, the famous Granny’s Diner!” Killian exclaimed. “I visit that establishment frequently. She makes the best lasagna.”

“I think you meant to say the best grilled cheese and onion rings,” Emma grinned mischieviously.

“I’ve yet to try those particular delicacies,” he smirked.

“Try them,” she advised. “I guarantee you’ll love them.”

Looking ahead, they saw they were nearing the dog park and picked up their pace. They caught up with Henry and Norman just before reaching the entrance. There were about a half-dozen dogs running around the park, some loose and others on leashes.

“I think it would be a good idea for Mr. Jones to take Norman before we go in,” Emma told Henry. “He’ll be able to control him better if he gets too excited.”

“Okay,” Henry said, willingly handing over the leash.

“Thanks, lad,” Killian smiled.

Henry went through the first gate, holding it open for his mom, followed by Killian and Norman. When they were all in the buffer zone, Henry opened the next gate leading into the main part of the park.

“You’re raising quite the gentleman, Emma,” Killian commented, after he entered with the dog.

“He has his moments.”

They all watched Norman as he began sniffing around excitedly, then pulling on the leash when he noticed the other canines sharing his space. He nearly yanked Killian off of his feet with his enthusiasm to meet new friends.

The next twenty minutes were spent chasing the dog and trying to settle him down. After a few of the other owners left with their animals, Henry found a tennis ball and engaged Norman in a game of fetch. The adults sat on a bench to observe the pair, laughing at the clumsiness of the dog.

Emma noticed Killian rubbing his shoulder. “Alright there, Jones?”

“I think he might have pulled my arm out of the socket, Swan,” he quipped.

“Very funny, smart guy,” she said, making him laugh again. They watched for a few more minutes before Emma asked, “Do you have a job in Storybrooke? I started working at the sheriff’s station three months ago and I don’t remember seeing you around town.”

“I’m an architect. I was able to keep my job with the firm in England by working online and attending meetings with clients and my colleagues via Zoom. All of my time is spent in my office at home. It’s not ideal, but I appreciate my boss being willing to make concessions for me.”

“Do you plan to get a job here eventually?”

“Aye, if I decide to stay.”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“I’m used to the hustle and bustle of a big city. Living in Storybrooke has been quite an adjustment.”

“I get that. We moved here from Boston when Henry was two. Granny’s granddaughter, Ruby, was our neighbor there, and when she decided to move back, she talked me into coming with her. At first, I had a hard time getting used to the peace and quiet. That was one reason why I adopted Ernie - just to have a little more noise in the house.”

“Ernie?” Killian questioned.

“Oh, he was our dog. We had him for six years, but he died a couple of months ago.” She pulled her phone out of the pouch of her hoodie and swiped to reveal her lock screen. “This is a picture of Henry with him.”

“Beautiful animal,” Killian commented sincerely, taking in the photo of the brown and white spaniel. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks,” Emma sighed, locking her phone and returning it to the pocket. “Henry grew up with him and he’s had a really hard time with it. Someone suggested renting a pet from the shelter to help him work through it, and that’s how we ended up renting Norman.”

“They seem to really like each other.”

“Yeah, they got along great the first time. That’s why I signed up to get him again, but I was in a hurry when I filled out the form and forgot to ask for a specific dog.”

“Ah, that explains the mix-up,” Killian remarked.

Another half hour passed while they chatted easily, until Henry came over and flopped down on the ground, quickly joined by Norman. “I’m hungry, Mom. Can we get something to eat?”

“Sure, kid. Put Norman back on his leash and we’ll go find those food trucks Mr. Nolan mentioned.”

They soon located the food trucks just down the sidewalk from the park. After discussing their options, they decided to get pulled pork sandwiches from the barbeque place. It was obvious that people who took their pets to the dog park frequented the food trucks, because each one had bowls of water set out in front of them and containers of dog biscuits on their condiment tables.

While they waited for their food, Henry tried to teach Norman to sit, rewarding him with pieces of the biscuits when he obeyed.

“He’s very good with him,” Killian noted.

“He prays for another dog every night, but our schedule is so busy right now. Plus, it’s such a big responsibility and I’m not sure Henry is ready for it. I might be wrong about that though, seeing how he is with Norman.”

After eating, they followed the sidewalk a little further and spotted a playground. Emma and Killian sat on a bench, with Norman sitting between them as they watched Henry play on the equipment.

“You know, we’ve lived in Storybrooke for six years and I never knew this playground existed,” Emma commented. “We don’t come this way very often, because whenever we go out of town, we take the road going south.”

“It appears to be fairly new,” Killian observed. “Perhaps they constructed it when they built those apartments over there, because they don’t look like they’ve been there very long.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. I remember when they were being constructed a couple of years after we moved here, which means they’re less than five years old.”

They lost sight of Henry for a few seconds when he climbed a ladder up into a tower. Suddenly they heard him shout, “Hey, Mom! Look what I found!” and saw him coming down a twisting slide with his arms over his head, clutching a tattered looking soccer ball.

