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welllpthisishappening · 5 years ago

Text

Setting Up the Go-Ahead

Emma knew he was standing there.

Could feel the nerves coming off Henry as easily as they were her own. And she understood. She did. Getting everything you ever wanted had a tendency to be a little overwhelming, especially for a recently-turned thirteen-year-old who suddenly had parents and a whole hockey team read to claim familial rights.

Or: Henry’s just been adopted and wants to get something for Robin and Regina. He’s got some help when it comes to picking out a gift.

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Word Count: 5.9K Rating: A very low T AN: Listen, I’ve got no self-control when things are normal, so add in working from home, my very real concern about the immediate future of sports, and my tendency to write hockey fic when I am stressed and...here we are. With a new Blue Line one shot collection. Also @eleveneitherway has been sending me gorgeous manips all week and I couldn’t not write something. I couldn’t. Will I ever post the stuff I haven’t or just keep writing new stuff? Who can say.

|| Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll ||

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He didn’t knock.

He didn’t take another step.

Emma wasn’t entirely sure Henry was breathing, really.

He just stood there— frozen on the edge of Emma’s vision, while she did her best not to show her growing impatience and curiosity. But the numbers in front of her were also starting to blur, and she’d very quickly been running out of space on her office floor in the last few days and—

“Oh my God, Henry, what are you doing here?” Merida cried, stumbling back because there was a recently-turned thirteen-year-old standing in the open doorway to Emma’s office. Still just as silent as ever.

“Boss, are you laughing at this?” Emma shrugged, finally pulling her eyes away from paperwork about signed merchandise and it was only a few weeks into the season, but they were already planning for a Garden of Dreams night and there was a game on Friday night and she really could not see much of her office carpet anymore.

“Well, he was just lurking out there,” Emma said, fully expecting the dots of color that were already starting to linger on Henry’s cheeks. He ducked his head, suddenly very interested in his sneakers and she couldn’t imagine Regina was all that pleased with the length of his hair.

As was her now official-mother right.

Because Henry was now Henry Mills-Locksley with parents and a house downtown and more paperwork to prove it than Emma could have ever imagined, even when she’d let herself imagine something like that for herself. Mary Margaret had been helping Ariel and Aurora plan the inevitable party for the last two days.

While Emma had been drowning in team-branded merchandise and how, exactly, to staff all the phones for Garden of Dreams night.

“That is true,” Merida agreed. “He was kind of lurking out here.”

She slung her arm around Henry’s slumped shoulders, pulling him against her side with a soft huff because a recently-turned thirteen-year-old, it seemed, was prone to uncontrollable limbs and, if Emma was right, pre-party nerves.

“I wasn’t trying to lurk,” Henry mumbled. “Just—you know, I didn’t want to interrupt.” Emma’s lips twitched. “So you figured you’d just give Merida a heart attack?” “Aw, c’mon. She’s fine.” “Stout-hearted Merida.” “That makes it sound like I’m getting ready to go into battle,” Merida grumbled. “Or fight a bear or something.” “Is stout-hearted not a compliment?” Emma asked, leaning against the side of her desk and the few inches of open space. She crooked a finger towards Henry, lifting her eyebrows when he didn’t move immediately, but then he was flopping next to her and she kind of regretted the whole thing.

If only because his elbows appeared to be made of lead.

“No,” Merida answered, “It’s—” “—A little epic,” Henry said. “Right? Like, I’d feel good if someone stout-hearted was going to defend me from—” “—That bear?” Emma suggested. Henry’s head dropped again, in almost perfect time with his shoulders, but it was definitely because of the laugh he was trying to hide and Merida didn’t look all that impressed.

She moved the stack of papers in her hand. To her hip. Emma assumed that made it easier to glare at the pair of them.

“We figure out who’s going to answer the phones yet on Friday?” Emma asked.

Merida sighed, an entire head roll coming with it. “It’s a definite work in progress. Mostly because Aurora’s been so busy with—” She cut herself off when Henry tensed, shoulders going impossibly straight for a kid who’d been smiling an almost record amount since he’d gotten back from Family Court.

