#whatever. still one of my favorite episodes for reasons obvious (gestures vaguely
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
lavendorii · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
at any given moment i am thinking about the call of dagomon episode
65 notes · View notes
ladyfawkes · 5 years ago
Text
A Eugene and Dark Queen Reunion - Eugene Appreciation Week | Day 3 - Angst
Meanwhile, back in Gothel’s tower..... Rapunzel was desperately trying the healing incantation even though her magical hair was now gone. But Eugene couldn’t allow her the chance. Already too much had been taken from Rapunzel during her life and he wasn’t going to take any more from her. Not even to save himself….especially not to save himself. Eugene summoned his last tiny bit of strength with Herculean effort. “Rapunzel,” he insisted, pulling her face to him. He had to tell her. “What?” she whispered at last. The effort cost him dearly, left him gasping. “You were my new dream,” he breathed, as Rapunzel laughed through her tears with bittersweet joy. Whatever the price, it was worth it to Eugene just so he could hear the sound along with her next words. “And you were mine,” she replied with loving sorrow, fervently wishing she could just hold Eugene here in this moment with her forever. At least…..at least she could put a smile on his face before he slipped away for good. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Eugene was swiftly awoken and bidden to stand by a mysterious brunette with long flowing hair. She quietly stood next to him, dressed in an elegant white gown, and looked up at him serenely. He briefly wondered if she were an angel before reminding himself he didn’t believe in such nonsense.
He couldn't really pay much attention to her at first....as upon standing, he had turned around and was jolted by what he saw. Eugene’s gaze was instantly glued to the scene playing out before him. It turned out he was still in the tower. Rapunzel, now clearly resigned, despondently finished the healing chant he had so stoutly refused her and wept openly over his dead body.
"Oh no....." Eugene fell to his incorporeal knees in anguish. “No!” Eugene had thought dying would be the saddest thing to happen to him. Yet he’d been sorely mistaken. "Rapunzel, I...."
"She can't hear you, son," the brunette said softly. She came up behind him and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I can promise you, however, she will not be sad for much longer." At the moment, Eugene felt anything but reassured.
"Who....who are you?" demanded Eugene of this...this interloper, in spite of himself. For the moment, he just wished to be alone with Rapunzel and their shared grief. The mystery woman seemed to have sensed Eugene’s reluctance to her presence and carefully moved away a few paces. She now stood opposite him on the other side of Rapunzel as she cradled Eugene's body.
"Well, I did call you 'son' for a reason, you know," said the woman, with an impish twinkle in her eye.  "Wuh--" Eugene nearly choked on his own tongue as he stood up in a rush, trying to get the words out, finally settling upon, "--Mother?" He gaped at her, openly searching for any signs of his own features within hers.
"That is one of my many titles, yes," replied the regal lady, smiling enigmatically in front of him, “and my personal favorite.” All at once he noticed she was wearing a black tiara with purple jewels. It seemed all the more stark against her crisp white dress. Eugene’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Alas, there is no time to discuss them all, though. You need to go very soon."
"What?" Eugene protested. "Go? But didn't I just get here? Wherever here is? How can it be that I already have to leave again?" "Observe," said his mother, gesturing to his prone self on the floor. A tiny starburst of golden sparks showered his cheek where Rapunzel's solitary tear had fallen, only to travel further down toward the mortal wound in Eugene's side. As they watched, the garish gash began mending itself closed amidst a thunderclap of bright spiraling magical tendrils that grew to encompass the entire tower. "What is happening?" Eugene cried over the thunderous roar of healing magic, shielding his vision against its brightness. "I should think that much would be obvious," his mother replied with what was now characteristic vagueness, once again wearing her Mona Lisa smile. Eugene groaned in exasperation and he found himself getting mildly annoyed with her cryptic amusement. It even reminded the young man a little bit of....himself. So that's where I get it! he marveled as realization dawned. "This time, the Sun Drop chose you, Eugene," his mother was looking him right in the eye now. "Chose me?" Eugene echoed skeptically, his eyebrows knitting together. "Why ever would it choose me? It's Rapunzel who's into this whole 'destiny' business." His mother laughed throatily and it mesmerized him; he was completely enchanted by the sight and sound. "Come here, Gene." He was utterly taken by her use of his diminutive name as he walked around to meet her. He almost couldn't ask. It seemed too surreal. An orphan wouldn't dare to hope....but he gestured to her tiara. "Are you...." She slipped an arm sideways around his waist, pulling her to him. He couldn’t help but notice how tall she was as she replied, "Yes, I was royalty when I was alive, which means you have royal blood too. And as long as you keep putting your faith in and keep choosing this young woman, you will find all of the answers you've sought about your family -- past, present, and future. And sooner rather than much later. However, I fear right now it’s time we take our leave of one another." "Now?? But--but I have so many questions!" Eugene pleaded. His mother put a quieting finger to his lips and patiently said, "In due time, dear son of mine. The only thing I want you to have on your mind during this present time is you….and her.” She reached up and lightly tapped his forehead three times and bade him into her loving embrace. Still somewhat unsure of her, he accepted, eventually melting into her arms as she stroked the back of his hair. She hummed an old German lullaby, the same way a young mother would soothe her small child. Hot tears sprang to Eugene’s eyes, completely unbidden. Just how could this song sound so familiar?? his mind cast-about wildly. He was both amazed and bewildered, yet he felt far too overwhelmed to speak.