He landed at the bottom and came running over to them. “Someone must have forgotten this at the top of the tower. Wanna kick it around with me?”

“Sure, kid,” Emma answered, hopping up from the bench. “It looks a bit deflated. Are you sure it’s even going to roll?”

“It’ll be fine,” he assured her. Placing it on the ground, he gave it a kick and watched it roll across the grass. “See?”

A black streak flew past him, with Killian following close behind shouting, “Wins-, I mean, Norman! Come back here!”

The dog ignored him, but stopped when he got to the soccer ball. He was trying to pick it up in his mouth when the three humans reached him. Killian was able to kick it away from him, directly to Emma, who stopped it with her foot, then booted it over to Henry. Norman ran from one to the other, in hot pursuit of the elusive ball.

The ‘keep away’ game kept them entertained for a long time. They ran, shouting instructions to each other and laughing until all of them were completely out of breath. Norman was able to intercept some of their passes, but they always managed to get it away from him before he was able to pick it up and run off.

Finally, Emma declared that she had to take a break. Picking up Norman’s leash, she said, “I think we should take him back to the food trucks to get a drink and buy a couple of bottles of water.”

“Aww, Mom,” Henry complained. “I’m not ready to go yet. Can’t I stay here? Killian will stay with me, won’t you, Killian?”

“First of all, you should call him Mr. Jones, and secondly, you’re putting him on the spot, which isn’t cool,” Emma admonished.

Henry looked appropriately chagrined. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jones.”

“Thank you, Henry, but if I may be so bold, I don’t mind you calling me Killian. That is, if it’s okay with your mother.”

Henry looked to his mom, who considered for a few seconds, then gave him a nod of approval.

Killian put his arm across Henry’s shoulders and walked him the short distance to where Emma was standing. “I’d be happy to go get the water, Emma.” He took the end of Norman’s leash from her. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

While he was gone, Emma sat on the bench watching Henry continue to kick the soccer ball around. Killian and Norman returned a few minutes later, handed her a bottle of water and sat down beside her.

“Do I owe you anything for this?” Emma asked, unscrewing the lid.

“Not at all. I think I can afford to buy a lovely lass a bottle of water.”

She refrained from rolling her eyes at his use of the adjective, still rueing the fact she met such a handsome man while looking like she just rolled out of bed. As she was getting ready to take a drink, Henry kicked the ball and sent it sailing over their head, causing Emma to duck and spill some of the water in her lap.

Henry ran over, stopping in front of her. “Oops. Sorry, Mom. I was trying to kick it at the teeter-totter.”

Emma brushed at the water droplets, looking around to locate the teeter-totter, which was at least twenty feet away from the bench. “Not even close, kid.”

Killian stood up. “Perhaps I could give you some pointers, lad. I was a rather good football player when I was younger .”

Henry’s forehead creased in confusion. “I play soccer, not football.”

Killian chuckled as Emma explained, “Killian grew up in England and over there, soccer is called football. They call what we play ‘American football’, don’t they, Killian?”

“Aye, lass. Sorry to confuse you, Henry.”

“Oh, I never knew that. So, how good were you?”

Killian rubbed a finger behind his ear, ducking his head a bit. “I played in a semi-professional league for a couple of years and actually tried out for a professional club, before I decided to go to Uni and become an architect instead.”

“Wow! Cool!” Henry exclaimed. “You probably know even more about soccer than my coach!”

Emma laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he knows a bit more than a volunteer coach for a youth league team.” She took the dog’s leash back from Killian. “Norman and I will sit this lesson out.”

Killian attempted to wink at her. “As you wish, Milady. Come on, lad. We’ve got work to do.”

She smiled fondly, watching the two of them passing the ball back and forth for a while, before pulling out her phone to catch up on her social media apps.

When she looked up a few minutes later, she saw Killian giving Henry instructions for controlling the ball as he dribbled it down the field. Apparently, they were using two trees as the goal and Henry was moving toward them quickly, while trying rather unsuccessfully to keep the ball under control. When he kicked it from quite a distance away, the ball hit one of the trees and ricocheted away.

Killian went to retrieve the ball and took it back to where Henry was waiting. He squatted down in front of the boy and began talking to him, gesturing now and then to different parts of the field.

Henry listened intently, nodding once in a while. When Killian finished speaking, he stood up and did a short demonstration of how to move the ball back and forth from foot to foot. Then he patted the boy’s shoulder, walked the ball further away from the trees and set it down.

Henry lined himself up behind the ball and looked up at Killian. After getting a reassuring smile from him, Henry started dribbling the ball across the ground with shorter, more controlled kicks, while Killian jogged beside him, shouting encouragement. This time, he got the ball much closer to the trees, before giving it a powerful kick that sent it shooting right between them.

Killian whooped as Henry raised his arms in victory, giving a triumphant cheer. What Emma saw happen next put a lump in her throat. Henry flung his arms around Killian’s waist, hugging him tightly, and Killian returned the hug, rubbing his hand over her son’s head as he looked down at him with a proud smile on his face.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

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