Emma narrowed her eyes.

Merida was going to drop the stack of papers if she kept moving them at their current rate.

“Why were you here, Henry?” Emma asked, nudging him with her elbow. But it wasn’t made of lead, and thirteen-year-olds were notoriously stubborn and she was fairly positive Mary Margaret was going to buy out a balloon wholesaler before this whole thing was finished.

Nothing.

More silence. More ridiculous shoulder movement.

“I’ll get Ariel up here, she’ll make you do some ridiculous routine so you don’t overwork the muscles up there” Emma threatened, but the words lost something when Merida snickered. “You’re not really helping.” Merida hummed. “That’s because I’m getting ready to tame some bears or whatever stout-hearted people do and—” She took a step, tip-toeing around piles of jerseys and boxes of pucks, nearly toppling a small mountain of hockey sticks. “I would bet everyone in this entire franchise several million dollars, that our dear teenager—” “—Aw, that’s really not funny,” Henry mumbled.

Merida ignored him, taping two fingers on the side of his still-red cheeks. “Is a little nervous about being the guest of honor at Friday’s post-game thing. And does not want to...what should we call it? Jinx it? There’s paperwork, Henry. Nothing’s going to happen. Robin and Regina wouldn’t let anything happen.” “I know,” Henry said, barely above a whisper and something in the back of Emma’s brain startled at that.

She glanced at Merida. Who was not very good at shrugging covertly. “Saw that,” Henry muttered. “And—it’s not really that. Like, at all. I...I know Robin and Regina aren’t going to back out and obviously I’m stupid happy about that. I mean, I’ve got a house and a room to myself and they’re already talking about a vacation? An actual vacation, maybe something during the All-Star break, which is just...nuts.”

“Did you just say stupid happy?” Merida laughed. “And nuts? Is that how the teens are speaking these days?”

Henry made a face. “I think that means you’re not hip, Mer,” Emma laughed.

“Is not hip the right terminology here?” Merida asked. “No,” Henry answered. “And neither one of you are very good at this. Listen, I’m not worried about the party or, like, I don’t know the rest of my life or whatever. But…” “But,” Emma echoed.

She waited for the answer, or the rest of the sentence, curiosity growing even more than her impatience, because Emma suddenly had a very good guess as to what was going to come next. Only there were footsteps approaching her somehow still-open door. “Seriously, why don’t we ever close that thing?” she asked Merida, getting another less-than-enthusiastic shrug.

Henry chuckled.

“You’re not good at secrets either,” Emma chided, as Phillip leaned around the door frame, his own hair a disheveled mess. He was wearing socks with his sandals.

“Hey,” he said, sounding more than a little out of breath. “Henry, I thought we were going to meet downstairs.” Emma’s narrow eyes widened quickly enough that they nearly started to water, not sure where she wanted to look or who she was going to glare at intimidatingly. Phillip grinned. “Oh hey, Em,” he continued. “You know Cap’s looking for you. Something about coffee or tea or dark corners or something.” That made it easier for her to decide who to glare at.

“What do you want, Rook?”

“Henry. Was that not obvious?” “Anyone ever tell you that you have exceptionally pale legs? When’s the last time you saw any kind of sunshine?” “I’ve been a little busy,” Phillip reasoned, stepping into the office and immediately laughing. “At some point, you’re going to have to come up with a better organizational schedule. Someone’s going to break something in here.” “Schedule is not the right word either,” Merida muttered.

Phillip made a dismissive noise, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his shorts and rocking back on his heels. He glanced at Henry, wide eyes and impossibly high eyebrows and Emma was going to blame that last part on Killian.

Wherever he was.

“You know kid," Phillip drawled, “I”m going to be a little offended if you were asking for outside help. Here I thought we were a two-man scheme.” Henry squeezed one eye shut.

