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cordonian-literature · 4 years ago

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The Aftermath - Ch. 27

Apples and the Doctor’s Office

Summary: After the first day of the Apple Blossom Festival and Drake’s birthday, Riley, Liam, and the kids visit a doctor

Word Count: ~4.8k

Warnings: mention of character death, mention of addiction/drug abuse

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s book “The Goldfinch”)*

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I’m not sure if the tags are working or not, but I hope I got everyone down! If you would like to be added/removed, please let me know :)

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- Eleanor -

Mama woke us up extra early the morning after the beach party. While she helped bring my stuff to the car that was waiting outside, I decided to go back onto the bed and take a nap until it was time to actually leave. But when I opened my eyes, I was already in the car, my head on Mama’s leg.

Mama and Daddyo were sitting next to each other and talking quietly while Gabe was sleeping on the other seat. I looked out the window to find that we were driving by large fields. There were trees surrounding little farms, and I saw animals that looked like sheep or goats, but I couldn’t tell from the distance.

We eventually reach a large house and Daddyo wakes up Gabe to eat breakfast. When we walk into the kitchen there are already waffles, omelets, and fruits waiting for us. During the meal, Daddyo tells Mama that he’s worried about some investigation but Gabe and me are too focused on eating to pay attention.

After that, Daddyo asks us what we want to do today, and Gabe suggests soccer. I didn’t really want to play, but I still follow the two of them outside.

While we walk through the large house, there are people working and cleaning like crazy. I ask Daddyo why they’re doing that, and he tells me it’s because the court is going to show up in a few hours.

Daddyo leads us far away from the building and towards a bunch of apple trees. I skip alongside him, humming whatever tune came into my head. Him and Gabe find four sticks and push them into the ground. Another person walks out of the house with a soccer ball, and Daddyo gives it to me to start out the game.

I kick it, trying to get it back towards him, but the ball goes to Gabe instead, who kicks it into the goal and gets a point. He goes to get the ball and gives it back to me. When I try and kick it towards the goal to get myself a point, I kick it in the wrong direction again and it ends up at Daddyo’s feet, who manages to kick it into the goal to get us a point.

The three of us play around for a few hours until some servants come out and tell us that the court has started to arrive, and Daddyo told us we needed to go get ready for the Apple Blossom Festival.

Mama helped us get dressed, but Daddyo had to leave to get ready for something. I was upset since I wanted to spend more time with him, but Gabe said that we would probably see him later.

After everyone is dressed, Mama, Gabe, and me walk back over towards the apple trees with Duchess Olivia and Countess Hana. I ask Mama if Uncle Boris and Aunt Rowan would come, too. She tells me that Aunt Rowan is with Lord Maxwell, and comments that she hasn’t seen Uncle Boris since the horse race.

We keep walking until we reach a small area where there aren’t that many trees, but a lot of people were gathered. There were photographers and people who I recognized from other events. I see Daddyo walk towards the front of the crowd, with Bastien and some other guards walking behind him.

He faces the crowd and asks for everyone’s attention. I notice Heather out of the corner of my eye and walk up to her. Uncle Leo gives me a high-five when he sees me and Hunter walks towards my brother.

“Welcome to the annual Apple Blossom Festival!” he calls out. People clap lightly, and I see Lord Maxwell start cheering. “Traditionally, the Queen Mother and other ladies of the court would taste the first apples of the season, so in her memory, I propose we all take a bite.”

There are some nods, and servants begin passing out apples to the adults. When a servant gives an apple to Uncle Leo and Aunt Katie, Uncle Leo takes both apples to give to Hunter and Heather. The same servant gives Gabe and me apples, and someone shoves a camera into my face.

“Go on, kiddos,” the person behind the camera says to me and Gabe. “Take a bite of the apple.”

I look at the fruit in my hand, which is probably one of the brightest and reddest apples I’ve ever seen. Gabe takes a bite of his apple, but before he can even start chewing, he starts coughing again. The cameraman angles his camera away and asks Gabe if he’s okay.

“Yeah, sorry if I coughed on your camera,” Gabe says.

“That’s fine,” the man says. “Were you choking?”

“No, my chest just started hurting.”

“Gotcha. Wanna take another bite?” The cameraman looks over at me, and I take a large bite of my apple.

It’s sweet and sour at the same time. I hate sour things, and I feel like my cheeks are burning. I force myself to swallow the apple and smile at the cameraman, because spitting it out would probably look gross. “Yummy!” I manage to say.

“Adorable!” the man says, then turns to take a picture of Gabe, who smiles while chewing.

“That was delicious,” Gabe comments. The cameraman thanks us and walks away.

“That was sour,” Hunter says, wiping some juice off his chin.

My brother shrugs. “I like sour foods.”

Gabe finishes his apple and asks for another one. When the rest of the court has also eaten at least one apple, Daddyo asks for everyone’s attention again.

“As everyone has taken a bite of their apples,” he begins. “I would like to thank our farmers, ones whose families have provided for Cordonia for generations.” He clears his throat, then starts talking again. “There is something else I wish to speak about. I know that recently Cordonia has faced many challenges. There have been natural disasters, economic recessions, international disagreements, and uprisings by anti-monarchist organizations. But Cordonia and her people have always been resilient. We’ve always stood together in unity.

“Some of you I’ve known since my early childhood,” he continues, “and you’ve held my trust above all others. But this is a very unique issue we are facing, and Cordonia has learned from experience that her allies are not always who they are said to be.

“My security team has reason to believe that the late Queen Mother did not die of a heart attack, but was actually poisoned, just as my own mother was more than thirty years ago.” People in the crowd gasp and begin whispering with each other. “Investigations are being led, but my team has suggested furthering those investigations by searching the belongings of certain members of the court. Do not fret, your privacy will be respected and if need be, the search may be done while you are present.”

The crowd of photographers and reporters start yelling questions towards Daddyo, and Uncle Leo leads us all back towards Mama and Duchess Olivia.

“Did you know Regina was poisoned?” Uncle Leo asks.

“Yes,” Duchess Olivia answers him. “Jacob told me what he discovered this morning. I didn’t know if Liam would tell the people, and I’m surprised that he did.”

“He was worried about it this morning,” Mama adds. All the adults turn to look back at Daddyo, who still has microphones being pushed in front of his face.

“I hope he’s doing okay,” Uncle Leo says.

“I’m sure he is.” Duchess Olivia turns back to Uncle Leo when he speaks, and there’s an angry tone in her voice.

Jessica walks up to the group, pulling Drake behind her. She greets everyone and pinches Gabe’s cheek. Drake starts talking with Uncle Leo, and Jessica turns to Mama.

“I wanted to ask if you would join Drake and I for dinner tonight,” she says. “I made a reservation at a restaurant for his birthday. It would be lovely if you all attended.”

“That’d be nice,” Mama says. “We could all go.”

“No, thank—” Duchess Olivia begins, but Mama gives her a look, and instead says, “Fine.”

“I’ll go fill in Hana and everyone else,” Mama says, walking away.

“Hey, do you wanna go pick some apples?” Heather taps my shoulder to ask.

I search the crowd for Daddyo, but can’t see him anymore. I tell Heather sure, and our brothers follow us towards some trees.

Hunter and Gabe are the ones who want to climb up, and Heather and me are left near some baskets. Gabe tells us to catch the apples they throw down at us and to count them.

For a second I think it’s not a good idea, since I don’t think I’ll be able to catch the apples and am a little scared that I would drop them, but Gabe already sends one down and I throw myself at it.

I catch it, but land face-forward in the grass. Gabe calls to me from the top of the tree, saying that I had to get up.

Heather and I continue to catch apples until our baskets are full. I had lost count around twelve, but Heather counts my basket, too, and says that the four of us collected about fifty apples altogether.

Hunter frowns, complaining that we could have done better. Heather looks around for where we have to bring the baskets. And Gabe reaches down to eat another apple.

I see Aunt Katie call for Hunter and Heather. The two of them walk away from us, and we wave goodbye to them. Gabe and I start walking away to go look for where Mama is, but Hunter and Heather call to us again to say that we’re all going somewhere together.

Gabe and I are led in a car that has Lord Maxwell, Aunt Rowan, Duke Bertrand, Duchess Savannah, and Bartie. They tell us that everyone is headed to the same place, and that we would be celebrating Drake’s birthday.

“I wonder what Jessica has planned,” Maxwell wonders aloud.

“Probably cake?” Gabe asks.

“Naturally,” Maxwell replies. “But do you think there’s a chance she didn’t get balloons?”

“We can bring some!” I suggest. “In case Jessica forgot.”

“I like the way you think, baby blossom,” Maxwell says.

He crawls over towards the driver and asks him to bring us to a place we could get balloons. Duke Bertrand tries to stop Maxwell, but he refuses to sit down and the driver has already parked in front of a store.

Me and my brother follow Maxwell into the store, who goes straight to the counter.

“Do you have balloons?” he asks. There are balloon designs on display right on top of our heads, and I pull Maxwell’s sleeve and point at them. “Hmmm...” he stares at them for a while, then turns back to the person at the counter. “Do you maybe have a balloon that’s shaped like a whiskey bottle?”

“No, but I got champagne ones,” the old man says.

“Good enough, we’ll take ten,” Maxwell requests.

“Ten?” my brother and me ask in union.

“Do you think we should get more?” he turns to us and asks. “What if we get forty and say ‘Happy Fortieth Birthday’? He’s not forty yet but it would be funny.”

“I mean, I don’t know,” Gabe starts. “If Lady Jessica already got balloons, then bringing forty more would seem like a little too much.”

Maxwell sighs. “Fine.”

“Gabe is now the bossy blossom,” I point at my brother to announce.

“What? No—” he tries to protest.

“Are you gonna tell me not to call you bossy?” I question, crossing my arms in front of me.

“That would make you extra bossy,” Maxwell states.

“But—” he tries again.

“Stop being bossy, bossy blossom!” I cry.

Gabe turns away from me. Maxwell pats him on the head and says, “It’s okay, bossy blossom.”

Maxwell and I laugh while Gabe stares at the balloons.

We all hold three balloons, and Maxwell holds an extra one. When we get back into the car, Duchess Savannah and Aunt Rowan laugh, and I can tell that Duke Bertrand is upset, but he doesn’t say anything.

For the rest of the ride we punch the balloons at each other until we have to get out of the car. Aunt Rowan ties some balloons to my wrists because she was worried they would fly away.

When we enter, there’s a guy in a fancy suit who greets us.

“This is not the kind of establishment you bring childish balloons into,” Duke Bertrand whispers loudly to Maxwell.

The three of us ignore him and follow the fancy man through the restaurant until we reach a very big table. Everyone else is already seated, including Uncle Leo, Aunt Katie, Hunter, and Heather.

Except for the ones me, Gabe, and Maxwell hold, there are no balloons in the room. And there aren’t any decorations either.

“Happy Birthday, Drake!” Maxwell cries, walking over to where Drake was sitting.

“Tie ‘em to his chair,” Uncle Leo comments, pointing at the balloons.

While Maxwell works the knot of the balloon tied to my wrist, Drake grabs the string and pulls it close to his face. “You know these are champagne bottles, right?”

“Imagine that it’s whiskey,” Maxwell tells him.

I follow Gabe towards a few seats. I got to sit on Mama’s right, while Gabe was on Daddyo’s left, with the both of them in between us. Thankfully Heather was next to me. Gabe feels far from us, and when he tries to say something to me, I couldn’t really hear him. I wave at him to exaggerate the distance.

The adults talk steadily throughout the meal. Mama and Daddyo were sitting close to each other, mostly whispering. Countess Hana was talking with Maxwell and Aunt Rowan. Duke Bertrand laughed with Uncle Leo, and sometimes I saw Daddyo send looks in their direction.

As time went on I got more and more tired, and I wanted to ask Mama when they would finally cut the cake, but then Drake and Jessica stand to thank everyone for coming, and we all head outside.

“No cake?” I whisper at Gabe when we take a seat in Daddyo’s limo.

He shrugs. Mama and Drake join us in the car, and I wonder where Jessica is. I spend the drive back looking out at the streets we passed.

“Do you think they’re already done with the search?” Drake asks.

“Perhaps,” Daddyo answers. “I don’t believe it should have taken the entire day, especially if no one resisted.”

“Do you really think it could have been someone from the court?” asks Mama.

Daddyo shrugs. “I’m not sure. I certainly hope not.”

When we get out of the car, we see Lord Maxwell and everyone else walking into the big house. They wave at us, and we begin to follow, but someone walks up to Daddyo.

“Your Majesty,” the man says. “There is something you need to see.”

The five of us follow the man up the stairs and down dark hallways. I don’t even hear people talking, and the big house suddenly feels spooky.

The man leads us into Gabe’s room, where there’s Bastien and some other people in similar suits. Bastien stands over Gabe’s open suitcase, and he looks down at something on his bed.

“What is it?” Mama asks. She rushes forward to lean over the thing that Bastien was looking at, then gasps.

Drake and Daddyo follow Mama, and their faces frown when they inspect the object.

“I...” Mama tries to speak. “I saw this at the Met. Before the bomb went off.”

Gabriel and I look at each other, confused.

“What on Earth was it doing in Gabriel’s belongings?” Daddyo questions Bastien.

“I don’t know. We didn’t even know this was the prince’s room,” Bastien tells everyone. “My team believed it was the room of another Lord or Lady, so we decided to inspect it. We only realized it was His Highness’ room after we had already found the painting.”

What painting are they talking about? I turn to look at Gabriel, but his chin starts to shake. All the adults are still questioning each other, and since they aren’t really paying attention to me, I make my way over to the edge of Gabe’s bed to look at what the problem was.

It was a painting of a bunch of dancers. They were wearing bright-pink pointe shoes, and I figured they were ballerinas. The whole thing looks like it was recently painted, but I tap the painted flower in the painted girl’s hair, and my finger comes away dry.

“What’s the commotion?” Duchess Olivia comes into the room. She towers over me to look at the painting. When she looks back at everyone, she’s just as confused.

“This painting,” Mama begins to explain, “was in the Met the day of the bombing. The Dance Class. There was ash on it, and... look, they’ve painted over it to make it look new.” Mama points to certain places on the portrait.

“Weren’t the missing paintings around Europe connected to the incident at the Met?” Drake asks.

“They were,” Duchess Olivia speaks up. “And there was some evidence that the perpetrators were from Europe, but nothing came of it.”

“So that means it is someone at court,” Drake states.

“I’m still concerned as to how the painting got into Gabriel’s room,” Daddyo states.

“Mom, I didn’t do anything,” Gabe goes to our mother. Tears are falling down his face and he’s having a hard time breathing.

Mama holds his head in her hands. “Baby, I know you didn’t.”

She holds Gabriel while he cries. Duchess Olivia and Bastien continue their conversation.

“Everyone whose belongings were searched showed no suspicious behavior or resisted in any capacity,” Bastien tells us.

“Give me the names of whose rooms were checked,” Duchess Olivia demands. “I’ll have Jacob look into it.”

Gabe starts to cough roughly into Mama’s side. He tries to take in a breath, but a cough, vibrating from his chest, forces its way out. Gabriel’s face goes pink, and Daddyo and Bastien kneel in front of him.

“Your Majesty,” Bastien says. “Perhaps the prince should see a doctor.”

Daddyo’s focused on making sure Gabe can breathe, and once he’s calm and Mama wipes the tears from his face, Daddyo nods at Bastien.

“I’ll schedule an appointment for you early in the morning, Your Majesty.”

“C’mon, you two,” Mama says to us. “Let’s get you both to bed.”

...

Mama woke us up extra early again, but this time I wasn’t so tired. Her and Daddyo fussed over Gabe while we ate breakfast in a small dining room.

They brought me to the doctor’s office with them. I didn’t like that I was back in the hospital, but when we were brought to the waiting room, I was glad that I didn’t see any patients or sick people.

Once a nurse tells us that the doctor will be here in a few moments, Gabe comments, “I ate two whole apples yesterday but we still ended up at the doctor’s.”

Mama laughs. “Really?”

“That’s a lie,” I add in. “He ate three.”

“The extra apple didn’t save me,” he states.

The doctor arrives and shakes Mama’s and Daddyo’s hands. She says that she wants to bring Gabriel into another room to run some tests and ask some questions. Mama follows Gabe, and Daddyo and me are left in the waiting room.

“Is Gabe sick?” I ask him after Mama and Gabe have left.

“I’m sure your brother is fine. There’s nothing to worry about, angel.”

His phone rings, and I expect him to walk away and answer it, but he stays in his seat and talks. I spend the next few minutes walking around the waiting room, picking up magazines and staring up at the television. I grab three booklets from the stands and hand two of them to Daddyo, who is still on the phone.

He leans back in his seat and watches me flip through the magazines while talking. When I’ve gone through all of them and sniffed more than twelve perfume samples, he’s finally done with his call.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” I ask him. I was hoping that we could go to the movies again so we could all spend time together. Even though we had fun yesterday morning, the moments felt too short.

“The fox hunt is tomorrow. We’ll be visiting an ancient village.”

“We’re gonna hunt?!” I cry.

He gives a deep laugh. “No, no, we’ll just ride horses to get to a village.”

“Phew,” I voice, making him laugh again. “Wait, I don’t know how to ride a horse! Do you?”

“Yes. Perhaps after the baking contest today, I can teach you and your brother.”

I wanted to ask him what the baking contest was for, but the doctor finally comes back to tell us that we can come into the room now.

Gabe is sitting on the examination table, and Mama stands next to him. I take a seat next to the table and Daddyo stands next to the doctor.

“So I’ve taken a physical exam,” the doctor starts explaining, “and a lung function test. We’ve been able to determine that Gabriel has asthma.”

Mama and Daddyo both frown.

“How?” Mama asks. “He’s not allergic to anything, doesn’t have allergies...”

“Sometimes,” the doctor starts again, “asthma can be triggered in children by cold air, excessive exercise, or air pollutants.”

“Air pollutants?” Daddyo questions.

“Like tobacco smoke.” The doctor pretends to hold up a cigarette to her lips.

“Oh, God,” Mama whispers, putting her face in her hands.

“What is it?” Daddyo asks.

Mama lifts her head again. “Theo smoked. A lot. While I was pregnant and during Gabe’s first year. I think he only fully stopped before Ella was born.”

Daddyo’s mouth falls slightly agape and his eyebrows furrow.

“Well, that explains it,” the doctor states. “I’ll give you some treatment options so it doesn’t get worse, but if it does, make sure to give us a call.”

Gabriel jumps off of the examination table. We walk together out of the hospital and back into the car.

No one says anything while we drive back. Mama and Daddyo both seem tense. I want one of them to start talking, but I’m afraid to speak.

“I thought that Theo would go outside to smoke,” Mama finally says. “I didn’t even consider...” She trails off and puts her head back in her hands.

“Didn’t consider that you were putting my son in the care of a drug addict?” Daddyo says quickly. We all turn to him. He looks at Mama like he’s angry. I’ve never seen him or heard him like that. I don’t understand why talking about Daddy made him mad.

“What?”

“Instead of bringing him to me, where I could have kept him safe, you decide to bring my son into the hands of a stranger?”

“You’re saying that as if I had a choice.”

“You’ve always had a choice, Riley!”

“Not then, I didn’t—”

“You always did.” Their voices get louder. I think they’ve forgot that we’re still in the car with them. “If you had refused to depart with him, what was the worst that could have happened?”

Mama’s voice breaks. “I did refuse!”

“Truly? Look where we are now.”

“Do you really think that I left that day with no intention of coming back? I tried for years to convince Theo!”

Daddyo doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He looks away from Mama, but not at us, until he finally says, “Riley, we were the ones who had to bring you back, and that was when you were on death’s door.”

“So you’re assuming that I never even tried to come back?”

“Clearly, Riley, you didn’t!” he screams. “You told me that you traveled to Europe numerous times, but not once did you try to contact me.”

“I wasn’t allowed to!”

“So you voluntarily let that man determine my son’s health and your life?”

They’re both leaning forward in their seats. Mama looks like she’s ready to cry. I can’t tell how Daddyo’s feeling, but the tone of his voice kinda scares me.

“You’re blaming me for all this, aren’t you?” Mama asks. “He’s still just a kid, his asthma hasn’t gotten into anything worse—”

“And if it did? If it had gotten worse before we realized it? Tell me, Riley, what would have happened then?”

Mama pauses for a moment. She looks helpless. I want to hug her, but I was still too frightened to move a muscle.

Daddyo breathes out and leans forward, looking down at his shoes with his elbows on his legs.

“My father battled lung cancer for the last few years of his life,” he continues. “How do we know if Gabriel’s condition won’t worsen into something similar?”

“We can talk to the doctor about it,” Mama suggests in a small voice.

Daddyo doesn’t say anything. We all fall into silence again. I turn to look at Gabe, who seems like he’s trying to melt back into the seat. Craning my neck, I try to see what’s out the window, wondering how long it would take us to get back to the big house.

I turn to look at Mama. My mother’s face is slightly pink, and there are tears streaming down her face. I get up out of my seat to hug her, wrapping my arms around her waist, but she doesn’t react.

Daddyo looks at her, but he doesn’t have the same face on from when he usually talked to Mama. He looked mean and angry.

“What about Boris?” Daddyo speaks up. He turns to Mama again, but she just stares at him. “He was with Theodore when he forced you to leave New York?”

“Yes.”

Daddyo sighs and leans back in his seat. “Did he also forbid you from returning to Cordonia?”

“No,” Mama answers simply.

“So it was just Theodore?”

Silence again. Daddyo doesn’t look away from Mama.

“What did he say about me that... inspired you to leave?”

She doesn’t answer him.

Someone opens the door to the car. I didn’t even realize we had stopped driving. Mama wipes her tears and gets out of the car, rushing into the big house. As soon as Daddyo steps out, some people surround him and start talking to him. His expression changes quickly, and it’s almost like he was never mad.

Gabe and me get out of the car, and we follow people back towards the apple trees. My brother stays quiet, and I don’t try to talk to him, either. I knew the both of us were thinking about what had just happened.

When we reach the crowd of people, Lord Maxwell and Aunt Rowan call us over to them. “Baby blossoms! Come bake some apple pie with us!”

I ran over to them, hoping that the apple pies would make me feel better. Gabriel still walks slowly.

“Hey, Gabey,” Aunt Rowan says to him. “Everything okay?”

He shrugs. “They had a fight...”

“Who?” Lord Maxwell asks, putting down the knife he was using to cut apples.