Eugene felt himself fade out into soft white nothingness while in his mother's warm embrace. Then before he knew it, Eugene’s eyes were fluttering open again, as if he'd briefly fallen asleep and taken an unintentional nap somewhere. Immediately, his mind filled with thoughts of….
"Rapunzel?" he said breathlessly. Back! He really was back within his own body! Mentally, Eugene checked himself over.....he could breathe easily again. No more aching stab wound in his side. He remembered passing out…. Somehow Rapunzel had actually done it!! “Eugene??” gasped Rapunzel hopefully above him. Her hands reflexively held him closer. The way she whispered his name sounded like a little prayer. His eyesight was gradually returning, as he blinked and saw the blurry figure above him coalesce into his newest dream.
"Have I ever told you that I've got a thing for brunettes?" he kidded breathlessly, to let his love know that he was indeed all there for real.
"EUGENE!!" cried Rapunzel in exultation, throwing her arms so joyously about his neck that she nearly pulled him back to the floor with her. He caught her in a one-armed embrace, holding her as tightly to him as he dared. Never before had such a remarkable woman loved him so fiercely. Eugene had scarcely dreamt it was possible. A lilting voice filled his mind, But if something's not impossible, it's not worth doing... he dismissed it as his own fleeting thoughts playing tricks on him....until the same lilting voice confirmed outright his next thoughts: Yes, you really are just that lucky to have Rapunzel. And yes -- you will remember our little meeting here when the time is right.
Then Rapunzel grasped the sides of Eugene’s doublet in both of her fists and literally took his breath away with the ferocity of their first kiss. Eugene enthusiastically responded in kind. And although Eugene never completely forgot his memories of the very brief encounter with his mother, in light of recent pressing events, those memories completely faded to the back of Eugene’s mind as if it were a dream. For the greater part of two years, he was pretty certain he had hallucinated them anyway. That is, until this very moment.....
Tumblr media
When after he sees this portrait....
Tumblr media
And a light of familiarity appears to dawn in his eyes.
Tumblr media
It has always been my theory (well, I s’pose it’s wish fulfillment now -- since all the series episodes have been broadcast) that even all of Eugene’s old wanted posters wouldn’t have been enough to convince him to turn away from Rapunzel. It had to be something more....something huge. If Eugene had a visual confirmation of who his mother is prior to seeing this portrait because he’d recently already seen her during the 1-minute-40-second interval that he was dead in the tower.....then I postulate that this is why Eugene was convinced to go against Rapunzel, if even for a few hours.
146 notes · View notes
unfolded73 · 7 years ago
Text
Piratey Heart-to-Hearts (1/1)
Inspired by Regina’s line in 7x02: “Go give him one of your piratey heart-to-hearts; make him feel better” and thinking about how she came to rely on Killian to fill that role. (A few story elements are from S7, but this fic is set before the events of S7.)
Captain Cobra, plus a lot of Killian&Emma&Regina coparenting and being bros. Rated Teen. ~3600 words.
Thanks to @j-philly-b for betaing and for pushing me to keep hammering at this. If it got fluffy, it’s really your fault.
Regina scowled at him from the doorway, running a hand through her unusually-unkempt hair. “What is it?”
Killian raised an eyebrow at her tone. He may not be her favorite person in Storybrooke, but they had been getting along fine recently. One might even have called them friends. He couldn’t imagine what he had done to raise her ire.