“What the hell is going on?” Emma asked sharply. “And where is Killian?” “Probably lurking in that dark corner waiting for you,” Phillip muttered. Merida kicked his ankles. “Hey, hey, I just got off the ice!” “Killian’s probably with Ariel then,” Henry said. “Which makes what you were saying before even less intimidating, Emma.” Merida was still kicking Phillip — Emma only a little worried about the state of the paperwork, but then he moved an arm around her assistant’s middle and the whole thing was so absolutely and completely absurd that she couldn’t be anything except almost entertained. She let her head fall onto Henry’s shoulder.

He smiled.

“What’s your super top secret plan, kid?” Emma pressed.

Henry still didn’t answer immediately, eyes flitting up towards Phillip — “How’d you know I was up here?” he asked.

Phillip grunted when Merida stepped on his foot, but there was something just on the edge of his expression that Emma couldn’t quite name. It left her stomach flipping a little in anticipation, a nervous energy that was equal parts hope and happiness and she kind of wanted her boyfriend to be waiting in a dark corner somewhere.

Preferably with hot chocolate.

He’d totally know to get her hot chocolate.

She just had to help their resident teenager first.

And his teenage-like partner, apparently.

“It’s one building,” Phillip said. “There were only so many places you could go. Plus, you know, even if I think it sucks you want to expand our squad, it seemed pretty inevitable you’d go to Emma for help.” “Help?” Emma asked. “Help with what, exactly?” Phillip stared at Henry. And his exceptionally scrunched nose.

“If you’re not nervous about family life,” Merida started, “then what’s going on with you? Nothing bad, right?” “No, no, no.” Henry shook his head. “What could be bad?” Emma kissed the top of his head. He huffed. “Stand down stout-hearted defender,” she suggested, Merida clicking her tongue in frustration.

“I feel like I’ve missed all the high points of this conversation,” Phillip sighed. “And the kid’s not going to give you a straight answer. He’s spent way too much time with Lucas.” “Oh, I’m going to tell her you said that,” Emma cried. “He wants to get something for Locksley and Gina. Like—a decade-plus worth’s of backlogged mother and father’s day presents. He’s been saving money.” Emma’s jaw dropped.

And, really, that was kind of a lame reaction, but her heart also felt like it was growing and her stomach was doing that flipping and flopping thing again and Merida had stopped trying to check Phillip with that stack of paperwork. So, maybe it was an entirely appropriate reaction.

“Stupid happy,” Merida murmured.

Emma tried not to sniffle. “Heard that,” Henry said, the smile obvious even when her neck was still bent at a wholly uncomfortable angle. “And it’s not really wrong. So, uh—I mean, it was an idea, I guess. Just since it all started, and Robin and Gina have done so much for me and—” “—They’re not looking for payment in kind, kid,” Emma interrupted.

“That’s not what this is.” “No?” “No. It’s—I don’t know how to explain it. It’s...a sign or something. Like laces and rings and—’ “—This is a good tactical approach, Henry,” Phillip said. “Using Em’s own emotional heirlooms against her.” “We’ve really got to learn how words work,” Merida complained. “Rook, did you go to college?”

“Mer, please don’t act like you aren’t painfully aware of the backstory of every single person on this team. It’s almost more insulting than Henry trying to expand the squad without asking me about it first.” “We never agreed to call it a squad,” Henry argued.

Emma was starting to choke on her own laughter. Which wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as it probably should have been. She rested her chin on Henry’s shoulder instead. “Points to me, Rook,” she said. “And while we’re all—what did you call it, painfully aware of your vaunted career at the University of North Dakota and your early elimination from the NCAA Tournament, I’m still not getting a straight-forward answer on several things.” “You want to list your questions?” Phillip quipped. “Yes, obviously I want to list them. One, North Dakota is a dumb state. Two, I cannot imagine why Henry asked you to be on this squad. Three—” “—Can we please stop calling it a squad,” Henry groaned.

“Three,” Emma repeated, “If Henry is here, then that means he needs some help coming up with something to get Robin and Regina and I’d like to know if we’re buying two separate things or one lump gift and if there’s wrapping involved because I’m really bad at wrapping gifts.”

Phillip beamed. “Don’t insult North Dakota like that again.”