“Mama and Daddyo,” I tell them.

“About what?”

Gabe shrugs again. “The doctor said that I have asthma, and then they started talking about... about Dad.”

“Aw,” Rowan says. She pulls Gabe into a hug.

“They’re both probably worried,” Maxwell wonders aloud. Him and Rowan give each other a look, but then we go back to making apple pie.

Lord Maxwell had forgotten to tell the judges that he wanted to be a part of the competition, so our pie was not judged, which meant that we got to eat the entire thing. Countess Hana and Lady Kiara’s pie won, and we cheered them on from the sidelines.

I didn’t see Daddyo for the rest of the day, and Lord Maxwell told us that he was probably really busy. I wanted to go find him and ask him to teach me how to ride a horse, but I was worried that he was still mad.

So instead, a little after sunset, Lord Maxwell brought me, Gabe, and Rowan to the stables and taught us about horses for a little bit. I learned how to sit and stay balanced, and was excited for the hunt tomorrow. I just hoped that Mama and Daddyo weren’t still mad at each other.

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kmomof4 · 5 years ago

Text

Today is the birthday of a dear friend in this fandom so I wanted to do something special for her!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @jonirobinson64!!!!!

We may not have been friends long, but you have become very dear to me in a short amount of time. So to commemorate the day of your birth, I wrote you a little something. I hope you enjoy it! All the love and thanks to @kymbersmith-90 for beta services!!!

Summary: This is a birthday fic for Joni, so it will include all her favorite things... or at least several of them...

Rating: M (smut)

Words: 2662

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Best Friends to Lovers

On ao3

Tag list: @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @snowbellewells @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @jennjenn615 @kingofmyheart14 @profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @branlovestowrite @ultraluckycatnd @flslp87 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @let-it-raines @shireness-says @kymbersmith-90 @darkcolinodonorgasm @bethacaciakay @searchingwardrobes @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @aprilqueen84 @qualitycoffeethings @superchocovian @artistic-writer @donteattheappleshook @doodlelolly0910 @seriouslyhooked @tiganasummertree @lfh1226-linda @nikkiemms @xsajx @klynn-stormz

Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

Under the cut unless Tumblr ate it.

High Confessions and What Came Next

Emma was having a great time blowing off steam with her friends after a “week from hell,” as Regina had called it. The drinks were flowing, the music was great, and the company was even better. It didn’t happen that often anymore, but all of her closest friends were able to make it to the bar tonight, and they were determined to make the most of it. Ruby and Graham gyrated on the dance floor, M’s was crushing David at darts (not that he minded), and even Regina and Robin had joined her and Killian in a tequila shooters game. Everyone was having a great time, until Walsh showed up.

He made his move when Killian went back to the bar to “procure them more libations,” which he’d said in that smooth accent of his that made all his words, not just the fancy ones, sound ultra-sexy.

As soon as Killian had disappeared through the crowd, Walsh had approached. He came up behind her, placing his hands on her hips and nearly grinding himself into her backside. He must have taken her startled gasp as arousal because he then nuzzled into her neck while whispering huskily in her ear. “Come on, baby…”

But he got no farther. Twisting herself out of his grasp, she held up a hand, pushing him away from her. He tried to draw her to him again with what he must have thought was a sultry smirk.

“Get your hands off me,” she shouted, “Didn’t anyone ever teach you to keep your hands to yourself?”

“Why would you want me to do that,” he retorted, with a lazy drawl, “when you’re over here teasing every guy in the place with that dress and all that skin on display?” His eyelids dropped, giving him a sleepy, half awake look rather than the sexy one he was probably going for.

“How I’m dressed when I’m out with my friends for an evening of fun is none of your damn business. And I suggest you take your attentions elsewhere, unless you want to become intimately acquainted with at least one part of my body, though definitely not the one you were hoping for.” She looked down at her other fist as if she was examining a recent manicure. “Get the picture?” She looked back up at him coolly, hoping that her hammering heartbeat at the fright he had given her wasn’t obvious on her face.

She was stunned when he reached for her again. “Ooooo, so you like it rough, baby? Well, I can give you what you want.”

Suddenly, a familiar hand landed on her harasser’s shoulder and spun him away from her.

“I believe the lady said to keep your hands off,” Killian all but growled at the man.

Walsh sneered back at him, “And I don’t believe I asked you. Stick your nose someplace else. She’s coming with me.”

Killian looked down at the floor with a chuckle. “I’m glad you think so, mate.” Quick as lightning, his fist appeared out of nowhere and landed squarely in the middle of Walsh’s face. Blood poured as Walsh staggered back, his hands cupping his shattered nose.

Killian moved toward Emma, her color a little better than it was when he first emerged from the crowd with their fresh drinks. “Are you alright, Love?” he asked, grasping her upper arm gently. Pain shot through his knuckles as he did. He released her with a hiss and looked down at the rapidly bruising area.

“We need to go get that looked at, Killian,” she murmured. “You might have some broken bones in there.”

“From Walsh’s nose? Impossible.”

Emma gave him a skeptical look. “The only time I’ve ever seen bruising happen that fast was from a broken bone. Let’s go.” Killian sputtered, trying to protest that he was fine, but she was having none of it. She turned him toward the bar and pushed him ahead of her. Jefferson had seen the whole thing and was waiting for them with an ice pack all ready to go. “Thanks, Jeff,” she said, relieving him of the pack.

Killian placed it on his knuckles and allowed his Swan to lead him out the door.

~*~*~

Emma helped her sometimes idiotic, most-of-the-time sweet, always a gentleman best friend through the front door of their apartment. He was pretty loopy from the painkillers they’d given him in the ER after he put that douche Walsh in his place.

It was a good thing that her job as a bail bondswoman kept her in shape. She all but carried him into the apartment before heading down the hall towards his bedroom. He was so stoned she knew that once she sat him down, he wouldn’t be moving until morning. So she was determined to deposit him in his bed, where he’d at least be comfortable.

She tried to stifle her giggle as he nuzzled into her neck, much as Walsh had done earlier, sniffing her hair and letting out a contented hum, his breath warm on her skin. She shivered with awareness, not minding his attention at all.

Of course, she’d always been aware of how handsome he was, but her attraction had been buried underneath the prickly armor she wore around everyone but her family and closest friends. By nature of their roommate status however, Killian quickly joined that elite circle of people. Emma kept her heart guarded, not trusting anyone easily, so she could count her friends on one hand. It hadn’t taken Killian long to demolish her walls with his easy charm and laid back, gentleman-like tendencies. When they had shared their pasts with each other one evening, when Netflix had failed to keep their attention, she had seen how similar they really were. Emma had handed over her heart and never looked back. She just neglected to tell him that.

But now, after removing his shirt and pants, and as she tried to maneuver him under the comforter of his bed, (he made his bed every. Single. Morning. How? she thought, shaking her head.) his unbandaged hand shot out and grabbed her. He pulled just enough to make her tumble into his bed, halfway on top of him. “Ah, now that’s better,” he murmured, encircling her in his arms. She stared down into his half-lidded, so blue eyes... eyes that she could easily drown in.

“What’s better?” she whispered.

The haze in his eyes lifted just enough that she could see the seriousness in his gaze. “Having you here. In my arms. In my bed.”

“What?” She was floored. Was it possible that he wanted her too?

“You heard me, Swan.” He tightened his arms around her slightly. “Will you stay?”

“I’ll just be in the next room if you need anything, Killian.”

“No, not there, Swan. Here. With me.”

Her tongue flicked out, moistening her lips. “Let me go get a few things and I’ll stay,” she replied. “I’ll always stay.”

“Mmmmmmm,” he hummed, apparently appeased with her answer.

She pulled out of his arms and got him situated in the bed before going to the kitchen to get a glass of water for later, when he’d take another dose of the pain meds, and an ice pack to wrap around his badly bruised knuckles. Entering her own bedroom, she changed into her pajamas before heading back to his. She opened the door to find him dead to the world, gently snoring. She leaned against the door jamb and let her eyes roam over him to her heart’s content. His black hair was tousled and flopping down over his face, his bare chest on display, his bandaged hand on top of the covers. She moved toward him, debating whether she should actually sleep in his bed with him tonight. His confession notwithstanding, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep her hands to herself once she fell asleep. What if she cuddled up to him? What if he woke to find her there? Would he even remember his request? And if he did, what would happen then? What would happen to them?

She crawled into the other side of his bed, justifying her behavior by telling herself that since she was such a heavy sleeper she would be unlikely to hear him if he woke unless she was next to him. After wrapping his hand in the ice pack, she lay down on her side to face him, stroking her fingers lightly along his forehead before burying them in his silken hair.

“I love you, Killian,” she whispered, before she fell into dreams.

~*~*~

Killian awoke the next morning with an aching hand and a warm body pressed along his side. Looking down, his face was buried in a cloud of spun gold. He inhaled deeply before withdrawing slightly to see the love of his life cuddled up to him, her head on his shoulder, her arm splayed across his torso. His arm was wrapped around her, holding her close to his heart, the place she’d lived for nearly as long as he had known her. She stirred in his arms, burying her face in his chest where her drool had collected as she slept. He chuckled as her eyes scrunched in annoyance before opening and meeting his own.

Green pools that he would happily drown in stared up at him. Her mouth fell slightly open as her eyes scanned his face and she took in every emotion that he was powerless to hide in the early morning.

“What do you remember from last night?” she asked in a whisper.

Not exactly what he was expecting her to say in their current position.

“Uhh…” he gaped at her. There was no other word for it. But he wanted to answer her question before she realized exactly where she was and pulled back from him. He searched his memory. He remembered arriving at the bar with Emma, doing his damndest to keep his thoughts and his hands in the friend zone instead of where they could quite easily go if he wasn’t careful. He remembered tequila shots with Emma, Regina, and Robin. He remembered punching that wanker, Walsh, after he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He remembered Swan taking him to the Emergency Room, afraid that he might have broken his hand. After that though, things started to get a little fuzzy. He vaguely remembered Emma helping him into bed and her falling on top of him briefly when getting him under the sheets proved difficult. “I remember our evening at the bar and coming home after the ER. After that, it’s pretty hazy around the edges.” He grinned at her somewhat sheepishly.

“Do you remember asking me to stay with you?”

“Did I?’

“Yes. You asked me to stay with you here, in your bed.” Bless his dear Swan. Her eyes were wide in her panic and he could feel her heart beating rapidly against his rib cage. “You said it was better.”

Killian scrambled to lighten the tense mood that had fallen at her words. He wiggled his eyebrows, the action never failed at getting an eye roll out of her, as he hugged Emma tighter to his side. “Having you here in my bed is always better, Swan. But I can think of some other, more enjoyable, activities that a bed is also good for- besides sleeping, I mean.” Emma looked down, blushing prettily. He maneuvered his injured hand under her chin and raised it until she was looking at him again. “But only if you’re amenable, darling. I may not remember exactly what I said last night, but I can assure you that I want nothing more than for you to share my bed and my life. Just as you’ve shared my heart for years.”

Tears glistened in her eyes. “You’ve held my heart in your hands for years, Killian. And I would be very much amenable,” she replied, in a horrible attempt at his accent, “to share your bed and your life.” She lifted her hand to caress his jaw. “I love you, Killian Jones.”

“And I love you, Emma Swan.”

Words were no longer necessary as he pulled her up to meet his lips. His uninjured hand buried itself in her hair as the other rubbed up and down her back. His tongue traced the seam of her lips before she opened, allowing him to deepen the kiss. A moan tore itself from the back of her throat as their tongues tangled in a dance they had both desired for so long.

Her own hands were by no means idle. She felt the planes of his chest under her fingers and nearly giggled in delight when he tried to squirm away from her touch as she had apparently found a ticklish spot on his ribs. Their kiss broke and Killian pressed open mouth kisses along her jaw and down her neck as she threw her head back in ecstasy. Heat built in her core when he latched onto her pulse point and gave a firm, but not too painful, suck, marking her as his for all the world to see.

His hands continued their explorations, settling at her breasts where he kneaded and plucked at her nipples until they were hard points, begging for his mouth. She raised herself from his chest and straddled him, his prominent erection hitting her just where she needed him. She ground down, staring at the man she loved, his own eyes nearly black with love and desire. Desire for her. She didn’t think she’d ever get tired of him looking at her like this, as if there was nothing in the world he could possibly want or need more than her.

“Oh, Swan,” he moaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. He reached for her again and pulled himself upright, surrounding her in his strength and his scent. “Lift up, darling.” His hands pushed her pajama bottoms and panties down as she kneeled in front of him. She wiggled them the rest of the way off as Killian made short work of his boxer briefs. “I hope I helped some when you undressed me last night, Swan,” he cooed at her, waggling his eyebrows again.

She rolled her eyes at him. “You were mostly out of it, but it wasn’t too hard,” she quipped.

She straddled him again and stared into his eyes before lowering her mouth to his in a sweet kiss. She melted into his embrace as passion made way for gentle tenderness in their lovemaking. Soft touches, whispered endearments, and breathless sighs filled the room as they both kissed, sucked, and nibbled all of the secret places known only to lovers. He thrust his hips into hers, coating himself in her juices as he drove her higher and higher. Rising up, she lowered herself onto him, the slight burn as she stretched around him making her gasp in pleasure. She nearly sobbed as he bottomed out within her. She had never felt so complete, so at home, as she did right at this moment. She never wanted it to end.

Killian’s own groan reached her ears as he started to move within her. “Emma, oh, Emma. How I love you, darling.” He captured her lips in a fiery kiss and tilted her back until she was flat on the mattress, driving into her at a frenzied pace.

“Yes, Killian, yes!” she screamed. “Right there! Oh god!” she cried, falling apart in his arms. Killian pumped into her just a few more times before he joined her in an earth-shattering release.

Emma held her love to her, content to feel his weight on her for a few moments more. He sighed deeply before rolling off and drawing her close. “You’d better be sure about this, Swan, because it’s too late for me. I’ll follow you to the end of the world. Or time.”

“Mmmmmm,” she hummed. “Good.”

The End

#krystal writes #high confessions and what came next #happy birthday joni #bday fic #for jonirobinson64

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stahlop · 5 years ago

Text

Making a Memory (5/?)

Well, here we are. Chapter 5. This chapter was a beast to write. Hopefully, you'll be satisfied with the answers this chapter provides.

Thanks again to my betas, @profdanglaisstuff and @thisonesatellite. I thought they were going to hack this chapter with a machete. Turns out, they wanted me to add a bit more. So that was amazing to hear.

Check out the banner artwork by @gingerchangeling. There is also artwork by @mariakov81 at the end of this chapter.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1 2 3 4

Ao3

Defeating Gideon had been surprisingly easy, if Emma called sacrificing herself and hoping to God and any other gods that were around that her sacrifice meant she would get to live her Happy Beginning with her family and new husband, despite having just been stabbed in the gut. And thank goodness it was True Love’s Kiss worthy, because Emma really hadn’t wanted to die. And considering that was the final battle, she felt it was the least scary out of everything they’d had to face in the past. The Black Fairy just preened and monologued most of the time, while Gideon had his heart stolen, so she couldn’t blame him for him wanting to kill her (she had immediately asked Belle to put a protection spell on his heart, like Regina had with Henry and she had with Hook after their hearts had been taken, which Belle readily agreed to).

But now life was… well it was normal. And normal was not something Emma Swan-Jones (yes, she was hyphenating) had seen in the past few years. And it was... strange. It was strange living a perfectly normal life with Captain Hook as her husband, who insisted on using the iPad to find healthy recipes for dinner since he knew she would eat Pop Tarts or bear claws for breakfast and Granny’s for lunch. It was weird seeing him just lounging about in sleep pants on the weekends when they weren’t working (thankfully, David still worked weekends for them so they could have time for themselves along with the actual Three Musketeers spread throughout the week, who made pretty good deputies), or taking her and Henry out on the Jolly Roger to go fishing, or any other number of domestic fantasies she’d once had about idyllic life in Maine. What wasn’t strange was after a year of domestic bliss when the stick had shown the words ‘pregnant’ and she hadn’t freaked out about it whatsoever.

Because there hadn’t been any danger in over a year, which was the longest the town had gone since she’d arrived. Nothing, nada, zero, zip, zilch. Just some bad dreams which was to be expected after everything they’d gone through in such a short amount of time. And which had made her and Killian a little more carefree. It wasn’t as if they were getting any younger. She was pushing 32 and Killian was… well, they’d agreed he’d be 36 according to the paperwork Regina had magically made for him. Killian hadn’t taken kindly to being on the closer end of 40, but Emma had insisted that it just made him more worldly, and if they did ever venture outside of Storybrooke, he could freely talk about things he had done in context with his age. And now parenthood was going to be part of that.

“When does it get to the good stuff?” Hope huffed, interrupting Henry’s reading of the epilogue of his book. They were sitting in a tent in the woods only a few miles from where Henry was going to meet their parents later that day. Alice seemed to be having the time of her life, completely enthralled with the sequel to her favorite book, which seemed to be the real life account and love story of their parents and the defeat of multiple villains, until the final battle happened three years after Henry brought her to town. She’d read it the entire drive to the campsite and Hope had discovered she was a very enthusiastic reader. She constantly yelled or gasped or cried at something that happened in the book. Hope had gotten a chance to read much of it last night and the rest when the sunlight filtered into their tent that morning. She’d always been an early riser, unlike her mother and Henry. Hope had to admit it had been a fun adventure tale, (although the first few chapters chronicling the first year Emma had been in the town of Storybrooke had been pretty boring and in the last few chapter everyone seemed wildly out of character), but she wasn’t sure if she actually believed this was a true account of anything, like Alice and Henry did. Henry had insisted that he read the final chapter to them together, so they could understand what had happened.

“Not every chapter needs to be action packed or full of chase scenes.” Henry admonished her. “Besides, don’t you want to hear about what happened after your parents' Happy Beginning?” Alice clapped giddily while Hope rolled her eyes. Henry had always been a bit dramatic growing up, but Hope still couldn’t wrap her head around this whole fairytale business Henry was trying to sell her.

Killian was ecstatic to learn he was going to be a father. Although, after everything he’d been through, the thought of having a child was a little daunting. He’d never imagined he would ever become a father. Of course, he and Milah had discussed it, but having a baby while being a pirate would never have worked. Once she had died he’d never even considered it until he met Emma. And now it had finally come to pass that he was being given the opportunity to become a father. He already knew having a child would be the greatest adventure he’d have in his life.

Of course, when the ultrasound indicated they were not only having a girl, but two of them, Killian’s head went a little fuzzy and he had to sit down with his head between his legs so he wouldn’t pass out (Emma had teased him about it for days after and brought it up to everyone they came across).

Twins!

They were having twins. When he’d finally got his head on straight he picked Emma up in his arms (again reminding her he’d carried rum barrels bigger than her) and twirled her around. He was excited, so excited. Not only was he going to get the chance to be a father, but he’d get to do it twice in one go! His dreams quickly became consumed by little girls with his hair and Emma’s eyes, or Emma’s hair and his eyes. They’d be sailing, play sword fighting, drawing, all the things he wanted to teach them. They quickly agreed on names for the two girls. Alice for his mother and Hope because of everything they had gone through and the hope that had gotten them through. Emma had insisted that they use the names Cleo and Margaret for middle names, to honor two influential women in her life. So, from then on, Baby A became Alice Margaret, and Baby B was Hope Cleo. For the next few months everything was complete bliss.

When Emma hit her third trimester, her mother, knowing that twins could come early, insisted on hosting Emma a baby shower. Emma agreed on the condition that it was a small affair. No grand balls or carnivals like she was wont to do. And so, on a sweltering hot day in early September, Emma entered Granny’s which had been closed down just for them, to find a large group of women waiting for her. Snow had stayed true to her word and not invited the whole town. Emma was relieved to see many familiar faces, including Ruby and Dorothy who had used the ruby slippers to come to the event, Belle who had brought a two-year-old baby Gideon with her (even though it still freaked Emma out slightly that this tiny child had once tried to kill her), Ashley and Aurora with their broods (they had both added one more child over the past few years), Elsa and Anna, and even Mulan had made the trip, though her girlfriend, Merida, had refused the invitation, Emma couldn’t blame her since she’d only known Emma when she was dark.

Things had been going great. Regina had made her lasagna, much to Granny’s chagrin. Zelena was even giving helpful tips despite Emma having sped up her pregnancy (she reminded Emma that she had done midwifery research when she’d first come to town). It was nice that everyone in town was actually getting along despite the terrifying last few years. Emma really shouldn’t have been surprised when it all went to hell.

Alice gasped so loudly that Hope actually jumped from her seated position on the tent. Her heart had immediately started pounding in her chest.

“Geez, Alice!” Hope said perturbed. “Lighten up. It’s just a story.”

“It’s not just a story.” Alice argued. “We’re reading about our mother. If anything, you should be the one more concerned as you got to actually grow up with her.” She sniffled as her anger gave way to tears. Hope almost wanted to roll her eyes, but she knew how strongly Alice felt about this all being real. Hope still wasn’t sure what Henry’s endgame was here, but she did know that she and Alice were sisters. She knew that with every fiber of her being. But Snow White and Prince Charming were their grandparents? The Evil Queen had cast a spell to bring them all to their land to get her happy ending? Their mother was married to Captain Hook (considering Alice knew her father had a false hand, she seemed quite surprised that’s who their father turned out to be), a former villain turned hero? It all seemed a bit much. She hoped there would be a simpler explanation somewhere down the road, but she was determined to let Henry play out his little fantasy for the time being until he brought their parents to them later that day.

“I’m sorry.” Hope sighed, placating Alice. “Please continue, Henry.”

A swirl of golden smoke appeared in front of them. Emma immediately went on the defensive, a ball of white light forming in her hand. She could see Regina conjuring a fireball at the strange plume of smoke and out of the corner of her eye she saw Granny duck behind the counter for her crossbow.

As the figure in the smoke came into view, Emma took in the mass of dark curls framing an olive face from under a black hood. The woman had big eyes with heavy lids and red lips that almost put Ruby’s to shame. Her burgundy gown seemed out of place for the modern town of Storybrooke, in that it looked like it belonged more in Camelot than even the Enchanted Forest. It was trimmed in the exact same shade of gold that her swirl of smoke had been. Emma realized she’d been staring too long at the woman who had just crashed her baby shower, but she had the overwhelming sensation thrumming through her body that she knew this woman somehow.