“Emma told me Henry lost his driving privileges for a week. I was leaving the station and thought I’d stop by and give him a ride so he wouldn’t have to trudge over to our place through the snow,” Killian explained, pointing at the sky. Fat, wet flakes were falling at an increasing frequency, and the forecast indicated there would be six inches on the ground by morning. Killian was already thinking ahead to the fact that tomorrow was Sunday, and he and Emma could perhaps linger in bed awhile as the outside world was blanketed in white. As he drove over to Regina’s, at least half of his mind had been occupied with thoughts of mugs of coffee and a pile of blankets and the warm touch of his wife’s skin.
“Oh,” Regina said, finally standing aside so that he could come out of the cold and into her foyer. “Well, if you can get him out of his room, you’re welcome to him. He’s absolutely furious with me.”
Killian could sympathize with Regina’s situation. He’d been in the doghouse with Henry a few times when he’d been the adult to enforce a punishment. Killian’s position as a parent who disciplined Henry had never quite sat easily with either of them; he might be Henry’s father in every practical sense, but Killian still sometimes felt like he was treading on thin ice.
“May I?” Killian said, gesturing to the stairs.
“Be my guest,” she said, mirroring his hand gesture. “I’m gonna go make myself a drink.”
Killian mounted the grand staircase two steps at a time and headed down the hall to Henry’s room. He tapped on the door with his hook.
“Henry?”
There was a muffled noise that sounded vaguely like ‘come in,’ so Killian opened the door. Henry was lying on his bed, his back turned away from the doorway.
“I thought you might want a ride, so I came by,” Killian said, not addressing the reason Henry might need a ride — that he wasn’t allowed to drive his own car.
“Oh, didn’t you hear? I’m a baby who has to stay where my mommy tells me,” he said, his voice positively dripping with sarcasm.
Killian felt a surge of indignation on Regina’s behalf. If he’d been the one waiting up for Henry to drag himself home at 2:30 in the morning, the boy would have been lucky to get off with only a week without a car. “What I heard was that you missed your curfew by quite a large margin last night.”
The boy’s eye roll was almost audible in the quiet room. “Whatever,” he muttered.
“So you’re saying that if you had a seventeen-year-old son, you’d let him stay out until all hours of the morning? No curfew, no rules, just anything he wanted to do would be fine?”
“No, it’s just… I don’t know.” Henry sat up, looking thunderous. “It’s like I can’t make any mistakes.”
“Of course you can make mistakes, but that doesn’t mean your mistakes won’t have consequences,” Killian said, keeping his voice very even. “Not life-altering consequences, fortunately. Temporary consequences, because when we have rules for you, we expect you to follow them.”
Henry huffed. “So you don’t want to hear my side of it either?”
Killian sat down at the foot of the bed, his gaze drifting toward the window and the snow falling outside. Emma was probably at home right now, wet boots kicked off near the door, her hair pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head as she prepared dinner for the three of them. He wanted to get home before the roads got any more hazardous. He wanted to be in that warm kitchen, kissing his wife on the back of her neck, not sitting here in Regina’s house with a sullen teenage boy.
“Of course, let me hear your side of it,” Killian said patiently.
“I was at a party at Charlie’s—”
“I don’t like that boy, Henry—”
“I know you don’t and neither do I, but here’s the thing. I knew Elena was going, and that she’d just broken up with Lisa and was feeling really vulnerable and reckless. So I was worried about her being at that party because I figured she’d probably get wasted.”
Killian frowned, trying to remember who these people were. “Which one is Elena again? Wait, hang on. There was drinking at this party?”
Henry huffed in frustration. “Yeah, of course there was drinking. And you know Elena. She’s the one who was my physics lab partner last semester.”
“And you like this girl?” Killian asked, feeling several steps behind in the conversation.
This got him another eye roll. “No, she’s just a friend, and also she’s gay. Of course, that hasn’t stopped Charlie from saying she just needs…” Henry flushed. “I won’t repeat what he said.”
“I can imagine,” Killian muttered, his opinion of Charlie dropping another few notches.
“He’s an asshole,” Henry said.
“If he’s such an asshole, why was Elena of all people going to his party?”
“I know, that’s what I said. But she was looking for an escape from feeling heartbroken, and like, everyone was going and Elena said she didn’t want people thinking she was too afraid to show her face after the breakup. So she went. And I went with her as moral support, and to make sure she was going to be okay.”
Suddenly Killian understood. “You were afraid for her safety if she passed out drunk.”
“Yeah. And she did get completely shit-faced, as predicted, and by the time I was able to convince her to leave and got her into my car, and then had to pull over twice for her to throw up by the side of the road, and then helped her sneak in through her bedroom window — which thankfully was on the first floor — and got her into bed, and then got home, it was really late.”