“10-4, Rook.” He rolled his eyes. “So, what’s our biggest obstacle, then?” Emma grunted when Henry jumped up, the muscles in her neck not all that pleased to be suddenly forced back into service. “You’re going to help?” Henry asked sharply, both Phillip and Merida doing a God awful job of not laughing.

Emma bit the side of her tongue.

“You came up here, kid,” she said. “And on a scale of one to most insulting, you thinking you’d even have to ask is like a billion.”

He exhaled — loud and a little nervous, possibly a bit overwhelmed, which was a feeling Emma understood only too well. No family and then almost too much family, memories of another meeting in that office just a few months earlier, the floor covered in merchandise and a kid who was worried about getting it all. As if he deserved anything less. As if his parents did. She tugged on her laces before she could stop herself.

Phillip practically cackled.

“Alright,” he said, “so should we start brainstorming, or how does this work, exactly?”

Merida stepped on his toes one more time. “Let me get some paper.”

One sheet of paper, it turned out was not enough. Merida had to get back up more than once, combing through the mess that was Emma’s desk to find a handful of pens and more notebooks, handing them out to the lot of them, sprawled out in the bits of spaces on her floor.

Phillip had laid down at some point, one leg bent and the other crossed over his knee, head lolling back and forth while he hummed under his breath. Henry was flat on his stomach, left foot tapping out to the same rhythm Phillip was barely following, while Emma and Merida sat back-to-back, alternating between coming up with thanks for adopting me gift ideas and trying to name every person who worked at Madison Square Garden and could be coerced into answering a phone on Friday night.

“Nah, not him,” Merida objected. “He’d yell at someone if they didn’t donate enough.” Emma clicked her tongue. “Is that a good or bad thing?” “Bad,” both Phillip and Henry answered before Henry added, “what do you think about...dinner somewhere?” “If you want to face A’s wrath after,” Merida mumbled.

“And we don’t really have time during the season, kid,” Phillip added. “It’s got to be a thing, not necessarily an experience. Although the invitation for you and Rol to hang out at our apartment for the night is open.” “Yeah, nothing says family, like separating the family,” Emma said.

“Come up with something better then.”

“I don’t know—I...what about making something?” “You want Henry to make something? Like what?” “Something,” Emma repeated. “Thoughtful. Arty.” “I’m going to call Mary Margret,” Merida announced. “At least then there’d be something coherent about these conversations.”

“As if you’re not keeping up,” Phillip chided.

“And I don’t know if I can do art stuff,” Henry admitted. “What would I even make? I’m not five. I’m not going to draw things.” “Five’s the cut-off, then?” Henry rolled...his whole body.

“And what exactly were you bringing to the squad, Rook?” Emma asked, as much sarcasm as she could fit into the words. “How long have you two been planning all of this?” Phillip propped himself up on his elbows, the sandal on his left foot barely holding on. She’d taken off her shoes as soon as she’d sat on the ground. “I’m an excellent present-buyer,” he said, with enough pride that Emma couldn’t even really fault him for it. “Ask Rose, she’ll—what? What’s with the face?” “I’m sorry, do you call your fiancée Rose?” “God, that’s gross,” Merida muttered. Henry moved his hand over his mouth.

Maybe they were just taking turns blushing. Phillip was as red as Merida’s hair, eyes moving anywhere except the gaze Emma left boring into the side of his head, and whatever noise bubbled out of her was so goddamn happy she still couldn’t quite come to terms with it.

She was going to help Mary Margaret buy out that balloon wholesaler.

“I don’t want to hear it, Em,” Phillip warned. “You and Cap are constantly disgusting and Rose and I have been together way longer—” “—Is it a competition?” “Everything on this team is a competition,” Henry shrugged, and well, that was fair.

Phillip’s eyes were very wide. “All I’m saying is that I’ve known her forever and in the grand scheme of grand romances in this whole thing, we’re definitely in contention for top three. We’re at least beating Scarlet and Belle, for sure.” “How do you figure?” “Um, did you not hear my romantic nickname for my fiancée? Scarlet needed to break his leg to call Belle his girlfriend and they’d been dating forever.” “He’s got a point, boss,” Merida said.