“Who are you and what do you want?” Emma growled at the woman who had made no attempt to do anything after her grand entrance. The room had gone impossibly quiet. Even the children who had attended with their mothers weren’t making a peep. Granny still stood behind the counter, crossbow in hand, but she too wasn’t making any comments. Regina still had a fireball ready to go, it’s fire crackling at her fingertips, but nothing else happened.

“I’ve slowed down time.” The woman said with a deep voice, one that seemed as soothing as a lullaby, but chilled Emma to the bone. The voice seemed familiar to her as well, although she couldn’t recall from where. “They can’t perceive what we are doing right now, but that’s why they’re not responding to me and only you know what’s going on.” The woman smirked at her. Emma had the impression she was supposed to be impressed.

She wasn’t.

“I’m only going to ask you one more time.” Emma said, using all her strength to pull her hand back, a ball of magic swirling within. Her other hand instinctively went over her stomach to shield her children. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“Oh, my sweet dear.” The woman said in what Emma assumed was supposed to be a motherly tone. It sounded sweet and calming, but Emma could hear the evil lurking underneath. “Haven’t your dreams told you why I’m here yet?”

A cold chill ran down Emma’s spine as she realized how she knew this woman. She’d been in her dreams! Floating above her, the woman would chase her through the streets of Storybrooke threatening to take something from her. Something that would…. make the woman stronger, if she recalled the dream correctly.. Emma had dismissed it as an anxiety dream; the woman representing any number of villains that could spring up and ruin her happiness. But here she was, in the flesh, and already Emma had failed to protect anyone around her.

“You asked why I was here.” The woman said, her voice suddenly going from calm and soothing to cold and calculating. It now sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Emma’s ears and she couldn’t suppress another shiver that ran down her body. The woman gave a simpering smile at her. It made Emma sick to her stomach. She still had her magic at the ready though. She was not giving this woman an inch.

“My name is Gothel…”

“Like from Rapunzel?” Emma spoke without even thinking. Gothel turned to her slightly frazzled from Emma’s outburst, but schooled her features back to the smile that creeped Emma out to no end.

“I have never bartered a child for greens, nor kept one in my tower. Nor have I kept a child in my tower to keep my youth.” She said menacingly, her face pinched. “Yes, I have done my research into what your realm thinks of me.” Gothel’s features changed back to look like a woman who would dote on a child rather than hold one against their will. “I am simply an ordinary elemental witch. Content to commune with the four elements and let them use me for what they need.”

Emma did not miss what she had said.

“And what do the elements need?” Emma was quickly losing her patience. And she had to pee. Two babies didn’t leave a lot of room for her bladder.

Gothel smiled at her. “I knew you’d understand.” She practically purred. “It’s not what they need, Emma dear, but what they have told me. Some very disturbing things they have told me, and unfortunately for you, it means that your children are a danger to me.” Her blue-gray eyes flashed almost black. She slowly made her way up behind Emma and spoke directly into her ear. “This is not a warning, this is an absolute truth. Enjoy what little time you and your children will have together, because I will not let the whispers come true.” And with that Gothel poofed out of the diner in her golden smoke.

Immediately, the patrons of the party sprang back to life, almost speeding up comically. Everyone looked around for whomever had come from the golden smoke, but all they saw was Emma crumpling to the ground holding her stomach and sobbing.

Alice gasped as Henry read the last part and grabbed Hope’s hand, as if the move would comfort her as well. Hope was in no need of comforting. She just wanted to get to the end of the story so she could understand. The story was taking place in early September and Hope knew they were born in late September so there was no suspense if this was supposed to be about their birth. She knew her mother was alive and well, so she knew nothing bad was going to happen to her. This all just seemed... redundant.

She could see Henry staring at her, gauging her reaction. Alice seemed close to tears and Hope couldn’t understand why. She’d never even met her mother.

“So what is this evil supposed to represent, an almost miscarriage? We were born, so obviously everything is okay.” She rolled her eyes at both Henry’s eagerness and Alice’s sadness.

“Wow!” said Henry with a shocked expression that then turned into a smile. “You really are just like mom. She didn’t believe me either.” He looked back down at the book, preparing to continue reading. “Don’t worry, the interesting part is coming up.”

Being at the hospital, not knowing what was happening to her or her babies was the scariest thing Emma had ever faced in her life. And that was saying a lot considering everything she’d faced. But she wouldn’t know how to even look at Killian if they lost their girls. The men had gone out on the Jolly Roger during the party, taking a pleasure cruise, so to speak, so Regina had to poof out to them to let them know what had happened. Killian came rushing into her room, and grabbed her hand, and a fresh wave of tears spilled down her face.

The barrage of questions came from his lips immediately. “Are you okay? Are the babies okay? What did the doctor say? What happened? Is there a new villain? Are you okay?” It actually made Emma’s heart sing, the level of concern he had for her.

“I think I’m okay, same with the babies. Whale just assessed me to make sure I had nothing external wrong. We’re going to do an ultrasound to make sure the babies are good.” She paused for a moment, dragging his hand to her cheek, something that always soothed her. “It seems there is a new villain in town. Her name is Gothel.” He quirked an eyebrow since she had shown him Tangled. Gothel had not been anyone he’d ever come across in his travels, so they’d figured she’d been made up for the story. “She said our babies are a danger to her and she won’t let whatever is supposed to happen, happen. She said this wasn’t a warning. Just the truth.” Her voice started to waiver again.

Killian pressed a kiss to her forehead as she let the tears fall again. How many times was she going to put him through this? How many times was there going to be danger that he could do nothing to prevent from happening? But instead of comforting her some more or telling her everything would be okay like he was prone to do, he stood up, his body vibrating with anger, his hand pulled away and fisted on his jeans.

“I’m going to talk to the Blue Fairy.” He said suddenly. “After Whale tells us that the girls are alright, because they are going to be alright, Swan. This...Gothel... wouldn’t have told you that they’d be a danger to her if they weren’t going to be okay. This was a scare tactic. An intimidation. And I will not have my family worried about some impending doom. We’ve come too far for this to happen now.” Emma reached for his hook and pulled him toward her.

“Just stay with me for now. We’ll worry about this when we know everything is alright.”

But according to the Blue Fairy it wasn’t alright.

“Well, she’s definitely more than an elemental witch.” Emma and Killian stood in the Blue Fairy’s office, which was covered with large tomes, smaller books, and even a few scrolls.

“So you’ve heard of her then?” Killian asked darkly.

“Yes and no. She goes by many names, Gothel being one of them. Gothel actually means godmother and being an elemental witch means she’s most likely descended from a forest nymph or dryad. Possibly even from Gaia herself.” Emma saw Killian immediately get a worried look on his face.

“I take it Gaia is bad?” Emma asked, suddenly feeling the weight of not finishing high school or going to college coming back to rear its ugly head at her. Killian grimaced and she could see him thinking of the best way to tell her what she was not understanding.

“Gaia means earth in Greek.” He stated plainly. It didn’t take Emma nearly as long to figure out what that meant as she thought it would.

“Wait! You think Gothel is descended from Mother Earth?” she exclaimed.

“I think she’s exactly who she says she is,” the Blue Fairy said before Emma could spiral out. “But I think she’s a lot more powerful than she’s letting on.” She paused and gave a sigh before continuing on. “I found a prophecy in an old book. Probably as old as me. I think it’s the prophecy that Gothel is alluding to, but I need to study it first before I decide if it actually pertains to you. I don’t want to mislead you or give you false hope or false terror if it’s not the correct one.”

Emma wanted to rip the paper out of the Blue Fairy’s to read what it said. She could feel Killian tense up next to her, most likely thinking the same thing. But she calmed herself. How many times had she ‘jumped to conclusions’ before examining all the evidence first? It was one of her biggest flaws when she first started sheriffing and she wasn’t going to start doing it again. She took a deep breath to calm herself.

“Okay.” Emma said, squeezing Killian’s hand to let him know that they needed to let the Blue Fairy do her job. “We’ll trust your judgement. Just let us know as soon as possible so we can come up with some sort of a plan. In the meantime,” Emma said, turning toward Killian. “I’ll put a protection spell around our house, the bug, and the sheriff station.” She turned back to the Blue Fairy. “Do you know of any protection spells we can use on ourselves or the twins?”

The Blue Fairy shook her head. “Unfortunately, protection spells can only protect objects and people within them. And you know from personal experience that they aren’t one-hundred percent effective.” The Blue Fairy said. Emma nodded, remembering her experience with Regina and her mother, Cora, in Gold’s shop years ago.

“Here.” The Blue Fairy said, conjuring up some chalk and pressing it into her hands. “This might help. It’s infused with fairy dust. It may look like glittery chalk, but it’ll have a little more kick to it than a spell and regular chalk.” Emma squeezed it and mouthed a silent ‘thanks’ to the Blue Fairy. Killian gave a slight bow.

“Thank you Lady Blue.” he said before they turned and left.

Hope was about to scream into her pillow. She checked her watch, noting that there was another hour before Henry had to leave to meet her mother and Alice’s father. She wondered if this epilogue would ever get to the point. She still had no clue why she and Alice had been separated and why their ‘parents’ didn’t remember each other. This whole thing was getting more and more absurd by the moment. Now Gothel had been brought into it? She remembered seeing that movie as a kid and not really thinking that Gothel had been a subpar villain compared to some of the other Disney villains out there. She knew in the real version the witch had no purpose for taking the baby except in trade. But in Henry’s version it was seeming like she had no real connection except for a random prophecy. Now she felt like they were veering into Harry Potter territory.

Henry must have sensed her frustration, again, because he paused his reading to stare at her. “I promise, Hope, this will all make sense soon,” was all he said before diving back into the book.

Emma and Killian spent the next few weeks in fear. The twins weren’t due until mid-October and they had no idea if Gothel would come around again. Both Emma and Killian, plus the Blue Fairy, Regina, Gold and David had been trying to figure out where Gothel had come from and how she had gotten into Storybrooke. Once they realized that the waters that came from the well were the same waters in Lake Nostos, Tiny had managed to take some of the burned beans he’d saved from years ago and restore them. They now had plenty of beans to make portals to go all over the realms again, but they were highly regulated by David, Snow, and Regina. People in Storybrooke could travel by portal, but, as far as anyone in town knew, no one from any other realm could travel to them. Usually someone from Storybrooke took a portal to the other realm, gave them a bean and took another portal home. They didn’t want beans falling into the wrong hands and becoming a black market trade item again. Of course, there always seemed to be beans regardless. But, there were only a few select people who knew about Storybrooke. How in the world would Gothel know about them and how in the world would she find them?

While everyone else was working on the Gothel problem, Killian had discovered online that some really rare phenomena were going to be happening in the night sky. “There a Harvest Moon tonight!” he yelled animatedly. “I wonder if it will be orange like a true Harvest Moon or red like the Blood Moon?” Emma loved when he got passionate about astronomy, the man who was once guided by the stars. “It’s also a Super Moon,” He said almost in a teacher-like voice, “because it’s so close to your realm. And….” he paused for what Emma assumed he felt was an even more amazing discovery “It’s also a lunar eclipse!” Killian grinned widely. “Even in my hundreds of years, Swan, I’ve never seen anything like this!”. Emma could only hope that she’d be able to stay awake for it.

Killian had just started cooking an early dinner so they could just gaze at the night sky when the first contraction hit.

“Are you okay, Emma?” Killian dropped the mixing spoon and ran over to her.

“I…I think I just had a contraction.” Emma was concerned. The babies weren’t due for another month, but she also knew twins could come early.

“Do we need to head to the hospital?” Killian asked, clearly nervous and concerned.

“No.” She said, kissing him on the cheek. “Water hasn’t even broken yet. Let’s have dinner. Lord knows they won’t let me eat in the hospital while I’m in labor.” Emma was surprised at how calm she was over this. Considering the last time she’d given birth she’d been chained to the bed and not even taken a look at Henry, she was feeling very empowered. Being in charge of her pregnancy the way she wanted to be had a way of doing that. They sat down to eat for their last meal as a family of two (Henry was at Regina’s, but they’d both be at the hospital when they felt it was time to go), when the contractions started ramping up.

“I think it’s time to head to the hospital.” Emma said. Killian grabbed the go bag that they’d packed and headed to his old Jeep Cherokee they’d bought on a trip to Boston.

“That’s what kind of car Papa drives!” Alice exclaimed, interrupting Henry just as the tension was getting good.

Henry smiled at her. Hope was feeling something akin to anticipation. She felt like they were finally getting somewhere in the story with their impending births. She knew that had to reveal something.

“Are you alright, Hope?” Henry asked, concerned. “You’ve been really quiet.”

“I just want to finish the book!” She said through gritted teeth. She really needed to know how this pertained to them, and all of Alice’s disruptions were starting to grate on her nerves.

Henry nodded at her and Alice and continued.

Alice Margaret Swan-Jones arrived at 9:07 on September 27th, 2015. The lights flickered around the hospital on Emma’s final push. Whale had been concerned (once Alice had been bundled up and placed in Emma’s arms) that it could have been Gothel, but Emma assured him that it was most likely her magic, and that the same thing had happened when Henry was born, only she hadn’t been aware it was her magic at the time.

There was a perfect view of the eclipse from the window in their room. Emma and Killian watched as the almost blood red moon traveled across the sky and then disappeared when it was caught in the Earth’s shadow. Emma was glad she had this rare occurrence, plus her new daughter to keep her mind busy while she waited for her other daughter to make her appearance. Hope seemed to be taking her time, and it was making Emma nervous. She knew she could ask Killian to invite Henry and her parents and any other number of people who were anxiously awaiting updates into her room to meet Alcie, but she really wanted to wait until both babies were out. Whale had also started talking about a c-section if Hope didn’t make her presence known soon, as twins usually were born within minutes of each other, not hours. Right as the moon started to peak out from the shadow of the Earth, a huge contraction hit Emma again. It seemed Hope was finally ready.

Hope Cleo Swan-Jones was welcomed into the world at 12:27 on September 28th, 2015. Emma and Killian were astounded when they realized that their girls were born on separate days, but they were just thrilled that they were safe and healthy. Emma had almost hoped her relatives and friends had gone home instead of waiting around, but they were all there, ready to see the newest additions to the Swan-Jones clan.

Henry insisted he be the first to see his new sisters, followed by Snow and David. Even Regina was permitted to hold them, something Emma could see she cherished, being allowed to be part of their family. It was almost three in the morning by the time everyone started to filter out and the Blue Fairy arrived, a look of despair written on her face.

“What is it?” Killian immediately asked. He had Alice in his arms and hugged her protectively.

“The prophecy is as I feared.” She looked down at the floor, almost as if the prophecy she suspected belonged to them was her fault.

“How can you be sure?” Emma asked. She had been drowsy just a few seconds ago, but now it was if caffeine had been put into her IV drip.

The Blue Fairy pulled out a thin piece of parchment from thin air and handed it to them. It was written in an elegant script, something Emma would associate more with a love letter rather than a prophecy.

When the moon becomes red with blood,

And darkness covers the land

Two will be born.

One ere the witching hour and one hind

To conquer nature’s sinister conjurer

By separation will make stronger

And reconciled on the day and night the true harvest moon meets.

Emma read through it several times, not quite understanding. Her mind was swimming from the events of the day and that adrenaline jolt she’d just had was now coming down. She was desperate to know and understand, but she just couldn’t focus at the moment.

“Killian, take Hope.” And she immediately passed out.

“Is it over?” Hope wondered, thinking that was an odd place to end the epilogue.

“Almost.” said Henry, but before continuing on he asked, “Did you understand the prophecy?”

Hope thought about it. “The moon becoming red with blood and the darkness is obviously the Harvest Moon and lunar eclipse,” she said.

“And the witching hour is usually midnight.” Alice interjected. “So it’s saying one would be born before midnight and the other after, just like we were.” But I’m not sure about the rest.” Alice frowned.

“Well then.” Henry said, noting that there were only a few pages left until the book was finished. “Let’s see what we can find out.”

Emma awoke to sunlight streaming in her window and Killian and the Blue Fairy deep in a whispered conversation. At first she was confused about why the Blue Fairy was in their bedroom, but as her arm hit the guard rail of her bed, she remembered that she’d given birth to the twins that night. She quickly turned to see the girls both sleeping soundly in their bassinets to the side of her, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Ah! There’s the happy little mother!” Killian whispered loudly and got up to kiss her on the forehead.

“What have you learned?” Emma asked, keen to understand the prophecy and how to defeat Gothel.

“Well, we know this prophecy pertains to us because it mentions the twins and the fact that they’d be born last night on either side of the eclipse during the Harvest Moon. All that business in the sky last night was apparently a welcoming celebration for them.” Killian joked halfheartedly.

Emma shook her head to clear away the last vestiges of sleep that clung to her.

“May I see the prophecy, please?” She asked, holding out her hand for the parchment. The Blue Fairy handed it to her. Both she and Killian tried to say something about it, but Emma put out her hand to stop them. She needed to look at the prophecy and come to her own conclusions before she heard what they had to say.

“Okay. I understand that the first half pertains to our girls, but what about the second half? Nature’s sinister conjurer seems to be a fancy way of saying Gothel. Being separated from something makes her stronger? And what does it mean by a true Harvest Moon?”

Killian stepped forward and took the prophecy back from Emma’s hand. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out, love. The Blue Fairy and I have already hypothesized what it could mean. But, don’t forget, prophecies don’t necessarily mean what you think they mean.” He placed the prophecy down on the side table and took a picture of it with his phone so they could study it more later.

“So what do you hypothesize then?” Emma asked curiously. Her brain was still too muddled to even guess at what the second half could mean.

“Well,” the Blue Fairy began, “judging from her cryptic message at your shower, we think that she thinks your twins can do some damage to her, or vanquish her in some way. Nobody seems to have heard of her in any other realm that I’ve been able to reach out to. And the only Gothel people know of here is the Rapunzel fairy tale, which, from all accounts, seems to have been completely made up and not based in any truth.”

It didn’t make any sense to Emma. Why would a seemingly low-level witch, that didn’t seem to have made any sort of name for herself in either the good or evil camp, want to hurt her children? Why would a prophecy be written about her children defeating this unknown witch, who by all accounts hadn’t done anything to anyone yet?

Yet.

“Have you looked into other prophecies that might pertain to Gothel? Anything about an elemental witch or nature’s sinister conjurer like our prophecy calls her? Maybe she hasn’t turned evil yet. Or maybe this whole thing leads her to turning evil.” Emma said, letting her thoughts take over.

“A self-fulfilling prophecy you mean?” Killian asked. Emma could see his mind working. “Like that Oedipus Rex fellow who killed his own father and married his mother?” Emma laughed at one of the few outside of fairy tale literary references she actually recognized. She was about to say something when a loud wail pierced the air.

“Looks like one of our little ladies has awoken from her slumber.” Killian said, walking over to the bassinet and picking up Alice, who was practically eating her fist.

“She’s hungry.” Emma said, holding out her arms for Killian to put Alice in. The Blue Fairy rose and told them she’d look into other prophecies that might pertain to Gothel. Emma got Alice all ready to nurse when another wail was heard.

“Ready to try and change a diaper?” A nurse said, entering the room. Emma laughed at the horror-stricken look upon Killian’s face.

Hope let out a deep sigh. This epilogue was getting them nowhere, and it was too long. Hadn’t anyone ever told Henry that the epilogue should wrap things up and not bore the reader? But Henry wasn’t paying attention to her, nor was Alice. They were totally engrossed in the story that Henry was reading. Hope checked her watch and noticed that Henry would need to leave in half an hour. She really hoped the story would be finished by then, though that seemed impossible at this rate.

It was two years before Gothel made herself known again.

Two years in which the twins learned to crawl, and walk, and talk, and gained teeth, and grew hair, and had their own little personalities.

Two years in which Snow insisted on getting as many pictures of the girls as possible in matching outfits that she insisted on buying for them.

Two years of Henry writing down every small story that happened and filling books as the author.

Two years of silence in which Gothel was almost forgotten.

Almost.

It was a month after the twins turned two that the Blue Fairy started hearing whispers from the Enchanted Forest about a new evil that had taken root. Just small things at first, nothing she even felt was necessary to tell Emma and Killian about. A spark that ignited a forest fire, but no casualties. Spells that seemed to have gone wrong leading to bad weather, or higher or lower tides that affected the lands. But then, the reports escalated to the decimating of crops, the killing of livestock, the burning of entire forests. It seemed the ‘elemental’ witch was using the elements to drive out the citizens of what she was now calling ‘her’ forest.

Emma had started having nightmares about her daughters being taken away from her, or trapped in a tower that she couldn’t reach. The worst were the dreams where she and Killian and the twins were separated and she couldn’t find them all to put their family back together. She would cling to Killian crying while he stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head, reminding her that they were safe, while showing her their sleeping girls in their cribs through the baby monitor.

After one such night, Emma and Killian were rudely awoken by a pounding on their front door. This immediately set the twins off, which is why Emma was very rude when she flung the door open.

“WHAT THE….” she started, but then saw the Blue Fairy standing before her looking as though she hadn’t slept in weeks. Her clothes were wrinkled, her eyes had purple circles around them, and her usually neat and tidy hair looked like she’d stuck her fingers in an electrical socket.

“I’ve figured it out.” She said, not waiting for an invitation into the house, but just barging in and heading to the kitchen table.

Emma looked perplexed as Killian came in holding both girls on either side of him. He handed Hope to Emma while he put Alice in her high chair.

“Figured out the prophecy?” Killian asked, gathering items to make breakfast for them all.

The Blue Fairy nodded.“Everything! Who Gothel is. Why she’s after you. Why we haven’t been able to find anything about her previously!” Emma barely remembered to place Hope in her high chair before sitting down, her mind whirling.

“I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out why and how she came to you two years ago, when she was unknown to anyone. It didn’t make any sense. Even the prophecy I found was written by a seer only a few months before Gothel came to you. And then there was only recent happenings that suggested that Gothel was fairly new, so I went to the Enchanted Forest and consulted with an Oracle.” She paused, Emma inferred, to collect her thoughts.

“The Gothel that came to see you was much more powerful than the Gothel that is currently trying to terrorize the Enchanted Forest. She was able to cross realms and slow down time. Not even Regina or the Dark One at the heights of their power could do something like that. Rumplestiltskin had to get Regina to curse the entire Enchanted Forest in order to cross realms. Gothel, at this point and time does not have the capability to do this.” Hope banged on her tray, startling them all.