Killian ran his hand over his face and sighed. “You could have called me for help, you know.”
“Yeah, because when your mom and stepdad are the sheriff and sheriff’s deputy, the absolute best thing for your reputation is to call them to come bust up a party where kids are drinking and smoking dope.”
“There was marijuana too?”
“Yes, God, but that’s not the point,” Henry said, falling backward onto his pillow with his hands over his face.
“Did you have anything to drink? Or smoke anything?” Killian asked, fearing the answer.
Henry looked at him, hurt obvious in his eyes. “No. I was driving.”
“I’m sorry, lad. I know you know better, but I had to ask.”
“No, you didn’t.”
Killian put his hand on Henry’s ankle. “What you did was very noble, Henry. I’ve seen what men can do to women who aren’t in control of their faculties. You know, if anything like that has happened before, if anyone at that school has been sexually assaulted… I hope they know that there couldn’t be a better person to report it to than Storybrooke’s sheriff.”
“Ugh, Killian, don’t turn this into some kind of Very Special Episode, please.”
He wrinkled his brow in confusion. “I don’t know what that means.”
“Never mind,” Henry said with a sigh.
“Elena is lucky to have you as a friend, truly.”
“Yeah, I got myself grounded for her,” Henry grumbled.
“Well, perhaps next time you’ll realize that I can probably think of a way to help you that won’t ruin your reputation. There’s got to be some compromise between you being out until after two in the morning with no word to any of your parents, and Emma and I coming in with sirens blaring and arresting all of your friends.”
“Okay, I guess.”
“You’ll call one of us next time?”
“Yeah.”
“Excellent.” Killian slapped his knee and stood up. “Now let’s get home before the snow gets any thicker.”
Henry grabbed his backpack and trotted down the stairs. As Killian watched, Henry went over to where Regina was curled up on the sofa and gave her an awkward half-hug. “Sorry,” he said.
She blinked at him, surprised. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”
“I’ll see you in a few days,” Henry said.
“Here,” Killian said, tossing Henry his car keys. “Crank the engine and warm up the car. I’ll be there in a minute.”
As soon as Henry had exited, Regina turned her surprise on Killian. “What did you do?”
Killian shrugged. “I listened.”
She visibly bristled. “I listen. I just wasn’t ready to hear his excuses when I’d spent hours wondering if he was dead in a ditch. I was this close to casting a locator spell about a hundred times, but I know how much he hates that.”
“Look,” Killian demurred, “it’s easy to be the adult who comes along after the dust has settled and acts like the reasonable one. Don’t worry about it.”
She snorted in agreement. “Still, I hate that you’re so good at that. You sit him down for a heart-to-heart, and five minutes later you’ve solved all his problems.”
Killian chuckled. “Hardly. He’s a good lad, and his heart is in the right place. He made an error in judgment, but it was in service of a greater good.”
“He’s still grounded.”
He held up his hand in mock surrender. “I don’t disagree.”
“Okay, then. Good.”
“Have a good night, Regina.” Killian forged out into the snow, making his way toward the warm car.
Emma’s recent attempt to eat healthier was in evidence when he walked through his front door. She stood over a cutting board, painstakingly slicing carrots to throw into a salad. She wore leggings and thick socks, her hair piled on top of her head just as he’d imagined, and Killian felt his heartbeat accelerate as he hung up his jacket. Sidling up behind her, he placed a kiss on the back of her neck. Emma squeaked and squirmed away.
“You’re freezing!” she gasped, gesturing at him with a paring knife. “Don’t do that when I’m armed, buddy.”
Killian pretended to be indignant, clicking his tongue as he ran his hand through his hair, damp with melting snow. “This is the thanks I get for going into the station on a Saturday in this weather?”
Emma grinned and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I’ll reward you for that later,” she said with a lascivious wink. “How’s Henry?”
Killian glanced at the stairs; Henry might be feeling a little better, but he had immediately dashed up to his room nonetheless. “He’ll be fine. It’s the other kids at that school I’m a lot less sanguine about.”
She snorted. “Did you catch one of them with weed again?”
“No, but apparently it would be a simple matter to do so.” He poured himself some rum from the decanter on the kitchen counter. “How was your afternoon?”
“Boring.” She set her knife down and walked over to wrap him in a hug. “I’m glad you’re home.” She scraped a nail down the hollow of his neck. “You know, I was thinking that in the morning, we could—”
“Stay abed and ignore the outside world for a while?” he supplied with a grin.