Emma hummed. “And who’s on the top of your list, huh?” “Worried about your title, Em?” Phillip asked knowingly.

“Oh shut up.” “I don’t know. I think Locksley and Gina are gunning for that top spot. They’ve got the family and the cute kids and—” Henry gagged. “Listen, Henry, you’re cute, get with it. And now you’ve got parents who are also pretty into each other and, they may not have dark corners to make out in, but I think that slow and steady romance has its own advantages.” “Speaking from experience?” Emma added. “And you’re way too confident in your own humor now, Rook. I think you’ve been spending too much time with Scarlet.”

“Something like that. On both fronts.”

She was starting to get used to the way her cheeks ached from smiling so much.

“None of this is helping,” Henry yelled. “It’s—it’s all gross and—”

He made another noise, flailing limbs and teenage-type angst and Emma tugged her lips behind her teeth before she looked back at Philipp, still a little flush with a pen stuck behind his ear. “That may be something you have to get used to,” he said. “And I stand by my original claim that we should get jewelry of some sort. It’s an easy gift, covers both our giftees, and is easy to wrap because of the boxes, plus Rose loves when I buy it.” “I’m sorry,” Merida muttered, “I really just can't get over Rose. How did that start? Was it Shakespearean? By any other name or something like that?” “He went to UND, Mer,” Emma pointed out, fully expecting the look she got. “You can’t expect that kind of depth to a nickname.” Phillip did his best to flip her off, but Henry was still there and he had to settle for tossing his pen in Emma’s direction. It felt six inches away from her hand. “Didn’t really hit your mark, did you?” “Passing isn’t my thing,” Phillip grumbled.

“Yuh huh. You’re still avoiding the answer.”

“If it’s an actual flower pun, I might scream,” Merida guaranteed.

Phillip grimaced. “It’s not. Kind of. Just it’s—her mom was big on flowers when she was growing up and she used to prick her finger a lot and—”

Emma almost threw a puck at whoever was knocking on her door, Henry burying his head in his crossed arms, even as his whole body shook with his laughter. And Killian didn’t do much more than lift his eyebrows, feet crossed at the ankles and fingers tugging on the still damp hair at the back of his neck.

“Did I interrupt something?” “Nah, Cap,” Phillip said almost immediately. “Took you long enough to get up here.” He was holding two cups in his other hand. Emma was genuinely not sure how much more of this her heart could take. A lifetime, she was starting to hope. But that felt like getting ahead of themselves a little and, as much as she’d hate to admit it, Phillip was right — slow and steady romance had several things going for it.

“Got impatient,” Killian said, all calm and easy and he didn’t trip or flinch when he weaved his way through the office. “Hi, love.” “Were you waiting for me?” “I did mention the impatience, right?”

“Mmhm,” Emma nodded. She reached up, the warmth of the cup working through her and into her soul and she was a great, big giant sap. Henry was standing up again. So he could bob on the balls of his feet.

“What’s with the kid?” Killian asked, one side of his mouth tugging up when he nodded at Henry.

“We’re buying a present.” “Are we?” “Me,” Henry corrected. “I am buying a present and asked some of the adults in my life to be helpful, but—” “—Ok, we are being very helpful,” Phillip cut in. “I’ve come up with half a dozen stellar ideas and you’ve shot them all down.” “Must not be as stellar as you think then, huh, Rook?” Killian asked, peering over the top of his cup. His fingers grazed Emma’s shoulder when he walked by, perching on the same spot of desk she’d been sitting in what now felt like an eternity ago.

“We’re stuck on jewelry, it seems,” Emma said.

“And this is what—a thanks for adopting me gift?” “I mean, we’re not calling it that, exactly.” “That’s basically what it is, though,” Henry said. He dropped next to Killian, as casual as anything, but Emma knew it was exactly the opposite. And they didn’t really look similar — Killian’s hair darker and his shoulders broader than Henry’s, but Emma could see the glimpses of one in the other when they sat there, near-matching looks of concentration and understanding, more common ground between the three of them.