“You’re saying at this point and time.” Killian said as he cracked eggs for breakfast. Emma had to admire how he could stay so domestic while being told about someone who was trying to harm their children. “I’m assuming that’s not just for dramatic effect.”

“You would be correct. The Gothel that visited you came from the future. That child she bartered for in her story? Used to make the same kind of time traveling spell Zelena attempted to do. According to the Oracle, she’s been studying up on you and your family ever since she came into possession of the prophecy and figured out who was going to destroy her. It seems she’ll become quite the vicious ruler, even worse than Regina, if that’s possible. She’s trying to recover the land of her foremothers by ridding it of all humans. It seems our theory about her being a descendent of Gaia is true and she’s reclaiming Gaia’s land for all elemental witches because we have destroyed it too much for her liking.”

Emma tried to wrap her head around what the Blue Fairy was telling her. A very sizable foe had traveled back in time for the express purpose of warning her that her daughters were a threat and that she would be coming after them because of a prophecy. She knew she must be missing something, because she was feeling very much like Harry Potter learning about why Voldemort had attacked him as a baby, but having not understood that he fulfilled the prophecy just by going after Harry. Had Gothel shown her hand by warning them?

“So, what does all this mean?” Killian asked, bringing over a bowl of scrambled eggs to the table on top of plates for everyone. He scooped some onto the girls trays and then plated some for himself and Emma, the Blue Fairy shaking her head when he offered her some.

“It means she’s going to try and separate us all at some point, according to the prophecy.” Emma said matter-of-factly.

A grim mood settled over them, the twins too young to understand happily eating their eggs with their hands.

The Blue Fairy bid them farewell and promised she’d do more research into how to avoid the prophecy, but Emma knew that prophecies were usually unavoidable, but could often be circumvented to a degree.

Unfortunately, it was too late.

It was the next day when Gothel came back. Emma, Regina, and the Blue Fairy used all the magic they could to keep her at bay, but her magic was much too strong. She had all four elements on her side to work with, and their magic was not enough to defeat the original source of magic.

After weeks of Gothel beating the town down with rainstorms, hurricanes, carnivorous plants, and almost anything else from nature that could be thrown at them, it was Regina who finally had the idea for them to leave Storybrooke. Gothel’s magic wouldn’t work outside of the town. Emma was adamant that they stay and fight. She couldn’t leave the people that she loved to fight this witch without her. But even her parents begged her to get out of town after weeks of Gothel attacking them. They’d holed up in Regina’s crypt, protected by blood magic, the one type of magic Gothel didn’t seem to be able to break. But because of the high price blood magic required, they couldn’t use it to protect the whole town.

“It’s the only way, Emma,” Snow and David pleaded with her. “We can let you know when we’ve defeated her or figured out how you and the girls can defeat her. Please.” Snow was crying into Emma’s shoulder. Seeing how much her parents were scared for her finally got her to change her mind. She and Killian packed up all they could into her tiny, yellow bug and into Killian’s Jeep. They would head out of town the next morning. Henry insisted on coming with them, much to Regina’s chagrin. But he was 17 and wanted to see more of the world and help protect his little sisters.

Emma was reminded of their goodbyes at the town line when Pan had cursed the town and she and Henry had to leave while everyone went back to the Enchanted Forest. Only this time, she had her husband and children with her, and the Snow Queen’s Scroll to get them back in when the threat of Gothel was gone. She would still be able to talk to her family and friends on the phone, or even video chat. Everything was going to be okay.

Emma had Hope and Henry waiting in the Bug, while Killian had Alice in his Jeep. They were about to cross the town line when Gothel appeared, floating in front of them. She threw a bolt of her magic below her directly onto the town line stopping them in their tracks, cackling the whole time.

“You think you can run from me and my magic?” She threw her head back in a shriek, her black curls whipping all around her in a black halo.

Everything seemed to be going in slow motion. Emma wondered if Gothel had slowed down time again, but she realized it was just the fear of the moment. Emma got out of the car, her magic crackling in her hands.

“This ends now!” Emma said angrily. She was tired of this. Tired of the fear that had hung over them for so long. She just wanted to defeat this bitch and go back to her normal life.

“You wanted to separate yourselves from your family to defeat me, fine! I’ll make sure you are separated from everyone. No one will even remember you were here.” And with that she pulled out a bottle from her dress pocket and uncorked it.

“No one here will remember you and you won’t even remember each other.” The liquid from the bottle had begun to bubble and golden smoke started to pour forth from it. “This whole town will never remember the Swan-Jones family. And you will only know who you leave town with.” Emma’s eyes widened with realization that if they left town she wouldn’t know Killian or Alice, and they wouldn’t know her, Hope, and Henry.

“Emma, Killian, you have to leave!” Regina shouted at them. Snow and David nodded in agreement, tears streaming down their faces. “The prophecy says you’ll defeat her, somehow you’ll figure it out, even without your memories. Now go!”

Emma and Killian looked at each other, both of them now realizing that they would not know each other once they crossed the town line. That their love story would not get a happy ending. And that their twins would both grow up without one of them.

“I love you, Swan.” Killian said from where he stood next to the Jeep, his hand on the handle ready to get back in. “Never forget that.”

Emma nodded, tears streaming down her face. “I love you too. We will have our happy ending.” They smiled at each other, not even having enough time for one last kiss. Emma sat herself in the front seat and the both drove through the golden fog over the town line together.

Emma only vaguely remembered the Jeep that kept up with her most of the way on her trip down to Boston. She was too concerned with how worried Henry seemed to be about their move, probably still reeling from Neal’s death a few weeks prior. She hoped their move to a new place would help him find the peace that he so desperately sought.

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lilacmoon83 · 4 years ago

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Chapter 19: Miner Complications, Pt 2

Neal smiled and waved to Henry, who was making sure he was watching him play the vendor's game.

"Your argument with your fiancé didn't seem to go well at all," Gold observed.

"That's an understatement," Neal deadpanned and then sighed.

"She's pissed...because I told her that I'm moving here and not going back to New York," he said.

"You and Henry belong here," he agreed.

"Maybe Papa...but it's not that easy to explain to her. Maybe I should tell her...everything," he said.

"Do you think that is wise? Not even Emma wants to believe it all and the truth is staring her in the face," he warned. Neal sighed.

"Yeah...there's no way she'd buy any of this," he agreed.

"Do you love her?" Gold asked bluntly.

"Of course I love her," he answered, a little too quickly.

"And if she makes you choose between Henry and going back to New York?" Gold asked.

"Papa...you know I'm going to choose Henry," he said sternly.

"Good...because I once chose something over you and it was the worst mistake of my very long life. I regretted it the moment I did it," Gold assured him.

"Yeah, yeah...I'm still trying to be mad at you, you know," he refuted. Gold smirked.

"And you have every reason to still be mad at me," he agreed.

"Stop being agreeable," Neal complained.

"Then you better make it clear to Tamara that you're not going back to New York. At least it can be a clean break then," Gold said.

"Hold on...I love her and I don't want to break up with her. Who says I can't convince her to stay?" Neal asked. Gold nodded curtly.

"Then you have your work cut out for you...but be careful telling her too much until you're sure she's on board with what it would mean for her to move to this world," he advised. Gold knew that, most likely, this was the beginning of the end for his relationship with Tamara. He didn't want his son to be hurt, but it was obvious to him, as well as to Snow for that matter, that he was still carrying a very bright torch for Emma. Tamara was out of place and didn't belong. She could never accept any of this, at best. And at worst, his instincts about her told him that she already knew more than she was letting on and meant nothing but trouble for them.

"Dad! Dad! Grandpa Gold...look at what I won!" Henry called, as he showed them his stuffed wolf.

"Nice buddy," he said, giving him a high five.

"A wolf...a very wise animal," Gold said.

"Let's go show Mom Emma, and Grams and Gramps," he said. Neal chuckled and they followed.

~*~

"You're here," Tamara said, as she rounded the corner and the blonde turned to face her.

"I decided I needed to come see the situation myself. A bit earlier than I thought, but I've been patient long enough, believe me," she said, as she quietly observed the people in the near distance.

"Neal reacted about like you said. He's dropped his life in New York like a bad habit," Tamara mused. She smirked.

"I've been told that children do that...they make you forget everything you previously have and forge a whole new life. Even if it means cutting out those that don't fit in anymore," she said.

"You sound like you're speaking from experience, Ms. Blake," Tamara replied.

"Yes…I once had a sister that cast me aside the moment her beloved daughter was born. She used to shower me with attention and then something she considered more beautiful came into her world and stole her and everyone else's attention," she said.

"I was cast away into obscurity, but none of that matters now. I paved my own path and became a star in my own right," she added.

"Yes…I'm still not sure what a fashion mogul like you wants with this town or its supposed secrets," Tamara replied.

"And you'll know that when I'm ready for you too. For now, keep observing as you have been," she said, as she observed her niece with her prince.

"So...no longer cursed it would seem. How interesting," she mused.

~*~

Emma sipped at her cocoa and browsed some of the vendor stands aimlessly.

"Cinnamon roll?" Ruby asked, as she offered one to her. Emma nodded and handed her some money, before digging in.

"Mmm...that's really good," she complimented.

"Yeah…I figured you'd like that. It's Mary Margaret's favorite too," Ruby said, watching the other woman's face darken a bit.

"When are you going to stop being mad at her?" Ruby asked.

"I'm not mad at her," Emma insisted.

"Then why the cold shoulder? I can believe that most of the stick in the muds in this town might shun her for supposedly having a part in ending David's marriage to Kathryn, but you don't strike me as the judgemental type. Am I really supposed to believe that you're shunning her, because of who she's sleeping with?" Ruby asked. Emma sighed.

"This has nothing to do with David," Emma replied.

"Then what is it? What did she do to ruin such a close friendship?" Ruby asked curiously. Emma huffed.

"Nothing...it's complicated," she insisted.

"Well...you should un-complicate it, because something tells me that Mary Margaret would do anything for you and somehow, I sense that David would too," Ruby said. Emma snorted.

"Yeah...don't be so sure about that," she muttered.

"I am sure...I can tell by the way they look at you. I don't know what's going on between the three of you...but for someone who has always wanted a family, you're sure giving the ones that want to be that family to you the brush off," Ruby said, as she went back to serving other customers. Emma looked at them and then saw her son run up to them so she made her way over there.

~*~

Snow accepted a bite of the warm, gooey cinnamon roll they had purchased from one of the food stands.

"Mmm...you always know when I need cinnamon and always manage to get it for me," she swooned. He chuckled.

"Yeah...it's nice that it's a little more readily available in this land," he replied. She smiled sheepishly, remembering how he would leave the castle many times during her pregnancy and ride to one of the village marketplaces to buy it for her. Then late at night, instead of waking the staff, he'd make sweet treats and drinks for her with it.

"You are so good to me," she gushed.

"I live to make you happy, you know that," he said, enjoying a bite himself. And she knew in turn that just being together made them both happier than they could have imagined at one time. She rested her head on his arm and reflected on that lonely time when she was living as a bandit and had lost faith that love was even real, much less true love. She was sure any hope of finding love, let alone true love, was lost to her. Then she stole his mother's ring and he tackled her and even after taking a rock to the face, he tracked her down to retrieve his mother's ring. That had sent them on a whirlwind adventure to get it back from some trolls and in turn cemented the instant connection they seemed to have upon their meeting.

She remembered trying on his mother's ring in an offhand move and not really wanting to take it off. The moment she had put it on he hadn't wanted it off her finger either. She had returned in then for a time and in the end, he placed it on her finger himself.

Despite a terrible dark curse and lost memories, the ring had survived and remained on her finger; a true feat that could only mean that their true love was unbreakable, even by the darkest of curses. He seemed to be thinking along the same line as her, as they both looked at the ring on her finger.

"It survived the curse and all these years," he mentioned.

"Mmm...like our love. You never wanted it off my finger the day you put it there and I never did either. Even the curse couldn't change that," she said. He smiled and kissed her tenderly.

"Grams, Gramps...look what I won!" Henry said excitedly.

"Wow...nice, kid," David said, patting him on the back.

"A wolf...they're a very special animal," Snow agreed, as they exchanged a glance.

"Wasn't it the Huntsman's best friend?" Henry asked. David nodded.

"It was...and he saved me from execution at his own expense," he replied.

"I miss him...I mean Graham," Henry said.

"Us too honey," Snow replied, as she looked up to see Emma there and knew her daughter missed him very much as well.

"Hey Mom...I won this for you. I know Graham is gone...but it reminds me of him," Henry said. Emma accepted the gift and smiled at him, as she ruffled his hair.

"Thanks Henry," she said.

"We're all here, because of him, right Grams?" Henry asked. Snow saw how uncomfortable that was making Emma, but she wouldn't lie to Henry.

"That's right honey...he was very brave and he spared my life. Then he helped free David so he could find me and wake me from the sleeping curse. We owe him everything," she admitted and then looked at Emma in the eyes. The blonde recalled the night of his death very clearly and the way he had looked at her. She then shook her head, refusing to play into it and stalked off. Snow's heart sank again and David put his arms around her.

"Why won't she believe?" Henry asked.

"Oh buddy...she will. It's just a lot for her to accept, but she'll come around. It's hard, but we have to be patient," David replied, as he put his free arm around him and hugged him too.

"Henry...it's time to go home," Regina snapped, as she approached.

"It's still pretty early," Neal protested.

"Henry has school in the morning and it's nearly eight. According to the judge, he's to be returned to me on the weeknights by eight," she reminded him. Neal sighed and hugged him tightly.

"I'll see you tomorrow, kid," he promised. Henry nodded and surprised Snow with a hug. She nearly melted at that and hugged him in return with a smile. The whole scene made Regina's blood boil.

"I miss you at school," he said sadly.

"Oh, I miss you too...but I'll see you soon," she promised, trying to ignore Regina's glower. She watched him go and looked around, but didn't find Emma anywhere.

"Can we go home?" she asked. David nodded and kissed her forehead. They said goodbye to Neal and Gold, before heading for the loft.

"Perhaps you should go find Emma," Gold suggested.

"I'd like to...but I know when it's best to leave her alone," Neal said, as they headed home too.

~*~

Narcissa walked along Main street and observed the properties present. There were no vacancies and that wouldn't do at all. She needed a place to set up shop, so she went into the dress store and wrinkled her nose. The fashions there were abhorrent and at least two decades old.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked. She didn't know who she was back in the Enchanted Forest and she didn't care. She was probably some peasant worth less than the price of her Armani pantsuit.

"Yes…I'm here to buy you out," Narcissa said.

"Excuse me?" the woman asked in confusion. The blonde smirked and pushed a check toward her. The woman's eyes widened with the amount of zeros on it.

"You want to buy the store?" she asked.

"Yes…and rebrand it. I'm Narcissa Blake...maybe you've heard of me," she said.

"Blake Fashions...the high end line from New York?" the woman asked in amazement.

"That's me...the envy of New England and the world, of course," she replied.

"This is more money than I've ever seen...sold," the woman said.

"Excellent…" Narcissa said. Now she just had to hire some movers to do away with all the inventory in the store and replace it with her own. She walked back into the office and wrinkled her nose. This place certainly needed a lot of work, but she had the money to transform this entire place into her headquarters in Storybrooke. Yes, this would do nicely as a base and allow her to observe her niece. Then she would find the perfect way to destroy her.

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Emma Swan #Neal Cassidy #Henry Mills #Mr. Gold #Regina Mills #AU #romance #adventure #family #drama #Clarity #A 7x15 am AU

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let-it-raines · 5 years ago

Text

Storybrooke Haunted Farms

“Want to be chased through a corn maze? Take a ride in a trailer full of hay in the middle of the woods? Play paintball with zombies? Explore a haunted ghost ship? If this sounds like fun to you, come to Storybrooke Haunted Farms where the fun is cheap and the thrills are terrifying. Open from October 1st - October 31st.”

Emma Swan has been working at Storybrooke Haunted Farms for the past four years, and she’s done everything from work the haunted hayride to chasing paying customers through a corn maze with a fake chainsaw. It’s always been a good way for her to make a little extra cash for the holidays for her son, and it’s most likely the best time she’s ever had working.

That is until her assignment changes and she’s made to work on the pirate ship exhibit with Killian Jones, quite possibly the most obnoxious man alive.

Rating: Teen-ish

A/n: I told myself that I didn't have time to write a Halloween story, but then my brain was like “what if” and I figured I’d do something for @cshalloweek even if this doesn’t really fit a theme. So here we are! I hope you have a spook-tacular time reading 🎃

Found on AO3 | HERE |

Tagging: @captainsjedi @wellhellotragic @galaxyzxstark @thejollyroger-writer @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @xellewoods@idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @ultimiflos @jamif @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81

-/-

Laces tighten around Emma’s back, and her breath hitches as her lungs are very literally constricted from the corset that’s being tightened to cinch her waist and push her breasts up several inches higher than they should ever be.

The money may not be worth this.

There’s another tug, and Emma gasps as she leans forward to curl her fingers around the edge of the antique vanity in front of her, her eyes squeezing shut as she imagines herself to be literally anywhere else.

Anywhere.

And she hasn’t even had to put on the skirts or the top or had her hair pinned back so that bobby pins are sticking into the back of her neck to give her a headache.

“Mary Margaret,” Emma gasps before clenching her teeth as yet another lace is tightened, “it’s too tight. I’m not going to be able to breathe.”

“You’ll become accustomed to it. I promise. It’s really not that bad.”

“You only say that because you’re not wearing one, which is complete and utter bullshit by the way.”

Mary Margaret sighs behind Emma as she tugs again, and Emma’s eyes fly open so that she can see her face in the mirror. And her boobs. And an unnaturally tiny waist. This is not normal, and there’s no way that she’s going to become accustomed to it.

“You know I don’t make the decisions on the costumes. That is completely and totally out of my hands.”

“Your mother owns the place.”

“Step,” Mary Margaret corrects. “Step-mother. She owns it.”

“Yeah, but your mom owned it first. It was her brain child, and I feel like you should get some say in what costumes and attractions people get to work in. I wore jeans and a plaid shirt last year, Marg. I’m having to wear a full-on corset and medieval dress this year. How the hell am I supposed to run?”

There’s a final tug, and Emma almost pops out of the corset. “I don’t think you are. I mean, the haunted ship is our newest attraction, and it’s not going to be like the hayride or the corn maze. There’s not a lot of running after people. It’s more like jump scares.”

“But I hate jump scares.”

“You like the money, and you fit into the costumes we ordered. If you really hate it, I’ll see if you can get put on the rotation for the zombie paintball.”

“I would rather walk around this place in nothing but my underwear than be a team member for zombie paintball.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

It takes another fifteen minutes for Emma to fully get into the costume. There are layers to it, far too many skirts than should ever be necessary, but it’s apparently some kind of authentic costume for a bar wench that would serve pirates in whatever century is being depicted on the ship. Emma doesn’t know, and she doesn’t really care about historical accuracy. All she cares about is the fact that every night for all of October, she’s going to be putting on fifteen layers of a dress and a corset and having her hair teased to look like it hasn’t been brushed in days. At least her makeup is relatively normal.

If smearing mascara down her cheeks and powdering her face to make her look paler than usual is normal.

At least they’re not doing her hair or her makeup today. Just this dumb costume.

Leaving the trailer where the costumes are kept, Emma makes her way outside as a gust of chilled air moves over her, causing goosebumps to immediately rise on the exposed parts of her skin. At least her legs won’t be cold with all of their layers. The rest of her might just freeze to death, however.

It’s only September right now, but from experience Emma knows just how miserable October nights are when not wrapped up in coats and scarves and the warmest knit cap that Emma owns. With how things are now, she knows that this year is going to be even more miserable.

Sucking it up, Emma kicks her leg forward to give herself more space to move, and she follows the pathway in the woods down to get down to the pier. The leaves have already started to change colors, most of them beginning to fall to the ground, and they crunch underneath her feet as she follows the familiar path. There are men up in the trees setting up rigging and hanging props, and she spots Jeff hooking up the speaker system that plays throughout the grounds for music and in rare cases, emergency announcements. Emma has only heard of children getting separated from their parents in her time here, but she does know that there was once an issue with a chainsaw and someone’s foot.

That’s why everyone has to sign waivers now – employees and customers alike.

Welcome to Storybrooke Haunted Farms: The Scariest Place in Maine.

Emma’s been working here for the past four years. It’s a seasonal job, only half of September for training and costume fittings and the month of October for actual work, but it pays better than being a waitress at Granny’s does all year. It’s a great atmosphere working there, but the tips are not great unless she gets one of the good shifts. She needs more money than she’s getting, and scaring the shit out of people isn’t a bad gig.

Well, it wasn’t when she was hopping up onto a moving trailer full of hay and people and frightening the people who were screaming the loudest as well as those who were quietly shaking in fear. The haunted hayride through the woods is by far the least terrifying attraction that they have here, but it’s definitely the most fun for employees to work. Then again, Emma loved working in the corn mazes where people paid her to chase after them with a chainsaw (fake) or in the set that was made to look like an abandoned hospital wing. Though, in that last one she had to wear one of those awful slutty nurse’s costumes, and heels, and that was difficult to move around in as well.

Not like this costume though.

She keeps having to kick her legs to not trip over the stone pathway as the thatch of trees thins out and the ocean comes into view, salt thickening in the air and the sun shining a little brighter down onto her skin. And there, in all of its glory, is a massive ship with tall white sails that are currently being sliced up and painted to look battered as fake moss is added to the sides of the dark wood. None of this will be noticed in the dark, of course, but Regina is nothing if not excessive in her decorations. Anything to make more money when she doesn’t exactly need it.

At least she never shows up to the actual site. That would be more of a nightmare than any of the attractions.

(It’s also how she’s going to get out of having to wear this costume every day.)

“Emma,” a voice calls out, and she twists around to look at Graham Humbert standing with several planks of wood over his shoulder like that’s not big deal.

“Hey,” she greets, not really stepping closer for fear of getting accidentally knocked out. “What do they have you building today?”

“The bridge to the ship. She’s a beauty, don’t you think? Are you working on her this year?”

“What gave it away?” Emma reaches down to grab at the sides of her skirts, picking them up before letting them fall down with enough power that leaves scatter beneath her. “I don’t exactly know my role yet, but they’ve got me in this costume for it. I wish we could do dress rehearsals in normal clothes.”