“I love that you know me so well,” Emma replied.
~*~
By the time he crossed dulled practice swords with Henry on that day when the shape of everything shifted, winter had turned into spring had turned into summer. It started as a day like any other but ended with another serious conversation and the realization that whatever the future held, things were certain to change.
“He’s lucky to have a… pirate like you,” Emma said after he’d reassured her that Henry leaving wouldn’t be an ending. It would signify a beginning, both for Henry’s story and perhaps for the new adventure that he and Emma were contemplating. While he knew it was too soon for her to be pregnant — she’d just taken the last of those birth control pills a few days before — he couldn’t help thinking about it constantly.
Killian turned and looked at Henry standing at the prow of the Jolly Roger, staring out over the water.
Emma bumped her hip against his. “By which I mean father. You got that, right?”
“Yes, darling, I cracked your code.” He held his hook up to his ear. “Do you hear that? It’s the sound of Baelfire rolling over in his grave.”
“I think you’re probably wrong about that, but we don’t need to have that discussion again.” Emma glanced at her watch, and then at Henry. “I’m supposed to meet Mom in a little while. Are you good here?”
“Aye.” He tilted his head toward Henry. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Okay.” She kissed him. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” He watched her walk down the gangplank, probably ogling her backside a little too blatantly given that her son was present, but it wasn’t the first time and probably wouldn’t be the last. Once Emma had disappeared, Killian hesitantly made his way over to Henry.
“Sorry I played a little dirty back there, lad,” he said, referencing their earlier sparring match.
Henry shrugged. “It’s fine. I told you not to go easy on me and you didn’t.”
“You’re very good, Henry. A natural swordsman, just like Dave. If I got the drop on you, it’s only because I spent decades fending off mutiny attempts from pirates lacking in loyalty. Looking for any opening, no matter how dishonorable, is instinct for me.”
Henry scowled at him. “You don’t have to compliment me. I said it’s fine.”
“Then what’s bothering you? Because clearly, something is.”
After a long pause, Henry spoke. “Mom mentioned college to me again. That we should go on a road trip and visit some places.” He scuffed the bottom of his shoe against the deck.
“Which mom, Regina?”
“Yeah.”
“And college isn’t what you want,” Killian guessed.
“When you’ve traveled realms and fought mythic, dark forces and seen what the true nature of magic and power really are, it’s hard to imagine going to…” He gestured vaguely out to the harbor. “...Bates College and studying Poli Sci.”
“What’s ‘polysigh’?” Killian asked.
“Yeah, exactly my point.”
Killian frowned, wondering if this was a reference to another movie he hadn’t watched, or perhaps had fallen asleep during.
“So if you don’t want to get further schooling, what do you want to do?”
Henry shrugged, still staring at the water. “Go see what the world has to offer. Not just this world, lots of worlds. I feel like I must have a story out there somewhere. My story. And it isn’t here. It isn’t in Storybrooke and it isn’t at some New England liberal arts college that Regina Mills deems acceptable.”
“So tell her that,” Killian said.
“She’s not going to go for it,” Henry sighed.
Killian leaned up against the gunwale next to his stepson, giving him a sidelong glance. “I don’t think it matters whether she goes for it. You’ll be out of high school and a grown man. I’m not suggesting that you shouldn’t seek her approval because I think it’s important that you stay on good terms with both of your mothers. But in the end, it’s your choice.”
“Emma’s not going to like it either, you know.”
“It will take some getting used to for all of us, but she’ll deal with it better than you think she will,” Killian said.
Henry wrinkled his nose. “Because you’re gonna have a baby together? I don’t think she’s that easily distractible.”
“She told you that?” Killian was surprised that Henry knew already — they’d only just decided fairly recently that it was something both of them wanted.
“Yeah, she was freaking out about the idea that I would feel replaced, or that I’d be jealous because she didn’t keep me… you know the drill.” Henry turned around and leaned back, stretching out his spine. “I don’t feel that way, for the record.”
“I would never think of a new child as a replacement for you, Henry. No one could ever replace you in my eyes.”
Henry broke his gaze, visibly uncomfortable with such blatantly emotional talk. He rubbed at his sternum and grimaced. “I’m gonna have a bruise where you kicked me.”
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay.”
“Come on,” Killian said, clapping Henry on the back. “Emma is with her mother this evening, so let’s go tend to our aches and pains, order a pizza, and then I’ll let you trounce me in the video game of your choosing.”