She took another sip of hot chocolate.

So as not to be tempted to kiss her boyfriend while he sat next to Henry.

“And we’re buying one gift?” Killian asked. “Of the stellar variety?” “None of you are cool,” Henry mumbled.

“See if I score for you on Friday.” “You want to score for Emma, anyway, so—whatever.” “Whatever. Good argument.” “Who’s the teenager in this instance?” Merida asked.

Emma shook her head, already almost out of hot chocolate. “I honestly have no idea. But, yeah, combined present, or double present. Same thing for both of them. So that means it’s got to be something they both like or are both into, but—” “—Gina is proving a problem,” Phillip said begrudgingly. Killian’s eyebrows all but disappeared. “Don’t do that, Cap. Seriously, this is not helping at all and you were waiting to make out with Em and, you know, none of us can cope with that.” “Honestly,” Henry agreed.

Killian ignored that. Or, so Emma assumed, when he didn’t say anything, just sat on the edge of her desk with his legs stretched and the tip of his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek. It was distracting.

Emma wanted to pace.

She didn’t. She knew he was thinking something.

“Well,” she prompted, “what’s your great idea, then?” “How do you know I have an idea?” Killian challenged.

“You’re doing that thing with your face.” “My face?”

Emma hummed. She was out of hot chocolate. “Thinking face.” “I’m sorry, what?” “You do this thing with your face. When you start plotting. Your eyebrows get all high and your lips get really thin. It’s a habit.” “Sounds like you’re staring at my lips, Swan.” “Do we have to be here for this?” Phillip groused.

“Honestly,” Merida sighed. “And Cap if you’re not going to volunteer ideas for the Rangers’ currently reigning supreme romantic couple or sign some of those pucks Em hasn’t asked you about, then you should probably stop blowing off Ariel.” “Red’s planning a party. She’s not worried about my thighs.” “Are you worried about your thighs?” “Oh my God, stop talking about Cap’s thighs,” Phillip shouted.

Killian’s smirk gained power. Emma had to put her cup down. She was going to crush it in her hand. “Are we referring to Locksley and Gina as reigning supreme romantic couple now?” “There was a list,” Emma explained.

“And where did we end up?” “Second.” “That’s really disappointing.” “Isn’t it, just?” Phillip collapsed back, Henry’s head falling forward and—“You know Locksley’s nickname in college was Arrow?” Killian asked. He nodded when Emma’s jaw did that dropping open thing again, all the air she hadn’t realized she’d been holding rushing out of her in a huff. “Oh yeah, it’s not really all that creative. But the story, as I understand it, is that he used to hit the bullseye on every pass, so—you know college kids. Kind of stopped once he got to the pros, but I know he’s told Gina about it and it always makes her laugh.” “Laugh?” Emma repeated. “I don’t even want to suggest that Gina has ever giggled in her life. She’ll teleport here and kick me in the shins.” “And when you’re already so worried about your thighs.” “Exactly.” Emma stuck her lower lip out when she nodded, if only so Killian’s chest would shift as soon as his breath caught. “It’s a better nickname than what Rook calls Aurora.” “What does Rook call Aurora?” “Rose.” “No shit.” Phillip threw another pen. Emma couldn’t begin to imagine where he was getting them from. “You're a picture of responsibility,” he sneered. “There are kids here.” “He’s been on the ice before,” Killian said. “And I think you’re just worried about your standing in this list. What do you think about arrows, Henry?” He startled at the sudden inclusion in the conversation, nearly taking out a stick in the process. Both Emma and Merida winced. Loudly.

“Control your limbs,” Killian added, pulling Henry back to his side. “Arrows. Thoughts?” “Arrows,” Henry said. “Like more than one?” “Well, you’ve got two parents now, right?” “Yuh huh.” “Then yeah, plural.”

“What would we get though? Actual bows and arrows are a little—” “—Lord of the Rings,” Merida suggested. “Plus then you’ve got to worry about up-keep and a quiver and it’s a whole thing.”