His eyes flicker up and down her body, and instinctively, she wants to reach up to cover her chest. However, she knows that will just make her boobs looks bigger, and as nice as Graham is, she’s simply not as interested in dating him as he is with her. He’s more of a friend to her than anything, and he’s a really good influence in Henry’s life. If she were to date him, she’d just fuck things up and make him no longer want to spend time with Henry. That’s what happens every time she gets involved with anyone.

“Authenticity, I believe,” Graham finally says back, his eyes landing on her face. “I think it’ll be a fun attraction to work. I’ll have to come by and check it out once you guys open.”

“Is the Sheriff really supposed to pay to be scared by other people?”

“It’s a fun time. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t come here at least once a year.”

“Well,” Emma starts, already the slightest bit uncomfortable with the way that Graham is swaying closer to her with the wood, “thank you for your contribution that goes toward my son’s Christmas gifts. I’ve got to go to rehearsals now. Make sure that this bridge is steady so I’m not falling into the ocean, okay?”

Graham salutes her before she’s stepping away from him and heading down to the docks, nearly tripping over her dress and the uneven ground. If this continues, she’s going to the costume department and getting a pair of pants to work in. Pants would definitely be better than this.

People are already milling around down here, most of them in tattered pirate costumes with cups of Starbucks in their hand, and while she recognizes a few of them, most are new to her and must not frequent Granny’s too often or only come during Ruby’s shifts at night so that Emma would have never run into them. She recognizes Will Scarlet, though, and she waves to him before turning to take a shaky step up onto the ship where she comes face to face with a man dressed in all black leather with a red vest that’s nearly unbuttoned all the way to his navel.

What in the world?

Emma trips again on a piece of loose board before catching herself and looking up past the dark chest hair and skull and bones silver charms only to a stubble-covered jaw that belongs to a man with some of the bluest eyes that she’s ever seen. He must have gone through makeup today because his eyes are lined with black eyeliner and his hair is messily coiffed, and Emma feels the slightest bit of fire stir in her belly that she immediately tampers down.

Who the hell is that?

“You okay there, lass?”

Emma almost stumbles again at the deep timber of his voice, and she is definitely asking if she can get an alternate costume that includes pants. This is ridiculous.

“I’m fine,” she huffs, brushing her hands against her skirts and turning away from him. “It’s this damn costume. I’m so uncomfortable.”

“Your discomfort is a cross I’m willing to bear”

“Ha,” Emma scoffs as her eyes roll and her mind immediately decides that she hates this guy. Who is he to try to joke around and compliment her? She doesn’t even know him. “You’re hysterical. Is the abundant amount of cleavage you have showing your choice or the company’s?”

“A combination of both.” He uncrosses his arms and his legs and steps forward so that he’s back in her space. A chill runs down her spine as the ship rocks beneath them. “I’m not particularly modest.”

“I assumed.” “What about you, love?”

“Not your love, and what about me?”

“Is the amount of cleavage your choice?”

Emma curls her hands into fists and turns to look at this obnoxious man who is way too comfortable with her, and the smirk on his lips does nothing to lessen the hatred that’s simmering beneath her skin. “It is obviously not my choice.”

“It’s a pity nothing can be done about that.” He sticks his hand out in front of her, and she almost laughs before she realizes that he’s serious. Begrudgingly, she reaches forward and takes his hand in hers. “Killian Jones.”

“Emma Swan.”

“Swan,” he repeats back, his tongue visibly running behind the back of his teeth. Is it possible to hate someone so much within one-hundred and twenty seconds of meeting them? “I like it.”

“Oh, well, if you like it, I guess I’ll have to keep it forever, won’t I?”

Killian winks, and she imagines him having to wear a corset so tight that he can’t breathe too. It’s a weird form of torture, but it’s all she can focus on right now. Obviously the blood can’t reach her brain right now, and there’s only so long she can live like this.

She’s got at least six weeks.

Shit.

Emma opens her mouth to say something, most likely to tell him to go screw himself but in less friendly terms, but then there’s a loud clap from across the deck where David is standing on top of a barrel with a clipboard in hand. He was made to be a detective and a cruise director all at once. Emma doesn’t think that he married Mary Margaret simply so that he could be a part of the Blanchard-Mills Storybrooke Haunted Farms legacy, but she wouldn’t be surprised if it was part of the initial appeal.

Holidays are kind of a big deal in this town, and being in love with them is pretty much a requirement for living here. If they (whoever they are) find out that you don’t buy flowers for Valentine’s Day or candy for Halloween, they have the power to kick you out.

Probably not, but Emma has heard rumors. This is the best place she’s ever lived, and she’s not really a big fan of the thought of having to leave. Henry wouldn’t be either. He’s too in love with Ruby for him to want to leave.

“Okay,” David starts, his voice louder than the sound of a hammer hitting against wood and a saw cutting down the beams for the bridge between the docks and the ship. “So welcome aboard the Storybrooke Haunted Farms team. We’re excited to have you here, whether or not you’re new or have worked for us before, and my wife and I want you all to remember that while we want you to scare the ever-loving shit out of people, we also want you to have fun. But also to be safe. If you haven’t signed a waiver, please see Belle to my right to sign your forms.”

People shuffle across the dock over to Belle, and she begins handing out papers as Emma shifts her weight to one side, trying to put as much distance between she and Killian Jones as possible. He’s got to be one of those obnoxious people who thinks his looks can excuse his actions, and she is not here for that. But she’s also not here for causing issues at work before it even really starts, so she doesn’t want to make it too obvious that she’s moving away from him.

“So, this our newest attraction,” David continues with his arm outstretched to show off the ship, “and you guys are going to be our guinea pigs, so please bear with us on any issues or problems running it. We’re counting on you guys to notice problems and report them, so if you see a way we need to improve, don’t be scared to ask. Only our customers are supposed to be scared around here.”

There’s an awkward laugh that emits from everyone. It’s really a shame that David isn’t a dad yet because he’s already got the jokes down.

“Now, after all of our waivers are signed, Belle and I are going to hand out your roles before we start practice out here. We’ve got two weeks before opening, and while that’s not a lot of time, I know that you’ll all get the hang of things.”

“The Nolans are quite the optimistic bunch, aren’t they?” Killian questions, his breath hot as he leans into her ear. She jumps away, this time visibly putting space between them, and if someone doesn’t smack the smirk off his face before the end of October, Emma is doing it the day she gets her final paycheck.

“How do you know the Nolans?”

“Dave went to the Police Academy with my older brother.”

Great. That means Killian is here as some kind of friend to David, and Emma is going to have to be nice to him. This feels a hell of a lot like when she tells Henry to be nice to his classmates even when half of them are six-year-old devils.

She’s a really good mom, obviously.

“How do you know them, love?”

“Not your love,” Emma repeats as she steps away from him and moves to where Belle and David are handing out paperwork. “And they’re pretty popular in the town. Everyone knows them.”

“Well, I’m new to town, so I guess I’ll have to get used everyone who is popular in town.”

“Okay.”

At that, she tries to dodge out of his way, but that’s a bit difficult when it’s a small area crowded with dozens of people all headed into the same direction, so he’s constantly at her heels. At least he’s not talking any longer, but it’s almost like there’s this overwhelming presence following her around, like he’s peering over her shoulder and waiting for her to slip up or fall into the charms that he very obviously thinks that he has.

“Emma,” David smiles when she walks up to him. The annoyance she’s felt from Killian fades away, if only for fifteen seconds, at the sound of a familiar voice who isn’t going to annoy her or try to flirt with her. “Your costume looks fantastic.”

“You know, that’s what I said, mate, but she didn’t seem to like my compliment too much.”

David’s eyes glance at her before fliting behind her to look at Killian, and from the smile that’s still on his face, Emma can tell that he does, indeed, know Killian Jones.

Of course.

“Do you two know each other?” David asks.

“No,” Emma blurts out.

“We just met a few minutes ago,” Killian explains as he bumps his shoulder into hers like they’re old pals. “I think we might be fast friends, me and Swan.”

Emma can’t hold back her scoff, even when David’s eyes slant at her. “Yeah,” Emma sighs as her hand moves behind her to slap Killian’s back, “fast friends. That’s exactly how I would describe the two of us.”

Her stomach drops, which really doesn’t help anything when the corners of David’s lips turn up and stretch all the way up to his eyes.

“That’s actually perfect.”

“And why’s that?”

-/-

“He has me playing some kind of damsel in distress,” Emma huffs out as she paces back and forth in the kitchen of her apartment, a glass of wine in her hand that she really wishes had more alcohol in it. “I mean, it’s not technically a damsel in distress, but it pretty much is. I have to work with this jackass who thinks he’s all that and a bag of chips with his pirate costume and deep accent and the way that he swaggers across the deck, and the two of us have to act like some kind of old-timey couple on the bow of the ship pretending that we’re in love and having a fight to distract everyone from the people sneaking up behind them before he’s pushing me off the side of the boat.”

“What’s a jackass?” Henry asks her from his seat on the couch in the living room, and Emma immediately reaches her free hand up to cover her mouth.

“I shouldn’t have said that, kid,” Emma apologizes, flashing him a smile as Ruby snickers from her spot sitting on the counter. “That’s not a word we use. I’m sorry.”

Henry shrugs his shoulders and goes back to watching his Ninja Turtles Show. There’s no reason she should have such a good kid, but the universe obviously decided that she needed some kind of good luck.

By far the best thing ever to happen to her even if the circumstances of her pregnancy sucked.

“Is it really that bad, though?” Emma’s head snaps back over to Ruby to see her tossing a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “Like, I saw this guy when he got into town. He’s apparently moving here and staying at Granny’s until he gets an apartment. He’s not a bad looking guy, Ems. In fact, I would say that he’s attractive. How bad can it be to be paid to flirt with him while he’s wearing all kinds of leather and eyeliner and looking sinful?”

“I am hooked up to a rigging system and get thrown off the side of the boat.”

“Okay, granted, that part is bad, but it’s not all bad. You literally used to have to run for hours a night with a chainsaw to scare people. This is much better.”

“I don’t think you understand how bad this guy is.”

Ruby arches a perfectly manicured brow and tilts her wine glass to her lips. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“I usually don’t.”

Ruby’s eyes look over to Henry, and that’s when Emma knows that she really doesn’t want to hear what Ruby is going to say. “Henry is how old? Six?”

“Mhm.”

“And you’re twenty-four, correct?”

“Yep.”

“And you’ve had one boyfriend since he was born, right?”

“It’s been more than one.”

Ruby holds up her hand and bends one finger back before pointing that one finger at her chin. “Walsh Osbourne is the only one I can think of. Would you like to enlighten me as to who the others are?”

“I have been on dates with men other than,” Emma makes sure to lower her voice so that Henry can’t hear, “Walsh, but I haven’t introduced any of them to Henry after him. I can’t take the risk that Henry is going to get attached.”

“Which is exactly why you won’t date Graham.”

Emma’s cheeks flame up. She really needs more wine, but she’s working the early shift at Granny’s tomorrow and still has to go to practice tomorrow night. “I don’t want to date Graham. He’s a nice guy, but I’m just not in the mood for dating. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I literally spend most of my day working multiple jobs. When I’m not working, I’m taking care of my kid. That’s what happens when you get knocked up at seventeen and have literally no resources.”

Ruby raises her hands in the air, an apology already on her lips, but then the volume mutes on the television and Henry is moving over to them in the kitchen, his mop of brown hair messily situated on top of his head as he opens up the fridge.

“What are you looking for, kid? I’m pretty sure you ate dinner at Granny’s with Ruby.”

“Yeah, but I’m thirsty, and water just isn’t cutting it.” He turns to smile at her then, and Emma’s heart aches over how much he looks like Neal. Couldn’t he at least have gotten a little bit of her in him? Would that have been too much to ask? “Can I have orange juice?”

“No,” Emma says as she steps over him and grabs the gallon of milk from the shelf and turns around to place it on the kitchen countertop while Ruby hands her a glass from the cabinet. “There’s too much sugar in orange juice for you to have it this late at night.”

“But it’s Friday, Mom.” “And?”

“I don’t have school in the morning.”

“Yeah,” she smiles as she pours him a small glass of milk, “I know. You’re spending the day with Mary Margaret and David tomorrow while I’m at work, and I can almost guarantee that one of them will give you all kinds of sugar so that you never go to bed ever again.”

His lips stretch into a smile so large that Emma can see them under the clear plastic glass. “That would be the coolest thing ever. Can I wear my Ninja Turtles costume tomorrow?”

“Now, that, is something I can agree to.”

Henry nods his head and walks back to the couch, and Emma smiles to herself before turning back to look at Ruby who is sipping her wine. Emma wonders if maybe just maybe she’ll have forgotten the conversation they were having, but that’s unlikely.

“Hot pirate dude makes you all tingly inside, and you’re nervous that you’re going to act on it.”

Yep. Ruby isn’t going to let this go.

“That is not true. I am not going to sleep with him.”

“Whatever you say. I think he’d be a good one to bang one out with so you can release some of the tension in your shoulders.”

“I’m going to kick you out.”

“No, you’re not,” Ruby sighs as she gets down from the counter. “You and Henry love me too much to do that. Isn’t that right, kid?”

Henry doesn’t say anything, too furiously blushing at having Ruby talk to him to form words. Poor kid has it bad.

-/-

The morning shift at Granny’s on Saturday is as hectic as ever, none of the tables ever emptying out and nearly every single person being annoyed until they get their coffee, and if Emma didn’t like the tips that came with working one of the busiest times of the week, she’d request another time. One day she’s going to have to find another job, garner some skill set that will actually give her normal pay and normal hours, but she hasn’t exactly figured that out yet.

Thankfully, cost of living in Storybrooke is not high.

Being a waitress still sucks sometimes, though. She has enough of cleaning up after other people at home, and if one more person tells her to smile when she’s cleaning a table where their kid spilled syrup, she will lose it.

And then probably lose her job.

But she does finish work around two with a little bit more cash in her pocket, and that’s all that really matters. That’s also all that matters as she drives her yellow bug across town to Storybrooke Haunted Farms so that she can get into costume and go to practice.

(Mary Margaret agreed to letting Emma buy a costume with pants for some of the nights, and she’s never been so excited over such a little thing.)

The grounds are pretty much empty when she gets there, and it’s weirdly peaceful that way. It’s a beautiful place, almost completely out in nature, and if it wasn’t for the fact that someone is driving around in a golf cart with a pile of fake dead bodied behind them, Emma could forget that this is all one big Halloween event.

Mary Margaret said that she was down by the docks with Henry supervising the continuing construction on their pirate ship, so Emma heads down that way, not bothering to change out of her uniform quite yet. She just tugs her red leather jacket a little more tightly around her as the air gets a little bit cooler the closer she gets to the ocean.

Emma sees Mary Margaret first. She’s sitting in a golf cart, the red one she always drives, but there’s no Henry. If Emma didn’t know that Mary Margaret was one of the most responsible people on the planet, she’d take off running looking for her kid, but there’s no way that Mary Margaret has lost him.

“Hey,” Emma greets as she slides into the seat next to her and catches a glimpse of Mary Margaret’s text to David, “where’s my kid?”

“Killian is giving him a tour of the ship.”

Emma blanches, and it takes everything in her not to run down to the docks and pull Henry out of there. Why the hell would Mary Margaret pass him off to a stranger?

“You just let my son go hang out with a stranger? That seems safe.”

Mary Margaret looks over to her with a shake of a head. “Killian is not a stranger, Emma. We’ve known him for years. Plus, you know him. He’s your scene partner.”

“I’ve known him for less than a week. I don’t send my six-year-old off with people I’ve known for a week.”

Mary Margaret clicks her tongue, and Emma scoffs before crossing her arms over her chest. What is this guy’s deal?

“Killian is a nice guy, maybe a little rough around the edges, but Henry saw him walking around in his pirate costume and lost his mind and begged to go talk to him. Killian played along with it, acting like he really was a pirate, and Henry asked him if he could show him the ship. It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“The big deal is that the guy is a flirtatious ass, and he didn’t need to know that I had a kid.”

Mary Margaret’s lips part, but she never gets to say anything. “Mom,” Henry yells out as he runs toward the two of them at what she knows is his fastest speed, “Mom, Mom, Mom.”

“What?” Emma laughs, willing away all of her negative emotions to put a smile on her face as Henry gets closer to her, Killian unfortunately following right behind him. “You’re going to be out of breath if you keep running that fast.”

Henry keeps running until he comes to a skidding stop right in front of the golf cart. His cheeks are red and his chest is heaving, but there’s an undeniable joy in those brown eyes of his. As annoyed as she is that Mary Margaret sent him off with a guy who she doesn’t like, at least he’s happy.

“Mom, I have had the best day. I got to eat pancakes with David and then they let me go up into the treehouse and then I met Killian and he gave me a tour of the pirate ship. Is it true that you get to work with him on it? Really? Do you get to be a pirate? I want to be a pirate! Can I be a pirate for Halloween?”

“Woah,” Emma laughs as she pulls Henry up onto the cart so that he can sit in her lap as she pushes some of his hair back, “slow down and take a deep breath. Not even the Flash goes this fast.”

“I want to be a pirate for Halloween,” Henry says a bit more slowly, his words still coming out the slightest bit stilted, “because pirates wear cool clothes and have swords and get to talk all funny sometimes. And they hunt for buried treasure. Do you think there’s buried treasure here?”

“I – ”

“There might be,” Killian adds in, and Emma is going to bite off her tongue and fill her entire mouth with blood to keep from spewing every word she’s told Henry that he can’t say out at Killian. “I think we’d have to find a treasure map to know for sure.”

Mary Margaret gasps next to Emma, and she quickly turns to the side to look at her.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, seriously. What? You don’t get to just gasp like that and then not tell me what’s going on.”

“I will tell you later when we aren’t around so many people, but I have an idea for an activity.”

Emma narrows her eyes, but Mary Margaret doesn’t pay any attention to her, immediately pulling her phone back out and typing something in that Emma can’t see because Mary Margaret turned the brightness down.

“Or,” Henry suggests to Killian, obviously still stuck on this whole treasure map thing, “we could use those things that old men use on the beach to find money.”

“We could, lad, but do you know where we’d get one?”

“Probably from an old man.”

Emma squeezes Henry a little tighter and buries her face in his hair to try to stop laughing. He needs a shower, but that’s going to have to wait until after her practice.

“Henry,” she begins, “why don’t you and Mary Margaret go check out what else is going on around here while I go to practice? I’ll come get you when I’m finished, and then we’ll go to dinner, yeah? I’m thinking grilled cheese.”

His eyes light up with his smile, and Emma’s heart pangs the slightest bit. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” She leans down to kiss his cheek over and over again until he’s a giggling mess. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

It takes a few minutes before Mary Margaret and Henry drive off, and then she’s left alone with Killian as he kicks his heel into the ground and digs up a bit of dirt and sand. He’s in his costume today, the same one as before, but this time a long black duster has been added. If it’s anything like her dress, Emma knows that it has to be heavy, but he doesn’t seem to have any problem moving around in it. And she swears that even more buttons are undone on his shirt so that she can see more of his stomach and the hair that seems to go all the way down.

Who even is this guy?

“That’s a nice kid you’ve got there, Swan,” he tells her. She nearly jumps at the sound of his voice, and Emma realizes that she let her defenses down, if only for a moment.

She shouldn’t have.

“I tend to think so, and no, I’m not biased at all.”

Killian flashes a smile, and her stomach flips without her permission. “I think so without any bias. He was so curious about everything. It was great. I think I’ve turned him into a pirate yet.”

Emma’s lips curve up before she remembers who she’s talking to. It’s so easy for her to forget things when someone is gushing about Henry – she likes to think she isn’t a total screw-up when it comes to him – and she doesn’t need to be doing that, especially not around this guy.

“Look,” Emma starts as she crosses her arms over her chest, “thank you for spending time with Henry today. That was really nice of you, but I’m not going to suddenly fall into your arms because you know how to charm a kid. And I don’t want you thinking that I’ll date you if you’re nice to Henry. That’s not how this works, so if you’re using him to get to me, you can stop.”

His brows furrow together, two dark black patches of hair nearly forming into one, and the smile that was on his lips curves downward into a scowl as his shoulders straighten up to make him taller than she knows that he is. “You may not believe me, love, but I had no intention of using your kid to get in your pants. Don’t think so highly of yourself.”

And at that, he turns around and walks away, his coat swirling behind him, while Emma is left standing there wondering what the hell just happened.

-/-

For the next two weeks, Emma splits her time between waitressing, spending time with Henry, doing final run-throughs for Storybrooke Haunted Farms, and very occasionally sleeping. It’s hectic. Honestly, she might be delusional and imagining some of the things that have happened, but she’s going to chalk that up to lack of sleep and extreme physical activity. Her feet probably don’t fit in anything other than her sneakers because they’re so swollen from her standing for about eighteen hours a day.

It’s a lot.

But it’s also her favorite time of the year.

The temperatures have officially dipped to the point where she can wear jeans and a thick sweater every day while sipping on hot chocolate, and all of the leaves have changed colors so that everything just feels like fall. It’s the best time of the year, and Emma will not change her position on that.

Except, well, the fact that working at the Haunted Farm is an actual nightmare for her this year.

(They do, however, have a new kid’s attraction that’s a treasure hunt and not at all scary, and Emma is thankful that Mary Margaret got the idea and executed it so that Henry has somewhere to stay for a little while before Granny picks him up and takes him home to go to sleep.)

It’s going smoothly, relatively speaking. She’s got her routine down, even the part where she falls off the ship and suspends in the air while a speaker plays a splashing sound as fake thunder roars above them, and she’s got all of her scenes with Killian memorized to the point where she doesn’t jump when someone screams anymore….but it’s all like torture.

Emma has always prided herself over not caring too much about people she’s not close to so that she can save that emotional energy for something more important, but something about Killian Jones makes her feel horrible for pretty much being a bitch to him all the time. He is most definitely still this conceited, self-centered, far too flirtatious guy, but he is also the first person to help someone out when they get too freaked out by the jump scares, the guy who will bring people coffee (even her), and he never fails to make Henry smile even though Emma’s pretty sure that she scared Killian more than she has scared any of the people who pay to come to the Haunted Farms.

She hates it.

She hates that he’s probably a good person who wasn’t actually using Henry to get into her pants. That’s not something she’s totally decided on, but she feels a little more guilt every single time he opens his mouth to say something, takes one look at her, and then either turns away or makes some kind of innuendo that causes her cheeks to flame up.

Nothing about Killian Jones makes any sense, and for some reason her mind wants her to care about him.