Henry smiled. “It’s a deal.”
~*~
Snow White stood over the colorful birthday cake brandishing a large knife. “Piece of cake for you, Killian?” “PPY THDAY EAL” remained of the lettering on Neal’s cake.
He dragged his eyes away from the diner booth where his wife was holed up and smiled at this mother-in-law. “None for me, but do me a favor and cut two pieces, one each for those two lonely women in the corner over there,” he said, tilting his head toward the back of the diner.
Snow looked over and made a sympathetic face. “They miss Henry,” she said.
“Aye.”
“Well,” she said as she sliced the cake and put it on plates, “there’s nothing like cake to turn those frowns upside down.”
Killian suppressed a grimace. He’d never really adjusted to this realm’s fixation on overly sweet concoctions, despite his wife’s influence. “Indeed.” Pinching the edges of the two paper plates between his thumb and forefinger, he carried them over to the booth and slid in next to Emma.
“Cake?” He put one plate in front of his wife and one in front of Regina.
“This piece is way too big,” Regina complained, nonetheless picking up the plastic fork and digging in. Emma gave him a brief smile and did the same.
“We didn’t have enough birthday parties for Henry,” Emma commented glumly.
“We had parties,” Regina protested. “Remember his sixteenth birthday when I let his friends make a disaster of my house?”
“Or seventeen, when I let them have the run of the Jolly Roger? I found two of his friends pawing at each other in my quarters,” Killian added.
“Only I should be getting pawed at in your quarters,” Emma said. “But I meant earlier. When he turned eleven and twelve and thirteen.”
“His birthday did tend to get preempted by whatever crisis we were dealing with at the time,” Regina said.
“And who’s going to give him cake now? I bet they don’t even have proper birthday cake in whatever realm he’s in.” Emma speared a forkful containing nothing but frosting and put it in her mouth, leaving her lips a disturbing shade of blue.
“Or apple pie,” Regina added. “Or lasagna.”
A cacophonous cavalry of four- and five-year-olds, high on sugar, ran through the diner. “See? Children get older and they just leave you.”
“They're going to kindergarten, Swan, not leaving home. Let's not get ahead of ourselves,” Killian said, reaching over to rub her back soothingly.
“Yeah, but they will leave home. Eventually, everyone does. Even a kid you and I have — they'll grow up and leave us.” Regina’s eyes widened: "Are you pregnant?” Emma waved her fork dismissively: “It's a hypothetical baby. I mean, we’re trying. Well, we’re not trying not to.” She put another forkful of cake in her mouth. “Don’t tell Zelena, she’ll be on me about it every month.”
Regina just nodded at that.
“I’m sure wherever Henry is, he’s enjoying the adventure of living his life, cake or no,” Killian said.
Emma gave him a sad-eyed look. “Do you really think so?”
“Hook should know,” Regina muttered. “He is the Henry whisperer.”
“Yeah, he is totally the Henry whisperer, you’re so right, Regina.”
Killian frowned. “I’m the what?”
“Ever since the two of you got married, or no, probably before that, you’ve always been able to figure out exactly what was bothering Henry and the right thing to say to make him feel better. It’s incredibly annoying,” Regina said.
Killian puffed up a little bit at that. “Well, sometimes you just have to talk, man-to-man—”
“Ugh, stop,” Emma said, glaring at him. “Don’t make this about testosterone. But it’s true that you understand Henry, and we do appreciate that.”
“Well, if that’s so, then heed my words, ladies. He’s out there living a fantastic life, and the last thing he would want is for you two to be here moping about him being gone.”
Emma sighed heavily. “You’re right. What do you say, Regina? Ladies’ night at the Rabbit Hole?”
Regina got a wicked gleam in her eye.”I’m game.”
Before Killian knew quite what was happening, he’d been pushed out of his seat, kissed on the cheek, and left alone by Emma and Regina, who were looking decidedly more cheerful as they exited the diner.
He sat back down and took a bite of his wife’s leftover cake, wincing at the sweetness as the gaggle of children led by Neal, toy sword thrust high in the air, gamboled back into the room.
“Hey, Killian!” the birthday boy shouted.
Spying the other wooden sword of the matched set on the counter by the cash register, Killian swaggered over and picked it up, flipping it end-over-end before catching it easily. “Greetings, young princeling,” he said, turning back to his brother-in-law. “Are you ready to protect your kingdom from an invasion of murderous pirates?”
The children squealed, and Killian grinned.
111 notes · View notes