Emma’s jaw was going to stay permanently dropped.

“What?” Merida asked. “That’s normal knowledge.” “Did you pick this up before or after the bear thing?” Emma laughed.

“Seriously, I'm disappointed I missed all the fun parts of this conversation,” Phillip muttered. “And if we’re looking for multiple presents, I continue to stand by jewelry suggestion. You get necklaces and it’s paternal and familial and decidedly emotional and everyone lives happily ever after. And, you know, I’ve got a guy.”

“You’ve got a guy,” Killian repeated slowly, careful to emphasize every word for maximum mocking potential.

“Yeah. Ros—Aurora has a charm bracelet that I’ve been adding onto since college. In North Dakota, Em.” “Did I miss something there?” “Just mocking alma maters,” Emma said. “And I think it’s a good idea. It’s sentimental without being cheesy and we could probably get it today. What do you think, Henry?” His smile could have rivaled the sun. And every light in the New York skyline.

Emma’s heart thudded.

And she didn’t quite count the seconds, but she might have been holding her breath again, eyes flitting across every person in her office until they landed on Henry and his smile and the lingering color in his cheeks.

He nodded.

“Someone will probably have to distract Gina and Robin for a couple hours. Where, uh—where do we meet this guy?” “This is not some backroom dealing,” Phillip sighed. “He owns a jewelry store in Chelsea. This is totally legit.” “And distraction sounds like a perfect job for Scarlet,” Killian added. “You want to go now?” “What?" Henry balked. "Now?” “Why not?” “I don’t—I don’t know. Yeah, ok. Now’s fine.”

It didn’t take long to enlist Scarlet in running interference — his laugh almost uproarious when he heard the plan and made sure to ruffle Henry’s hair before letting the kid follow Emma and Killian into a cab.

“Gina won’t like that,” Emma muttered, but Killian just waved her off.

“What Gina doesn’t know will not kill her. And cabs are good for the city-soul or something.” “Or something.”

And Phillip had been right about the store, necklaces and rings and bracelets and enough shiny things that Emma found herself blinking on instinct. But there was a section of charms and chains and Killian kept his hand on Henry’s shoulder the entire time.

Even when he was forty-two dollars short.

“Damn,” Henry mumbled, not bothering to quiet his disappointment. Emma didn’t blame him, could see the look on his face and remember the feeling that was practically wafting off him. She took a step forward on more instinct of the familial variety, resting her other hand on the only shoulder Henry had available.

That made it difficult to reach for her wallet.

It also gave Killian plenty of time to get his.

“Don't worry about it,” he said as if it wasn’t something incredibly important or another moment that Emma was going to hoard in the back corners of her brain. Henry tilted his head up, eyes gone wide and a little bit glossy as he opened his mouth to argue.

But Killian just shook his head, quick and brusque.

“Captain-esque,” Emma whispered. Killian winked. He tried, at least.

Henry grit his teeth, breathing as quickly as Phillip had earlier that afternoon. “Are you sure?” “Silly question,” Killian said. “I’m serious. I’m—” “—Part of this team, Henry. And if I’m captain of this team, then that means it’s my job to take care of everyone, right?” “It means you get to argue with the refs.” “Ah, well, we’ll say it’s a grey area, huh?” Emma kissed the top of Henry’s head again. She couldn’t think of anything else to do. Not when Henry kept blinking and Killian did the opposite, the lights from Phillip’s fancy jewelry store glinting off the pair of arrow charms sitting in front of them. “Yeah,” Henry said. “Ok. That’s, uh—thanks, Killian.” “How much you want to bet Gina’s going to cry when you give them to her?” “Gina doesn’t cry.” “Eh, I don’t know about that, kid. She definitely cried when she called me and Emma to tell us everything was official.”

Henry’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “Oh, she’ll never forgive you for giving that up,” Emma said.

Killian shrugged. ‘I think she’ll have other things to worry about. I’m serious kid, what do you want to bet?” “I spent all my money,” Henry grumbled.