It’s the law of proximity or something. That has to be it. They’re spending over half of their day together, every day, and it’s some kind of biological reaction to be tricked into wanting to know the other person so that things aren’t awkward.

Emma would honestly rather things just be awkward.

At least right now they’re in the middle of a shift, and there’s not exactly time to make awkward small talk. Instead, she’s sitting on a wooden barrel in the corner waiting for a new set of customers to walk across the bridge so that they can get this show on the road.

Or on the sea. It’s whatever.

The music starts playing over the speakers that are attached to the ship, and Emma slowly stands from the barrel, smoothing out her skirt and rubbing her hands over her arms to try to get the chill bumps to go away. It’s a little past ten o’clock, the sun having set several hours ago, and the only real light is coming from the way that the moon reflects off of the ocean. They’ve got these smoke machines out here to make everything look a little hazier, but it’s really not needed. It’s already hard to see a damn thing.

Killian follows right behind her, his duster hitting against her back, and she’s the slightest bit jealous that he gets to wear a coat. It’s under forty degrees out here right now, the ocean not helping that at all, and Emma is never going to be warm again.

“You ready to do this again?” she asks Killian.

“Aye,” he whispers back. “You know, I don’t mean to upset you Emma, but I think we make quite the team.”

A chuckle escapes from her without her permission, but she quickly corrects it and gets into position so that she and Killian can begin their fake fight.

Getting paid to fight with an (kind of) asshole? Quite possibly the greatest job she’s ever had.

They start their back and forth as people move closer to them, their eyes wide as they take in the ship from a new perspective, but Emma makes sure that her eyes only stay focused on Killian as he glowers above her with his hands resting on the buckle of his belt.

“But you said you loved me,” Emma screams out, pushing her hands against Killian’s chest.

“I’m a pirate, darling,” he seethes, stepping into her space and dipping his head down so that they are eye-to-eye. “I don’t love, especially when it comes to a bar wench like you. You’re more entertainment than anything else.”

Emma pushes back at him as she steps backward, moving closer and closer to the edge of the ship while Killian crowds her in, still spitting words at her to keep everyone entertained. Emma feels her harness tighten, the technician obviously preparing to fling her off of the ship now, and Emma sucks in a deep breath in preparation.

She is not working this attraction next year.

“It’s a pity that you thought I loved you, truly. I think you would have been nice to keep around.”

Her heart quickens at the sound of Killian’s words, the ones that are the final warning sound before she’s flung off of the ship, and then she’s being pulled back and suspended into the air, the harness tightening around her chest as the fake thunder rolls over the speakers and the audience gasps. They’re about to be scared shitless too. They just don’t know that part yet.

And then there’s a snap.

And Emma’s falling.

It’s quick, really. She doesn’t have time to think or do anything, not that there would be anything for her to do, before every last breath is being shocked out of her as sharp icicles poke around her and everything goes black.

The water is freezing around her, and her lungs are like bricks inside of her, the heaviness of her dress weighing her down, and even though Emma knows that she needs to swim to the surface, the shock of it all is making it a little difficult. She can’t see or breathe or even think, and her legs are simply kicking while her arms are flailing in search of something, anything.

She is not going to drown in the ocean wearing some kind of medieval dress.

She is not going to leave Henry this way.

Henry.

Oh shit. That seems to knock a bit more sense into her, or at least some kind of panic, and her arms are even more frantic as she’s moves through the icy water, just trying to find air.

She needs air.

Suddenly, Emma feels hands on her arms, and there’s actual movement happening, her body feeling it as she moves in what direction she thinks is up, and then for the first time in what feels like hours, she can breathe.

And she can see.

“Swan,” a voice gasps out, and she blinks away the salty water to see Killian’s face directly in front of hers, his hair matted down against his forehead. “Swan? Are you okay? Emma? Emma, are you alright, love?”

“Cold,” she manages to gasp out, and he nods his head in response before they’re moving again.

Emma’s senses are beginning to come back, but her head is still foggy. One moment she’s drowning in the darkness and the next she’s being pulled onto soft sand, her clothes feeling too heavy for her body to hold up. There are so many noises, voices and screams and the damn music still playing over the speakers, and Emma can’t focus on any of it. It’s too much stimuli, too many distractions, and she barely even notices the fact that Killian rips off a few layers of her dress before hoisting her into his arms while murmuring words she can’t quite pick up or understand.

What is happening?

“Emma,” Killian repeats, and all the sudden she looks around and she’s inside of one of the offices near the front of the farms. “Emma, I really need you to look at me, okay?”

She blinks a few more times before turning away from looking at the office to looking at Killian. His eyes are so blue. How is that possible?

“Do you think you can strip out of these clothes yourself? Or do you need help? I can do it or we can wait for Mary Margaret to get here. She’s on her way.”

Those words snap Emma back into reality, and she can feel absolutely…everything. Her lungs are burning, her skin is like ice, and it hurts to breathe right now. She probably hasn’t stopped shivering in hours.

“I need…you’ve got to undo the corset, and then I can do it.”

Killian nods his head before walking around her, his fingers quickly undoing the corset until it’s no longer constricting her chest, and that makes her breathe the slightest bit more easily. When he’s finished, he tells her to undress and change into the clothes that are sitting on the chair in front of her while telling her that he’s going to step into the other room to do the same.

Why does Killian have to do the same?

Oh, right, because he was in the water with her. He pulled her out of it.

Laughter bubbles up within her belly, warming her, while she sheds the last of the wet clothes and picks up a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that have Storybrooke Haunted Farms written across them in this awful orange color. But it’s either freeze to death naked or put them on, so she puts them on with still shivering limbs and laughter still escaping her lips.

Her harness broke, and she fell into the freezing cold ocean.

Holy shit.

“Swan?” Killian asks as he steps back into the room wearing the same awful clothing that she’s wearing. “Why are you laughing?”

“Did I,” she starts, unable to finish. “Did I…did I…did I fall into the fucking ocean and have to be rescued while working at a fake haunted ship? Is that a real thing that just happened to me?”

“Aye,” he says a bit hesitantly before picking up a blanket and wrapping it around her while his hands rub up and down her shoulders. Holy shit that feels good. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Emma laughs, leaning forward to bury her face in Killian’s shoulder. He’s warm. How is he warm? He was in the water too. She knows that she didn’t hallucinate that. It was real. “No, I’m not okay. What even is happening? This is ridiculous, and I’m still not convinced that I’m not going to roll over in bed and wake up to find Henry having poured a bucket of ice down my back or something like that.”

Killian’s chest moves beneath hers, and she feels his hand shift from her arm to her back, quickly moving up and down over the blanket. It feels so good and warm, and she might stay like this forever.

“Is that something the lad would do?”

“No, not at all. He’s too good for that. It’s something I did as a kid, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, I hated my foster dad one time, and he refused to turn the heat up to make it warmer in the rest of the house, so I poured a bucket of ice on his bed. I got reassigned to a different house two days later, but let me tell you, it was worth it.”

Killian laughs again, and she feels it underneath her cheek. “That sounds exactly like something you would do. My brother used to pull shit like that, too, to our dad. He was always getting onto me for misbehaving, but then he’d cut holes in the crotch of Dad’s trousers.”

“This the brother that went to the Police Academy with David?”

“One and the same.”

“Where does he live now? Is he moving here too?”

Killian’s hand stills against her back, just for a brief moment, before starting up again as Emma nuzzles her nose a little further into his t-shirt that smells like detergent. Later, Emma knows that she’ll regret holding onto him like this, but right now, all she cares about is the fact that she’s finally starting to feel warm.

“Liam was killed in the line of duty two years ago, so I don’t think he’ll be moving from his plot in Boston.”

Emotion burns in Emma’s throat, weighed down by everything else that’s happened tonight, and someone should probably take her to the hospital for lack of airflow. This can’t be healthy. “I’m sorry, Killian.”

“Don’t be. ‘Tis not your fault. It is why I moved here, though. Believe it or not, it wasn’t to push you off of a ship while people are chased around by zombies wielding paintball guns. It was somewhere with a familiar face without having to move back to England, where I haven’t actually lived since I was a teenager.”

Emma huffs into Killian’s neck before wrapping her arms around his waist and rubbing up and down his back in the same way that he’s doing now. She doesn’t like to think that she needs saving, and she usually doesn’t…but tonight she did, and the least she can do is help to warm him up in the same way that he’s doing to her.

“I moved from Boston too, actually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “That’s where…I met Henry’s dad the summer before my senior year of high school. He was older, cooler, you know? And I found out I was pregnant halfway through that year. It was…” She stops, not really wanting to get into all of it with this man she doesn’t really know as well as not wanting to relieve it for herself. “It wasn’t a good time, pretty much, and I needed someplace new. This town has pretty much been the only thing that’s kept me on my feet.”

“Technically, it knocked you right off of them tonight.”

It’s the perfect time to make a joke. Honestly and truly it is because Emma could already feel herself pulling away and becoming uncomfortable with where this conversation was heading. She doesn’t just tell people about Neal or being in foster homes or any of it, and here she is letting it all out to a man she told herself not to get close to.

It’s also the exact moment that Mary Margaret walks in followed by David, and she and Killian spring apart so that they’re no longer standing together. Mary Margaret worries over the two of them, talking far faster than usual and giving them both jackets and more blankets along with socks, all of them from the merchandising table, before David hands them cups of hot chocolate, which may be the best hot chocolate that Emma has ever had.

That’s saying a lot considering how Emma is with her hot chocolate.

Things are overwhelming and wild as David explains the mechanics behind her harness snapping, and as quickly as David and Mary Margaret come in to check on the two of them, they’re having to leave to go check on the crises that are happening around town, and she’s left sitting in an office, still shivering the slightest bit, wondering where the hell does she go from here.

The answer to that question is apparently nowhere. She and Killian get sent home that night with instructions to come back in the morning for new assignments and to fill out some paperwork over the incident. They’re having to alter the performance that happens down at the ship, apparently, and while Emma expects to simply have her role slightly change, she ends up getting assigned to the hayride path with Killian. It’s a little sad to have to do this halfway through the month, but at least now she can wear jeans and flannel and hide her hair under a terrifying mask instead of having to have it teased every day.

And she won’t be falling into icy cold waters either. That’s definitely a plus.

Killian takes to scaring people on the hayride like a champ. He easily manages to jump up onto the trailer, oftentimes without anyone noticing, before screaming bloody murder and making everyone else do the same. One time, he manages to sit down between two couples without them noticing because they’re too busy sticking their tongues down each other’s throats, and the way they jump when Killian claps his hands together makes Emma jump off of the trailer and stumble back into the woods so that she can laugh without breaking character.

What she would give to have their faces on camera.

Things…shift in a way once they start working on the hayride instead of the ship. Emma had seen Killian’s good side before, had acknowledged it if even only to herself, but she still rejected it in a way. She didn’t want to see him as anything other than a cocky asshole who was using being nice to Henry to get into her pants, so Emma didn’t let her perception of him change.

Not until now.

Killian’s still a cocky asshole, but Emma’s starting to understand that the innuendos and his flirting might be a defense system. There’s something underneath the smirks and moving eyebrows, and while Emma doesn’t necessarily want to find out what it all is, she wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to it.

And he really is good with Henry, which Emma actually appreciates.

Apparently, when Killian isn’t scaring people for money, he works at Henry’s school as a receptionist for the front office as some kind of temp job, something no one seemed to deem important enough to tell her. Emma only found out when she called up to check Henry out to take him to a dentist appointment and she heard a familiar voice on the phone.

And now, somehow, he’s sitting across from her on a park picnic table as Henry climbs up and down the playground, his movement only slightly stilted by the giant puffer jacket that Emma has on him. She has no idea how Killian was out here running with only a thin pullover on.

“So, is he still going to be a pirate for Halloween tomorrow, or has that changed now that his mum has gotten pushed off a pirate ship and shunned to the hayride? I guess he could be a scarecrow, but I’m pretty sure six-year-olds aren’t into that.”

“No,” Emma sighs as Killian moves across the monkey bars and Emma braces herself for disaster, “I don’t think he would be. He’s got the pirate costume and still wants to do that. I’ve had to keep him from wearing it around the house so that he doesn’t mess it up before tomorrow.”

Killian raises his brow. “How exactly are you going to take him trick or treating when we have work? Isn’t that something that happens once the sun has set?”

“He’s six. we go in the middle of the afternoon, and then I drop him off to stay with Granny for the night. It’s not the best situation, but it’s what works for us.”

“You’re a good mum, Swan.” Emma feels hear rise in her cheeks, and she reaches up to brush her hair behind her ears. “With a good kid.”

“Yeah, he is pretty great, isn’t he?”

“Mom,” Henry shouts as he jumps down from the playground and runs toward the two of them, his cheeks flushed and hair pushed back off of his forehead, “I have an idea.”

“Oh yeah?”

He nods his head, bright smile on his face, before stepping closer to her and cupping his hands around his mouth up against her ears. “Killian should come trick or treating with us tomorrow, and you can give him some candy to tell him that you like him.”

Emma nearly falls off the bench, and her heart takes off like a freaking rocket. For one, Henry just said that loud enough for everyone in Storybrooke to hear, but mostly, he just said that so that Killian could hear.

But also, why in the world does Henry think that she likes Killian? Where the hell did he get that idea.

Hesitantly, Emma looks over to Killian to see that he’s on his phone, very obviously faking texting someone, and as much as she appreciates it, there’s no getting around the fact that he heard Henry say that she likes him.

Which she doesn’t.

Not at all.

That would be ridiculous. And dumb. And a horrible, horrible idea.

But he is a very pretty man on, like, a vain level, and Emma will admit that she can sometimes be a little bit into vanity. And he is good at banter and flirting and making her laugh and causing a smile to curl onto her lips. Maybe, just maybe, there might be butterflies the flutter around in her stomach, but Emma has very adamantly been chalking that up to the fact that her eating hasn’t been the most healthy lately.

No, she doesn’t like him. That’s not a thing that happens.

Except maybe it is because she does get excited to go to work, possibly a little bit more than usual, and there are times when she purposefully makes sure that she inches a little bit closer to him so that they have to talk.

Oh shit, her six-year-old just had an emotional revelation for her, and she doesn’t know how to feel about it.

Feelings are not her strong suit.

And neither is dating a man who her son is attached to. That’s just…what happens when he leaves? They always leave, and while Henry hasn’t known Killian for that long, she just knows him not showing up anymore would upset him.

But Killian wouldn’t do that, right?

“You know what, Henry,” Emma starts slowly, her voice cracking a little bit, “you have to ask Killian if he wants to come with us, okay? He might be busy.”

“Okay,” Henry whisper-shouts back at her before walking across the table and whisper-shouting into Killian’s ear as well. “Will you come trick or treating with us tomorrow and let my mom give you candy because she likes you?”

Emma groans and lets her head fall to the picnic bench, not caring about the weird stickiness that’s left there. Anything could be better than this.

“Yeah, lad,” Killian chuckles, and Emma peeks up to see Killian winking at her, “I think I can do both of those things.”

Killian shows up at her apartment the next day wearing his full-pirate garb, eyeliner and fake jewelry included, and it goes along perfectly with Henry’s costume as well as the costume she’s wearing. It’s not the bar wench one because that is in a trashcan somewhere, but it is the one that includes pants and these really cool boots and a vest that she’d probably like to wear on days that it’s not Halloween. Emma ignores the fact that they look like a family, especially when at least ten different people comment about how cute they all are, because this is about Henry and his happiness. This isn’t about the battle that’s been happening in her mind for the last thirty-six hours.

There is absolutely no reason for her to be able to have good things like this. She’s a screw up foster kid who has never had anyone love her the way that she thinks she’s supposed to be love, but she has this kid who, even on his worst days, she would do absolutely anything for. He came from such a dark place in her life, one that she didn’t think she could get out of, but here she is in a town that supports the both of them.

With someone who has spent the past hour talking in a strange accent to indulge Henry and make him laugh while they stuff their face with more candy than Emma would usually allow.

Today is a good day.

And it continues that way when she drops Henry off with Granny so that she and Killian can go to work, the two of them changing out of their pirate garb and back into comfortable jeans and flannel with the ridiculous masks that they’ve been changing up every day. It’s one last day, one last night, and Emma can’t wait to share the shit out of some people.

-/-

“Did you see her face?” Killian chuckles as they walk through the woods back to the clearing behind the front office building. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone be so terrified by a clown mask.”

“Clowns are creepy. That’s why they make horror films about them.”

“Aye, I know, but you have to admit that the woman’s face was priceless.”

Emma bumps her shoulder into Killian’s, and he looks down at her to smile, the moon reflecting off of half of his face. Those damn butterflies are not moving around in her stomach at the sight of his smile. Nope. Not at all.

“It was,” she admits as a few hundred people come into view, all of the employees over the past month gathering together for the wrap party that Mary Margaret and David throw for everyone full of drinks and junk food and all of the Halloween candy in the world. “That’s what will have to carry me over until next year.”

“Good. You want to grab some pizza and a few beers and go hit the hay?”

“You want to go to sleep?”

“No, Swan,” he laughs as his hand comes up to wrap around her shoulder, “not quite yet. I meant we can go sit in the trailer of the hayride. No one seems to have occupied it.”

Emma’s eyes glance over to where the trailer is parked, and it is, indeed, empty. “Yeah, I think that would be okay.”

They load up on food and drinks, carefully balancing them in their hands, before walking over to the trailer and easily climbing up onto the trailer, settling down into the middle and placing their plates of food up onto the haybales. She’s probably going to have hay stuck in her clothes and her hair for the next week and a half, but it might almost be worth it.

The pizza and beer are cheap, but after hours of running around, that doesn’t matter to Emma at all. Besides, the conversation is good, Killian telling her about his adventures in interviewing with Leroy to see if he can get a job on his construction crew since that’s apparently what he did back in Boston after he left the Navy earlier than planned due to Liam’s death.

There’s so much that she doesn’t know about him, that she can’t know after only knowing him for a month and a half and only tolerating him for a little less than that, but maybe Henry was right in his assumption that she might just like the guy who pushed her off a ship and almost caused her to accidentally drown.

Something she likes to remind him quite frequently only for him to remind her that it wasn’t his fault and that he did save her.

They can agree to disagree.

(They’re both technically right.)

A sharp wind comes moves through the woods, and a shiver runs down Emma’s spine so that she has to tighten her coat around her a little bit more. She needs a beanie, pretty much desperately, but there’s not a lot she can do about any of that right now. She’s been colder than this before. She’ll last.

And it’s such a nice night with the stars up in the sky and the moon shining overhead, no deadlines or schedules looming over her for at least a few days, and all Emma can do is relax in it, leaning back into Killian’s shoulder and sighing in relief.

He taps his foot against hers then, and Emma ignores it. But then he does it again and again and again until she looks over at him to see him holding a Kit Kar bar in between his fingers.

“What?” Emma groans. “Why are you being so annoying?”

His eyelashes flutter down then, just for a moment, before he’s looking up at her with a soft smile that she’s only seen from him a few times before. “I want to give you this piece of candy.”

“Um, why?”

His eyes roll, and Emma doesn’t know what to think of it because there’s really no reason for him to be so exasperated. “Your son, brilliant lad that he is, told me that if I like you, I should give you some candy. This is me giving you candy.”

Oh.

Emma’s heart stutters. Actually, it probably completely stops. She’s having a hard time knowing exactly what’s going on when her head is a mess, a mix of alcohol and confusing feelings and a little bit of being terrified of making the wrong mood, but Killian most definitely just took dating advice from a six-year-old and told her that he has feelings for her.

She’s really not ready for Henry to start dating if he’s going to be able to do things like this.

With a small, trembling smile on her face, Emma turns around and finds a red Starburst on her plate and reaches over to hand it to Killian, whose smile stretches up to his eyes now. “Okay, but just so you know, this candy is going to come with some stipulations, okay?”

“Like what, Swan?” Killian asks even as the rough pads of his fingers come to cup her cheek, pulling her closer to him so that their mouths are so close that she can’t tell whose breath is whose as it comes out in white puffs of air. “Because if it’s about Henry, he’s already given me a stern talking to about how I’m only allowed to make you happy and not sad like his dad did.”

“Did he really?”

“Aye, love, he did. And I understand that there will be boundaries and limitations and that Henry comes first. I want him to come first, always. I just – ”

Emma doesn’t let him finish before she’s pressing forward and gliding her lips over his and wrapping her arms around his neck in one swift moment. They’re both still at first, and Emma takes in the fact that his cold lips taste like pizza, beer, and chocolate. It’s not the best combination in the world taste-wise, but it is pretty good in general. So is the kiss when Killian starts moving his lips against hers, tugging her closer with his hand and tilting her head to the side to deepen the kiss, mouths quickly opening and tongues lightly swirling together in a slick, wet slide.

She’s had first kisses before, more than she’d care to admit, and as absolutely magnificent as a lot of them were, Emma doesn’t think her heart has ever felt quite this way – like a mix of happiness and magic and a little bit of Halloween spirit.

It is the best holiday of the year, after all. She can be whoever she wants.

Right now, though, she doesn’t want to be anyone other than Emma Swan or be anywhere other than in this moment.

-/-

They don’t tell Henry that they’re dating for four more months. It’s hard to keep from him, honestly, but Emma knows that it’s for the best. Things could still go wrong, her fears are still valid, and Henry is easy to accept the fact that Killian sometimes spends a little bit more time with them than usual. But still as his mom’s friend.

It’s pretty easy for Henry to accept when Killian makes the transition from friend to boyfriend.

Even easier when he goes from his mom’s boyfriend to his step-father. It makes picking out family costumes for Halloween even easier.

(Emma is ignoring that Henry will eventually grow out of liking doing that.)

Killian gives her a piece of candy every day to make sure that Emma knows that he has feelings for her.

She’s got a pretty good idea.

#Storybrooke haunted farms #cs hallloweek #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #Captain Swan #captain cobra

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roastingyaoigirl13 · 5 years ago

Text

Story Idea ADDED ON AS WELL AS EDITED

Title: The Song We Heard That Day.

Loosely Based on Mermaid Melody

Summary: After her kingdom is destroyed, Princess Marion of the Red Pearl has no other choice but to walk on land and take on the identity of Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Marinette:

Princess of the Red Pearl as well as the North Atlantic Ocean (Which is the Ocean Near France). She is about 20 years old and her name in the mermaid world is Marion, however, in the human world, it translates to Marinette. In both human and mermaid forms, she has her regular hair color-black with blue hues. In her mermaid form, her hair is long and loose, having long rose red ribbons in her hair. She wears her princess red shell pendant, which holds her red magical pearl. Her eyes are a light red when in mermaid form and blue when in human form. In mermaid form, her tail is crimson like her ladybug suit, wine-colored pearl bangles are wrapped around the end of her tail. She also wears a light red seashell bra and has a red bracelet around her right upper arm. She wears orange-red conch shell earrings in her mermaid form, while in human form she wears ladybug themed earrings. In her idol form, she wears a long dark red halter neck dress with a slit on the right side. She wears a light red sash around her waist neatly tied into a large ribbon. She wears a rose gold opal ring on her left hand and a red pearl bracelet. She wears short strapless scarlet heels with frills on the top. Her long black hair is tied into two long thick pigtails by two red pearled scrunchies. Idol Marinette holds a white and blue microphone which holds her red pearl. In her Aqua Regin form, she wears a long sweetheart neckline white dress that hugs her figure just right. She holds a gold staff and wears white heels. Her hair is completely down cascading around her feet. Her eyes are blue like her human form.

Reason for coming on land:

She comes onto land due to her castle being attacked. She is accompanied by Tikki, basically her lady in waiting.

Songs:

Promise Land ( Mermaid Melody)

Missing You ( Kana Nishino)

Legend of the Mermaid ( Mermaid Melody, AmaLee version)

More will be added eventually

Traits: Since she's a mermaid, they are quite smart and know all the land languages. She speaks mermaid, however, can speak every other language.

She’s great at making things as well as designing things, She’s a fast learner which is great since there’s a lot for her to learn on Land.

She met Adrien when she was 8 years old by a lagoon ( maybe)

She met Adrien after she saves him(too cliche)

Adrian: Age 21

Panthalassa ( Meaning “All Sea” in Greek) origin

Adrian and Felix are twin boys that were born on the day of the Great Sea War. Out of desperation to keep the bloodline and power of the Panthalassa alive, the people of the Panthalassa gave their remaining strength to the twin boys, giving them the power, as long as they were united, to destroy the world and everything on it. When the Aqua Regina found out, she separated the boys and their powers. Felix held the power of Darkness and was locked away in the Panthalassa castle, while his younger brother was given the power of light and was washed up on the shore, where Emile and Gabriel raised him. Both his parents died due to Bridgette unlocking Felix, which caused a horrible storm.

Adrian has no idea about where he comes from ( He finds a letter from his parents explaining he’s adopted, shortly after their death) but suffers from, what he thinks are “nightmares”, when in actuality he is seeing things from Felix’s perspective. Adrian has the power of light and will often faint when he overexerts himself. He uses his powers often to save Marion (Marinette) from danger. His personality is a mixture of chat noir and his normal personality in the show, however, due to him feeling lied to by his parents and having lost them, he does have some destructive behavior. Adrian has a tendency to drink and party hard. He can be quiet flirtatious and cheeky, but at the same time, he can be an ass at times due to his hurting in the inside. Like his brother, Adrian feels alone in the world, however, he prefers to suffer alone about it. It would be interesting to write him this way. Adrian wears different outfits every day and is very well off due to inheriting all of his parent’s assets. Since his parents died out in the sea he has developed a hate for it, though this is only apparent when drunk. Before his parent’s death, he would often play by the beach by the summer house his parents owned, which is where he met Marion (Marinette). He heard her singing one day and since that day they played every day until his parent’s death. After his parents died and since they were extremely famous, Adrian left France to live in the summer house in order to never be found by the press. This story takes place in a distant town that is completely made up that is on a remote island by France. Adrian doesn’t talk much about his parents and is very protective of his past. He was 8 years old when he met Marion and thought he had made her up but one night when he was walking by the beach he heard her singing, that’s when they were reunited again. Before Marion / Marinette showed up again, Adrian has an on and off-again relationship with Kagami.

Felix: Age 22

Panthalassa Clan

Felix was cursed with the powers of darkness, which made him get the shorthand of the stick, in terms of fate. He was cursed to live all alone, having only the deep-sea animals around him as companions. He wears a black Victorian style dress shirt, black leather pants, as well as black pointy shoes. His hair is like PV Chat Noir trailer, wild and untamed. He talks softly only to Bridgette and is very impatient, in regards to his servants. He met Bridgette when he was just a small boy and would dream visit her. At first, he thought Bridgette was a figment of his imagination, but later figured out she was real. They were linked due to their lonely hearts and found comfort in each other. He loves Bridgette and would do anything to make her happy, which is why he is trying to capture all the mermaid princesses and his twin brother in order for them to be together. Felix’s biggest fear is to lose Bridgette. They have a very physical relationship.

Bridgette: Age 20

Once the kind and caring indigo princess, Bridgette now lives in the dark. She has a cold exterior when talking to anyone who isn’t Felix. Her hair that was once Periwinkle, has now turned completely black, while her eyes remain blue. She wears a long black strapless silk dress and covers her hair with a black cloth making it hard to see her face at times. Felix is the only one that knows she’s in the castle, keeping the sea demons in the dark of her presence. She cares deeply for Felix and very much loves him. She turned her back on her kingdom when she stole the key that locked away Felix in his castle and released him. They have a very physical relationship. She betrayed her kingdom when she found out the sad fate that Felix had to live. At a young age, she would have constant dreams about Felix, thinking they were just part of her imagination. Bridgette has always felt lonely in life due to her kingdom keeping her locked away from others. She felt suffocated in her own kingdom, finding peace with Felix. Wanting to give him the freedom he deserved and the chance to be together, Bridgette stole the Panthalassa key and freed him. Her hopes are to capture the other princesses and find Felix’s brother in order for them to rule the world together.

Alya: Age 21

In Slavonic, "Alya" means "beautiful" or "scarlet", possibly a reference to her red-brown hair. In Arabic, "Alya" means "sky," "heaven", or "loftiness".

She is the Princess of the Indian Ocean and the holder of the orange pearl. She is the only Princess to use her Ocean name on Land. Alya’s kingdom was attacked before Marinette, therefore she has been on land for a while.On land, Alya has her original hair color and length ( wavy reddish-brown Ombre hair). When she is in her mermaid form her hair is much longer and thicker and is tied into a high ponytail with an orange pearl covered scrunchies. She wears an orange-gold pearl headband crown, a treasure in the Indian Ocean Kingdom. Her hair turns into a red-orange, while her eyes turn from hazel to pale orange-yellow (Apricot). In her mermaid form, her tail is orange. Wrapped around the end of her tail are gold bangles. She wears an orange choker which is connected to a sheer orange shawl that stops midriff and parts in the middle of her chest. Like Marinette, she wears a bracelet around her upper right arm, expect its pumpkin color. She wears a vivid red-orange ( Coral) seashell bra and of course her princess orange shell pendant. In her idol form, she wears something that can only be described as a belly dancing outfit similar to Princess Jazmin. Alaya’s crown now has a sheer orange veil that covers her now loose red-orange hair. She wears a strong orange (orange peel color ) off-shoulder short sleeve crop top. The crop top is decorated with different shades of orange beads. Alya also wears a simple orange pearl belly chain.She wears sheer orange harem pants with an orange-yellow high street lace-up gladiator styled sandals that are tied onto the pants. She has an orange studded nose piercing and wears orange bangles on both her wrist. She also holds a white and blue microphone that holds her pearl as well.

When it comes to her songs for some reason I really was living for Alya having a style like Doja Cat in Say So. I don’t know why I went for that but honestly, it felt like it fir her. I would love to give her an Arabic song to sing as her mains song but I need help for that.

The songs I have her singing in the story so far:

Say So

Plastic Love Cover by Caitlin Myers

Tikki owns a club where Alya performs under the name “Rena Rouge”. She dances and sings. I picture her being very flirtatious and alluring, which is a trait all mermaids have. She’s a vixen when performing at the club. It’s at the club that she meets Nino. Alya plays hard to get, making sure to tease Nino until he begs for more.

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treatian · 5 years ago

Text

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Dark Curse

Chapter 130: Just a Normal Conversation

The best way to prove that what he'd seen was nothing but his imagination was to show that nothing had changed. He had to prove a negative. And for that he had to make sure that things carried on between them as it usually would have so that when he sent her away one day, he'd know for sure. It helped, he thought, that the castle was getting busier, that people were coming to him again, and they'd resumed their normal business almost entirely. She was cleaning again, he was working, he'd even popped out a few times to see Regina and to spy on George, making sure he was good and broke. The panic hadn't quite set in with him yet, but he could feel that he was nearing that. That was a vision he knew he could trust, it was one that made sense given the Kingdom's affairs.

Still, even with the busyness he continued to enjoy their talks over tea, even if he knew he shouldn't. It was really the only time they spent together acknowledging one another. They shared meals, but they weren't chatty. Tea time gave them the opportunity to talk about the one thing they had in common: books. Well-read as she was, she could talk for hours if he let the conversation go on that long. She saw the stories not only as they were but also the deeper meaning behind them, as well as things like symbolism and foreshadowing that he had to admit were lost on him. He wasn't aware if she knew it or not, but he usually read what she did, just well after she'd read it. Once she placed it on her shelf, he was happy to grab it and explore it secretly.

But today, as he glanced over her shoulder to figure out what she was reading, he was more than happy to find a book that he was familiar with. He'd gotten it in a deal once, thinking it would be informative, but at the end of the day, he'd found no value to it. He didn't want to leave it out in plain sight, considering where it had come from and that it might encourage questions he didn't want to answer, but…had he really put it in her library? Was that one of the books that he'd summoned up there? Apparently, he had, but…she had no idea what she really held in her hands right now. He wondered, what did she make of the strangeness of it?

"I've always been rather fond of that one myself," he commented to initiate the conversation. He enjoyed their talks, and he really thought that she did as well, but sometimes pulling her out of a book could be a difficult task. He'd noticed a correlation depending on how bent over the book she was. If the book rested on her lap and her back was curled over examining it as the rest of her body stilled, then it was a good one. If the book rested on her lap, she kept her head on the back of the chair, her hand idly moving over a leg or the chair's arm, it was less than captivating. Those were the days that she was easy to distract and even did some of the distracting herself. Other times, like now, he could tell that she was itching to return to it. Conversation always brought her some relief, but it wasn't as good as reading it.

"Yes," she agreed with a smile while he poured himself another cup of tea. "I'm enjoying it as well. I've never heard of the author though…" he turned just in time to see her close the book and look at the cover. "'C.S. Lewis,'" she read aloud. "I was hoping to read more from him, unless this is the only thing he's ever written."

"It's the only thing in my library," he answered confidently.

She gave a small nod and cast her eyes down at it sadly. He felt a pain in his chest at her disappointment and had a stray thought that he wished he had better news for her, but he willed both the thought and the pain away. The visions weren't real. He didn't feel anything for her. And he could prove it by carrying on a normal conversation with her and continuing to feel nothing.

"Although I find it hard to believe that a writer like that would only write one book," he added quickly. He wasn't quite the scholar she was, but given the book's background he knew that much. As to whether or not the author had written more…he didn't know. One day, hopefully soon, he would be in a world where he had that answer, but until that day arrived, speculation was all he had. And a little hope could go a long way, especially with someone like her.

"I don't suppose you could look for me?" she asked carefully, looking entirely unsure about the comment. He could understand why. It was a request that made the voices in his head scream at him; all negative things, of course. Looking for a book for her was a far cry from ignoring her and giving her dresses in secret. To actively look for something for her…

But was he going to turn her down because he didn't want to do it? Because it was inappropriate? Or because it was a step that would make those images true? He wasn't afraid of his imagination. He wasn't afraid of it because it wasn't true. And this was exactly the kind of proof he needed. He could look for a book for her, and send her away one day when he learned the truth, because she didn't mean anything and never would.

"I'll look," he answered. She blushed and he quickly put his nose down so he could sip at his tea. There, things could continue as they normally would have and it meant nothing. Nothing! It was just a simple conversation, one like they might have had before his mind had wandered. Everything was fine.

Except for the way her heart raced at the news.

He'd look for the book for her, but she had to understand the chances of ever finding something like it, in this world, were slim to none.

"But I should warn you," he corrected quickly. "Even if more exist, the chances of coming across one are slim."

"Why?" she inquired, looking confused at his statement. Perhaps she really didn't noticed…

"Not all the books in that library are from our realm," he informed her, watching her carefully for her reaction to his words. What would she think of it all, he wondered. "That one, for example, I got in a trade. It's rare, coming from A Land Without Magic."

"Another realm…" she muttered. Her tone was one of amazement and confusion. She trusted him and his words, obviously, but he didn't know if she believed it all, clearly. "Another world? A land without magic?!"

"My, my, my, Dearie, you didn't think this was the only one, did you?"

"I've heard stories, but I never assumed it was true!" she blanched.

"The stories you've heard are true," he smiled, looking into the fireplace. "Worlds of all shapes and sizes, histories and realities, ones you've read about and ones you could never dream up for a thousand years. Worlds too numerous for even I to count. But getting to those worlds is a task all on its own, especially the ones where magic doesn't thrive. Thus why relics, like the one you're holding, are so rare."

He watched as she shook her head looking utterly baffled and overwhelmed. She put her head back against the chair, taking it all in, he assumed. She was a smart woman, it wasn't often he could teach her something, but he liked the way that he had now. She'd heard the stories but didn't believe them. But she did now? Just because he said so, she believed it? Why did that fill him with a gust of pride that made him want to stick out his chest and challenge that fiancé of hers to a duel?

"You suppose it's real?" she questioned suddenly, demanding his attention once more. "Do you suppose there is a world like this?" she asked, motioning to the book. "With a Devil, Wormwood, an Uncle named Screwtape?"

Her eyes were desperate, searching his own for an answer he wasn't entirely sure about. The book came from The Land Without Magic and he'd been told it was a fictional story there, a fortunate thing, otherwise he probably would have assumed that was how that world really was. And perhaps it was, for all he knew? Maybe that land did have devils and angels as the book suggested, but the truth was he didn't know. But was it possible for angels and devils to exist in another world? One with or without magic? He didn't see why not.

"I'm sure it's always possible."

It was a vague answer but not on purpose. If he could have told her definitively one way or another he would have. Just to get that look off her face. The look of…confusion?

"Why did you want it?" she asked quietly, keeping her eyes trained on the book in front of her.

"What?"

He saw her swallow nervously then finally glance up at him. "Why would you want it? The book, I mean. If it came from A Land Without Magic, then it must not hold any magic or power? Why would you want it?"

"It's rare," he responded simply, but he had a feeling that the question was anything but simple. What was she getting at?

"If its rarity meant something to you, it would have a place and be better taken care of than this. Why exchange anything for a simple book weathering away in the library with no magical value?"

"Because it came from that realm," he snapped before he could catch himself. That was what she was getting at? She wanted to know his interest in another realm? Or in that realm in particular? He couldn't understand why that was important to her or to anyone. "I thought it might be helpful, informative, but it's a simple yet brilliant work of fiction and nothing more."

"Helpful? Informative? What-"

Before she could finish her thought or he could figure out what she was working through in her head, there was an unmistakable bang at the door that meant a visitor had arrived. He didn't have any meetings scheduled, so he could only assume it was someone coming to make a deal with him. It was one of the rare times he could honestly say he was torn. He needed to go back to work, it was what he normally would have done, but he could tell that she was coming up with something and he couldn't decide if he wanted to ignore the door and stay to hear her theories or stay just to shut them down.

Leave. Obviously, he was going to leave. The visions were nothing, and he wouldn't pretend like they were something. In a normal day, he would leave her and go make his deal.

"Back to work," he declared, moving quickly away from her and to the door. "Enjoy your book," he tossed over his shoulder, wishing he could stay and enjoy it with her.

#Rumbelle #Rumple #Rumpelstiltskin #Dark One #Belle #ouat #ouat fanfiction #fanfic

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selfdestructivecat · 6 years ago

Text

I just finished playing Ace Attorney Investigations 2. And HOLY SHIT.

This game has been absolutely incredible and I feel the overwhelming urge to rant about how incredible it is. So SPOILER WARNING because I will be spoiling the crap out of this game.

Where to begin? I loved the intricate cases, and how they all built upon each other, forming one large mystery that we much uncover. Each case, while all being so different and distinct, each possessed their own charm.

The first case, even though it was a tutorial, reintroduced our favorite prosecutor/detective/Great Thief trio in an interesting introduction that was challenging while also simplistic enough to gain our bearing, in addition to laying the foundation for the rest of the cases and introducing many key figures.

The second case, instead of being the first of the filler cases usually introduced in an AA game, surprised me by having the culprit in the first case turn out to be the new victim. This case also introduced some AWESOME characters, such as Justine, Sebastion (my beautiful boy), and Dogen, who is SUCH A BADASS! Honestly, I love everything about this man and I will be sure to rant about him later on. And come on, who doesn’t like a good prison escape? The scene of the crime was probably one of my favorites in the game, and the inclusion of the animals added charm to the environment and many of the otherwise dull prisoners. The case itself was also lots of fun. It was so satisfying to refute all of DeBeste’s smug and completely illogical theories and to bring Roland to justice.

The third case, while being my least favorite of the five, was also lots of fun and had so many good moments. I LOVED playing as Gregory Edgeworth! He was so similar to Miles, and yet possessed a gentler and quieter nature that contrasted nicely to Edgeworth’s sharper personality. In every remark he made, he showed how good of a person he was, addressing everyone politely and patiently guiding Ray. AND HIS THOUGHTS ABOUT HIS SON! You can tell how much he cares about Miles though him constantly thinking about him and worrying about him. He thinks about introducing the show the suspect stars in to his son, debates gathering treats for his son’s Christmas present, and overall demonstrates how much he loved him. HE DESERVED BETTER, GODDAMMIT VON KARMA! The case was also fun to play, and battling against the Stature of Limmitations (which has come up in many past AA cases) was a nice challenge. Overall, really enjoyed this case, although many of the new characters introduced in this case lacked the charm other characters showed, at least in my opinion.

Sadly, the case of Kay’s amnesia was spoiled to me when I accidentally read about it in a gorgeous fancomic on tumblr (which was entirely my fault, I just wanted more Edgeworth content and ignored the risks. I thought I learned my lesson with Merlin, but I guess I’ll never change XD). However, I was still shocked and immensely saddened when I saw the state she was in. And when Miles gave away his badge (how he did it with no hesitation! I believe, in his words, he said “it was nothing compared to the life of a dear friend”) GOD MY HEART! I didn’t think I could love him any more than I already did, but I was so so wrong. And Gumshoe wanting to stick with Edgeworth even when he wasn’t a prosecutor anymore! The mystery surrounding the smuggling ring was super interesting and a lot of fun to learn about, and the connections that were beginning to form between this case and all the previous cases definitely created some jaw-dropping moments. And of course, bringing Blaise DeBeste to justice was oh so sweet (although it hurt so much to see Sebastian in so much pain). This case was such a tear-jerker in the many emotions it created, both happy and sad, and I wish I could forget all about it so I could play it again.

Finally, the last case. BOY was this case a ride. The longest of all the cases, I thought it ended twice before it did, every time going “wait, there’s MORE!?” as another cutscene played. And I loved every second of it. First of all, another lovable character is introduced in John. John also gives us another reason to love Justine, who is actually John’s doting adoptive mother. Aside from that, the case itself was deliciously complex and intricate, introducing twist after twist to create an exciting story, while also tying up loose ends created by all the previous cases. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what those monster footprints could have been! And the reveal with Knightly and Simon being the two lost sons!? This realization left me speechless. However, my favorite part of this case was Sebastian’s triumph over his father. Seeing tied up and in tears following his kidnappjng, questioning everything he’s ever believed in, was heartbreaking. However, his helplessness made his redemption so much sweeter. I am honestly so proud of him.

And now, the characters! God, does Capcom know how to make characters! I loved the return of old, familiar faces like Penny Nikohl (I definitely butchered that last name), Regina Berry, and the mysterious and oh so badass Shelly de Killer (although I could have done without a few... looking at you Lotta!). And the new characters were also very cool! I could go on and on about Sirhan Dogen and Anubis. Even while behind bars and making absolutely no threats whatsoever, he still holds a intimidating presence with his piercing white eyes, the hulking figure of a huge black dog over his shoulder, and the soft, menacing music playing in the background, accompanied by the quiet ringing of bells. I just... I can’t get enough of this man. And his controntatuon with de Killer was awesome!!! I honestly just can’t get enough of him. Raymond was also a really fun character. I liked how he interacted with Edgeworth and Kay, as well as his sense of humor. However, despite his goofy personality, there were many touching moments involving him, such as the two photos he took (one with him and Gregory, the other with him and Miles). Such a beautifully complex character. Other characters like John and Simon were also very cool and interesting (I especially liked the twist with the latter. Seriously, I did NOT see that coming!) However, there were also a few characters I simply disliked. Many of the characters in the third case were either a bit too extra, such as Master, Hall, and Delicia, or had much less personality compared to the other characters, such as Gustavia. This made them not as fun to interact with as others. Another character I didn’t particularly like was Patricia Roland. Even before we descovered her to be the villain (which I TOTALLY CALLED), her manurisms and personality made me very uncomfortable, and I kinda dreaded interacting with her. Of course, these opinions of these characters are entirely my own, and if you like any of these characters, I think that’s awesome and respect your opinion.

In terms of gameplay, I think I liked the first Investigations slightly better. Some parts were drawn on a lot longer than I think they had to, and while the majority of the twists landed and were extremely effective, some were way too obvious or didn’t land at all, although that could be attributed to my own stupidity. However, I still enjoyed uncovering the truth just as much as any other AA game, and the new Logic Chess minigame was tons of fun (although it took me an embarrassingly long time to figure out that I was supposed to watch their facial expressions and decide based on them whether to wait or press). I kinda wish there was actually more of this minigame, but it didn’t detract in the least from the rest of the game.

Overall, amazing story, super fun gameplay, and both new and old lovable characters join together in the masterpiece that is Investigations 2. I’m sure I’m forgetting tons of things I want to discuss regarding this game, and I may add on to it later, but I just wanted to get my thoughts down while I’m still riding the high from completing it. Thanks for listening to my rambles, and if you wanna discuss this game, leave a comment or PM me! I’d love to talk about it!