“So, we’ll bet practice time. Half an hour on the ice in Tarrytown if she does? I’ll sneak you on and face the wrath of a number of authority figures.” “Seriously?” “You gotta stop double checking.” Henry thrust his hand out — and Emma was sure she didn’t imagine the knowing look on the face of the guy behind the counter — shaking Killian’s and agreeing to terms as the register dinged loudly.

They bought Henry wrapping paper from the Duane Read two blocks away.

“Ten bucks says she excuses herself before bursting into tears,” Emma said, hours later, standing in their kitchen with a towel flipped over her shoulder.

Killian arched an eyebrow, another smirk tugging at the ends of his mouth. “I’d rather bet something other than money.” “Yeah, what?” “There’s plenty of corners in that restaurant.” “You want to make out?” “Yes,” he said, simple enough that Emma couldn’t contain her laugh. Or the joy that appeared to come with it every time she realized this was actually her laugh.

“Straight to the point, huh?” “No reason to beat around the bushes,” Killian shrugged. He crowded behind her, head dropping so he could trail kisses along the back of her neck and Emma seriously could not control whatever she was doing. Arching her back, and smiling like an idiot, reaching back to swat away his hands at the same time she tried to grab his hair. “You’re sending mixed messages, love,” Killian added, “I’ll think you don’t want to make out with me.” “In dark corners.” “Or anywhere, really. I’m not particular.” She laughed, body shaking against Killian’s when he tugged the towel off. That was probably for the best. And Emma couldn’t really keep her balance when he spun her, hands flying to his chest and chin jutted out on instinct, letting Killian catch her lips with his almost immediately.

That made it easier to tell he was smiling too.

Laughing, as well.

The whole lifetime thing was starting to seem more and more reasonable.

“Captain Killian Jones, a benevolent leader to his team and kids everywhere,” Emma mumbled, mostly into the side of his jaw. He was still smiling, she knew it.

“If you can think the word benevolent at this point, we’ve got problems.” “Maybe I’m just way smarter than all of you.” “That college degree’ll do it, yeah.”

She’d stopped believing this was a dream or a fantasy months ago, but Emma still couldn’t quite control the rush of emotion that flew down either one of her legs and up her arm, circling her heart and her soul and—”I love you,” she breathed.

“I love you too, Swan.”

“Yeah?” “Not something you have to double check either. We’re totally coming for Locksley and Gina’s relationship crown though.” “Competitive weirdo.” “Yeah, but you said you loved me. So…” He didn’t bother saying anything else, hands drifting towards the hem of Emma’s shirt and the button of her jeans and she got enough people to answer the phones the next afternoon.

And Regina Mills-Locksley burst into tears as soon as she opened the box.

Robin kept blinking.

In the middle of the restaurant uptown.

Surrounded by balloons and a cheering hockey team.

“Told you,” Killian mumbled, bumping Emma side.

She didn’t say anything, just let herself curl against his side and she was fairly certain she heard the shutter click on Will’s phone.

“You’ve got to put it on, Gina,” Will shouted, Belle on his leg and his chin hooked over her shoulder. “Now, now, now!” The rest of the peanut gallery started to chant as well, Phillip crying “You too, Locksley, fair’s only fair.”

They both had to try more than once — shaking hands and tear-stained cheeks, and Emma refused to be held responsible for the number of times she sniffled, particularly when Regina’s fingers ghosted over the charm as soon as it fell over her shirt, pulling Henry into a tight hug. Or, a day later when someone in the post-game scrum of a 4-2 victory over the Canadiens that included the go-ahead goal coming off Killian’s stick on a pass from Robin, asked “where’d the new jewelry come from, Locksley?” And it took a moment for him to respond, rolling his shoulders and sitting up a bit straighter. But then he grinned and looked directly at the camera in front of him.

“My son got it for me.”

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #captain swan fanfiction #blue line one shot #i don't write about phillip enough #this is my quest to write about more side pairings #maybe even other pov???#who knows #seriously if you guys still read these stress-relief exercises of mine #it is very nice #so thanks for that

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