#ace attorney #ace attorney investigations #ace attorney investigations 2 #spoilers #ace attorney investigations 2 spoilers #rant #miles edgeworth investigations #miles edgeworth investigations 2 #this game has taken over my life

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shadowdianne · 6 years ago

Note

SQ one word prompt : Hesitation

A/NSometimes, once in a blue moon, I actually write things like this xd

Thanks, W,for the prompt

Set in:Back to the end of S7, just after the coronation in a scene I’ve also writtenabout several times before but sir, this is my headcanon and I dare you to takeit away from my cold, dead fingers.

“I’lltruly always be the mayor for you?”

The question was said with just enough mirth atthe end, enough softness, that made Emma chuckle softly as she moved away fromthe balcony she had been leaning on, watching as the amalgam of cars andcarriers began to trickle out of the castle grounds. Their lights twinkled nowbetween the trees, with the looming shadows of other castles, other cities,glimmering in the distance and she eyed them slowly before she finally turnedto stare at the brunette woman that stood at her right, eyes warm, head tilted.

Crown already taken, dress changed forsomething closer to Storybrooke fashion, the woman certainly looked the part ofthe title Emma felt her tongue cling to, despite everything, and she answeredso with an almost wave of her right hand, fingers tingling before she let herarm fall once more to her side, tangling against the dress she –still- hadn’tmagicked away. Despite her need to.

“Madam mayor.” She replied with a slow smile,one she felt Regina’s eyes falling to for a second, slowly looking away with analmost blush dusting her cheeks in pink and red. “Not just mayor.”

She shrugged, letting the sentence hang betweenthem, the weight of it feeling more present than it should have been and Reginahummed as she approached the balcony, slow steps that barely made any noise. Placingher hands on the railing before she curved her fingers, she pressed the tipsagainst the stone, knuckles turning white. Emma stared, silent, as she felt thetelling scent of ozone fill her nostrils, purple and lilac tinting the airaround them both.

It felt strange, she thought, how easy they hadfallen into their banter, the kind of relationship they had never had before.But they had done it nevertheless, as if they both craved it. Needed it.Despite everything, despite the countless nights Emma could remember in whereshe had laid in bed, fingers grazing her stomach as her mind went over and overagain about the split second she had had, back at the Forest, back when Reginahad nodded; solemn, sad, tired.

And yet, even with that added complication, Reginahad only needed to look at her once and Emma had felt that old pull returningto her, grounding her into the soil, making her walk towards her, unable tostop herself.

She felt the same pull once more, with Reginaat her side and her brown eyes zeroing on the direction of what Emma knewStorybrooke rested; the patch of land that the merge had created hidden behindrows of lush green. Profile softly illuminated, skin glowing in something thatalmost felt like silver, Emma’s traced the lines she was able to map on thebrunette’s face, on how the brunette’s hair had a texture her fingers longed totouch, to grasp.

“It feels strange.” She heard the other womanwhisper and Emma pressed the tip of her tongue against the roof of her mouth,her heartbeat growing, pooling on her ears, warming her skin below her neck asshe swallowed down nerves that writhed and protested. “Being here again.”

Emma didn’t know what to answer to that, theconcept itself brittle and warped into the merge. She still understood thelonging coloring Regina’s words and so she sighed, softly, before she mimickedRegina’s position, a soft plum of purple smoke enveloping her in a flash; herclothes back to an ensemble she hadn’t considered herself ready to wear againever since Regina had left.

Probably even before that, but she didn’t wantto consider the implications that alone brought with it. She still foundherself liking the feeling of the fabric of the tank top against her skin, the weightof the faux leather almost sticking to her forearms.

“Really?” She asked, however, and Regina’ssmirk curved her lips just in time for Emma to catch the reflection from thecorner of her eyes, the warmth on her skin turning into a prickle as her magicanswered to the remnant of the older woman’s, the caress of the mauve soothingand light.

“It suits you.”

It wasn’t an answer, not exactly, but Emmadecided to take it in the same way Regina had taken her own a few secondsbefore. She didn’t have anything to protest to after all; she liked the way shefelt like traveling back in time to another past, the one they could have hadthis kind of moment; in where no magic, no saving, would have been necessaryfor them to become close.

Nibbling at her bottom lip she straightened herposture but kept her own hands on the railing, index and middle finger extended,painfully close to Regina’s elbow in a way she tried hard not to focus even ifshe could feel her heartbeat growing to the point of pain on her throat,blocking every intake of breath she tried to swallow.

“Emma?”

She hummed as an answer, her vocal foldsvibrating, hurting, as she rose her eyes to meet the brunette’s. Regina’s iriseswere half-hidden, eyelids dropping, chin raised, and Emma could feel the oldsurge of fear she had always fallen in step to. The one that would drag heraway, that would keep her frozen.

Hesitant.

The brunette’s lips curved, as if she knew shehad only seconds and Emma’s tongue burned, scorching, as she saw how the olderwoman moved forward, fingers closing around her wrist in a far too gentletouch, one Emma wanted to relish into, move her hand up, clasp Regina’s ownforearm, pull her close, closer.

“Thanks for coming.”

“Of course.”

It was croaked and breathy and far too fullwith the obviousness their sudden postures conveyed but Emma felt drunk withthe touch and when Regina didn’t move away she saw the glimmer of purpleshinning through her eyes; a silent dare, a silent question, that made her lickher lips and swallow, diaphragm protesting, shoulders tense.

“I wasn’t sure if you…” Regina’s accent, thattilt Emma had learnt to associate with her changed in a matter of seconds andher voice, deep, mirrored not the woman Emma had learnt to care for but theother personality she hadn’t been able to meet; the one she had heard about andblamed herself for not having been there for. Beads of sweat beginning to format the back of her neck, she rolled her shoulders and clenched her jaw;unwilling to let the terror she felt win this time. Not when she had theopportunity to mend things; to be who she should have been.

She had had a lot of time to think after all;trapped and believing she would not see the other woman ever again.

“I wouldn’t have missed it.” And she let out achuckle through clanking teeth; magic surging forward, warming her veins,making her blood boil.

Regina looked down at their hands and shefrowned minutely, fingers beginning to move, as if she had realized that it hadbeen an already too long contact for the two of them. Them, who never hugged,despite Emma’s need, despite Emma’s desire, to be brave enough to be open, tobe bold, to be brazen, like that.

She only needed that split second for her handsto move, her wrist twisting, palm up and blunt nails scratching against Regina’sskin as she surged forward, not letting the brunette go. She felt blind, darkspots appearing on her vision but when Regina eyed her, the tiniest of tugs asshe tested their new positions, she remained frozen, not willing to let her go.Not knowing how.

“Emma…” This time it came out as a warning andEmma shook her head, her free hand rising, cupping Regina’s cheek as she took afinal step, positioning herself so she was able to feel Regina’s breathingagainst her chest, close, painfully close.

“I’m filling the papers for the divorce.”

She hadn’t intended to say the words like that;a whisper that fell into Regina’s lips as she loomed closer, the chill from thenight forgotten, the whispers of the forest below a distant noise on her earsand she almost wanted to laugh at the sheer ludicrousness of it all. At thelack of everything, at the way her voice was far too thick and her reasons tooobvious for this to truly be a conversation anymore, an admission. They bothwere way beyond that. Had been, for a really long time.

And yet.

She shouldn’t, a voice told her, she shouldmove backwards, apologize, pretend.

She should move her hand away, she should notclose her eyes, she should not part her lips, she should not tread her fingersthrough Regina’s hair, pulling her closer and closer still. She should not tugat her locks in a silent question, one that came in the form of a whimper asRegina let out a gasp, one that worked as a confirmation. She should not.

She needed to.

She stopped, however, halting herself just as herlips grazed Regina’s, magic spiraling out of her.

“Can I…”

Brown eyes darkened further before sparkling andEmma felt her skin taut, her tongue far too big for her mouth, her stomach clenchingwhen the next words Regina said hold a need that made her want to kneel andswore a fealty she knew she had already given.

“Kiss me.”

#swan queen #SwanQueen #prompt #waknatious

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mxdanni · 6 years ago

Text

Choices & Consequences. p2

Author’s note: guess what I brought! Cuteness overload

Part 1

Ethan rolled over and looked right at her. His dark blue eyes boring into her face.

They froze like that for a few moments. Perhaps, even longer.

“You…” he quirked his eyebrow and leaned closer, “offering?”

“Erm.” Lin glanced at her own hand, still clutching his forearm. But Ethan leaned even further, his body slowly slipping down from the coach, so she jumped to her feet and shoved him back up. “Wait, wait, wait, you are drunk. You can get hurt like that.”

‘And you are already hurt enough,’ Lin added to herself.

He mumbled something and snuggled back into the pillow. Lin couldn’t help her eyes tracing his figure. Overall, he seemed mostly fine and yet… Dishevelled, the usual stubble a longer mess, dark circles under his eyes. But overall?

“Well, I guess what was I expecting?”Lin whispered to herself. Hardly louder than a breath. She looked around the room to find everything in perfect order. Like the day she was here the last time. “He’s Ethan Ramsey,” a corner of her lips lifted up in a half-smile, “it’s not like he’ll be drinking himself to death over… that. The whole thing, huh.”

She felt Jenner butt his head into her leg.

“What’s it, boy?” Jenner whined and pulled on Lin’s jeans. “Follow you? Ok.”

Ethan muttered something in his sleep when she finally let go of his arm. Lin was surprised with herself she couldn’t let go that easily, still keeping that light touch on his bare forearm. Hot skin against her warm palm.

Jenner tugged on her jeans again and wiggled his tail.

“Coming,” Lin sighed and followed Jenner into, supposedly, kitchen.

Jenner scratched a wooden cupboard door.

“Woof.”

So Lin shrugged her shoulders and then opened it.

“Or I might want to correct that.”

Inside she found more empty scotch bottles. Neatly piled up, she had to give Ethan that.

Lin jumped when she felt arms snake around her wait.

“Ethan!”

He didn’t answer. She felt him flinch as he nestled his face into her back and leaned on her as if he was about to crumble to the floor. Which probably was the case.

“Wo-a, how did you get up?” Lin tried to turn around but he tightened his grip. She could only cover his hands around her waist with hers. Maybe give a light, reassuring squeeze.

“I’m fine. Sorry to have bothered, there’s no need for you to be here,” he mumbled. She felt him muffle a heavy sigh into her back. “You, surely, have other things to do rather than hang around with…”

And with that, she lost it.

“Oh, yes, there is!” Lin grasped his hands and yanked.

“Rookie–“ His fingers dug deeper into her skin.

“Ethan.” She interrupted sternly. Then unhooked his fingers one by one.

“It’s my dream,” Ethan noticed as a matter of fact. “You do what I want you to.”

“Dream, huh?” Lin smiled weakly, grasped his wrists and turned around to face him. “Oh, really, Dr Ramsey?”

He blinked.

“Then, what you want or what you think you want?”

She stepped to him, his ragged breath burning into the skin of her temple. The alcohol reek unmistakable now.

“I don’t want to be a bother.” He shook his head but still leaned into her touch. Sighed again and slumped to her shoulder, Lin hugged him closer to keep both of them from tumbling. “Most of all to you.”

“Wooof?” Jenner tilted his head but otherwise didn’t move from his spot nearby. Lin smiled and squeezed her arm in between their bodies until her fingers fond Ethan’s hair.

“You wanted a pat on the head, right? And I’m here because I care about you. A lot. Nothing you can say changes that.”

“I…”

“Sh-h. I’m your dream, right?”

It was a sudden idea. Her lips ghosted his cheek and up his temple as Lin continued to stroke his hair. Step by step, she backed Ethan out from the kitchen and into the living room. Their lips almost touched, Ethan tilted his head a little but she turned slightly more left and his lips only grazed the corner of her. Then Lin led him towards the bathroom and one more step… Ethan followed her every move. Well, Lin did hate to break his trust but–

She pushed.

“Wha-“

Gripped the front of his shirt, still, so that he would hit his head when he tumbled into the bathtub but let go soon enough. To turn on the cold water.

“Now you are no longer my boss,” she shouted over the running water, took the shower hose and aimed it over his head, “don’t think you can turn me down with your ‘wrong’ excuse.”

He looked annoyed, more so confused, his wet clothes sticking to his chest and… utterly irresistible. Lin smirked and quickly leaned in. Just a perk on the lips, she planned nothing more.

“I’m staying.” She breathed as she was about to step back.

Lin hardly had time to notice some idea pass his eyes.

And then Ethan yanked her wrist and pulled her into the bathtub. She landed on top of him, her cheek pressed to his chest as strong arms snaked around her frame the same second.

“Now, that’s not a very good boy, Ethan.”

He huffed a laugh and leaned down to kiss her. His hot touch seemingly everywhere around her, gentle lips on hers and the cold water still running down her back.

“Woof! Woof, woof,” barked Jenner and jumped in as well.

There was hardly place so the dog wriggled behind Ethan and then poked his head over Ethan’s shoulder. Neither broke the kiss.

And Jenner licked Lin’s ear. She couldn’t help herself. Her lips still tingling from the heating kiss, Lin leaned back and burst out laughing. She felt Ethan laugh too, much weaker but she could feel it. Still lying sprayed on top of his chest.

“And you are a good boy, Jenner.”

She patted him on the head before turning back to Ethan. There was something in his eyes she couldn’t place. Dulled pain, longing and… Hope? The look he gave her that day when she tried to block his way from leaving was still haunting Lin. That tiny streak of hope was definitely not there that day. Lin kissed him again, feeling his hands trace her back lower.

“Oh, and Dr Ramsey?” Lin tilted her head just enough for their lips not to touch. A mere breath away. She teased him, that was obvious even without the crooked smile. “I love you.”

and i found this funny gif

tag list: @perriewinklenerdie @timmagicktoad @lilyofchoices @itspeonypie @confessionsofabrokegirl @ethanplaysfavorites @thatcrimsonartist@hopelessromantic1352 @omg-its-vixen @nxstalgicnxbxdy @abbyarchie@ninuca30 @valiantlychaoticbarbarian @sharrybh20 @foulponypizzabear@lorosette@redt1ger @ knndyj @wenddeg @minion-on-board @queenof1000days @momentarilyhere @msjpuddleduck @bieberismysoulmate @octobereighth @gettingonmykneesfordamiennazario @topsyturvy-dream @alj4890 @emceesynonymroll @classychoicesaworld @redt1ger @countrymusicandncis-blog @tmnts-world @flyawayboo @give-me-ernest-sinclaire @regina-and-happiness @lammaducks @drink-of-paradise @jacobsmemesibling @sophia-snw @cordoniaqueensworld @timmagicktoad @usuallyamazinglyaverage @istanallli @classylady1234 @eastcoast-anchor @simsvetements @wan-wan-kenobi @fangirling12566 @strangepeanutstudentcop @raines-harrington-ramsey-hunt @laylaylom313 @goldenjellyfish12

#open heart #ethan x mc #dr ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey #mc x ethan #choices #choices open heart #pixelberry #choices the stories you play #open heart fanfiction #open heart fanfic #choices oh #choices fanfiction #choices fanfic #ethan ramsey fic

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welllpthisishappening · 6 years ago

Text

The Period of the Long Change (9/15)

It’s quick. One second she’s standing there and everything is fine and then Emma looks up and it’s not. It’s awful. And the lights are too bright and there are too many rooms and too many opinions and her phone won’t stop ringing because everything seems to be changing all at once. She’s never been great at coping with change. But, maybe, if she can just figure it out and stay right where she is, with Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers, at her side, it’ll be alright.

It’s slow. One second he’s standing there and everything is fine and then Killian’s breath catches and it’s not. It’s terrifying. And the noises are too loud and there are too many questions and he can’t find the right answers to any of them, not sure how to cope with everything changing all at once. That’s never really been his forte. But, maybe, if he can just figure it out and stay right where he is, with Emma Swan, director of New York Rangers community relations, at his side, it’ll be alright.

It’s another season and another challenge and Emma and Killian are both struggling to get over the boards.

Rating: Mature Word Count: Honestly every chapter here is like 8K and change. AN: Is it a fic I wrote if my characters aren’t, at some point, eating Shake Shack? Probably not. Thanks for sticking with this one still, guys. It’s the best. You’re the best. Here’s some public displays of true love for your efforts.

Also on Ao3 and FF.net and Tumblr if that’s your jam.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls again.” Emma tried not to sigh, she did, but the noise seemed to fall out of her and Merida winced from the doorway. “That’s not true, Tink,” she mumbled. It was an awful lie. The words felt like they were rotting her tongue or something far less disgusting.

God, that was an awful thought.

That had kind of been the trend for the last seventy-two hours though and Emma was, totally, ignoring the four messages Tink had left Merida in those same seventy-two hours and that just seemed like a kind of aggressive sell.

She was supposed to have until the end of the month.

She didn’t have to worry about this yet.

Not when she had so much else to worry about.

Maybe she shouldn’t have let Killian watch Peggy before his presser that afternoon. His ribs were still kind of bruised when she’d changed the ACE bandage that morning and Ariel’s expression had been nothing short of incredulous when Emma asked, demanded, to learn how to do it.

She figured it wasn’t much more than twisting and turning, but those twists and turns were unexpectedly difficult and that was kind of a trend too.

Emma wished her goddamn mind would shut up.

And she knew Killian wanted to watch Peggy for the same reasons Emma had taken Peggy out of daycare that one day and she couldn’t really argue when he started making faces at her, letting her fingers grip his and tug on the front of his shirt and he was supposed to bring her to the Garden before the presser anyway.

It was fine.

It was all fine.

It was...hopefully fine.

The rest of the season and maybe more.

Emma couldn’t breathe.

“Boss,” Merida muttered, nodding towards the phone Emma was still, somehow, holding and Tink was still, somehow, talking. Emma wasn’t entirely sure how she was still standing. Her whole body felt heavy and exhausted and Aurora had apologized for the banner incident, but she had no fewer than eight-thousand questions about Phillip’s ceremony the next night and it really was not that complex.

It shouldn’t have been that complex.

Emma needed to sit in a dark room with absolutely no noise and no hockey and no errant thoughts for the rest of the afternoon.

She didn’t have time.

Tink was still babbling in her ear.

“You might want to at least acknowledge that you’re still on the phone,” Merida suggested, taking a step into the office and there was no longer enough room for two people. “Here,” she added, dropping a plastic container on the few inches of desk left and Emma couldn’t quite believe she flinched at, what she assumed, was a salad from Prep.

“What is this?” she asked softly, doing her best not to talk into the phone. Tink wasn’t babbling anymore. She was rambling. Loudly.

Emma was supposed to have until the end of the month.

Fine fine fine fine fine.

“It’s food, boss,” Merida grinned. She shook her hair off her shoulders, the bags under her eyes visible and they just had to get through the rest of the week. Phillip’s ceremony would last fifteen minutes, tops, he and Aurora would stand on the ice and they still needed to get his dad a jersey, but he wasn’t getting into the city until later that night and there was, apparently, some kind of ridiculous snow storm in Québec City so that was another thing. There was a list for all of it somewhere.

Probably under the salad.

“Did we ever find out if Rook’s mom was coming to this?” Emma whispered, and Tink hadn’t taken a breath in years. That couldn’t have been healthy.

Merida shook her head. “Aurora said she was trying to get in touch, but it keeps going to voicemail.” “And we’ve got no other way to contact this woman? Where does she even live?” “Phillip said Montréal. Maybe.” “Maybe?”

Merida’s eyes widened in warning when Emma’s voice hitched and Tink stopped talking rather abruptly. Emma winced. “Am I interrupting you, Emma?” Tink asked, and Emma bit back her immediate yes, constantly because she hadn’t been lying before.

She kind of wanted this job.

Or thought she could want this job. Or, at least, consider the possibility of this job.

But then she thought about the travel and what might happen if – when – Killian came back next season and she’d waited so long for all of this, was so goddamn happy when things weren’t so goddamn stressful and even, sometimes, when they were and Merida kept trying to force feed her slightly shitty salads that weren’t as good when she wasn’t pregnant.

And Emma knew it was because Killian kept texting her to remind her.

She didn’t really want to go to the presser later. She didn’t want to cry in public like that. That would have been embarrassing.

“Emma,” Tink said lightly, but there was an edge there that made it almost too obvious that the end of the month wasn’t quite as honest as it probably should have been.

“I’m here,” Emma promised, rolling her eyes when Merida snickered under her breath. “And I haven’t really been ignoring your calls. I’ve just been incredibly busy.” “Dealing with injuries?” Emma inhaled, teeth digging into her lower lip. Merida’s eyes looked like they were going to fall out of her head. “No,” Emma said. “And, quite frankly, that’s not any of your business.” Merida’s face was going to get stuck like that.

Emma waved an impatient hand through the air, nearly knocking over the half-finished travel mug of coffee she’d brought with her that morning. Merida didn’t move. Her mouth didn’t close either, just kept hanging open with a look that was stuck somewhere between stunned and impressed and they needed to track down Phillip’s mother.

She couldn’t just show on the ice the next night.

That’d ruin the entire ceremony and Aurora would never let Emma hear the end of it.

“Professional,” Merida mumbled, perching on the edge of Emma’s desk and her hair nearly brushed over the travel mug.

Emma really needed to move that.

She shrugged, twisting her lips and trying not to laugh like an absolutely crazy person because she was almost entirely convinced that’s what she was at this point and she was more or less waiting for Zelena to arrive at any moment and demand another meeting.

“Phillip really doesn’t know where his mom is?” Emma asked softly, leaning away from the phone like that would make sure her voice didn’t carry. Merida shook her head. “How is that possible? Where is he even?” “I think Ruby has him answering questions for several different features so we can try and distract from--” She cut herself off, the muscles in her throat moving when she swallowed down the words and Emma’s heart promptly fell out of her body, landed on her covered-with-paperwork rug and immediate shattered into several thousand pieces.

At least.

She wished she’d brought Peggy with her to work.

She wished Killian had brought Peggy to work. And talked to her. Preferably before he beat up some AHL asshole who didn’t even get suspended.

“He got fined,” Merida said, like that made a difference and Emma wasn’t aware that Killian was going to get fined too. Or maybe already had. She hadn’t really talked to Regina. She was too busy tracking down Phillip’s relatives.

Emma didn’t make a noise, just kept twisting her lips and nodding until she almost fell into a rhythm. Merida’s expression shifted, a little softer and a bit more understanding and she’d probably fly to Montréal to find Phillip’s mom sooner rather than later.

Maybe after she made sure Emma ate the salad from Pret.

“Actually,” Tink said archly, and Emma had almost forgotten she was still on the phone. She was becoming a professional in ignoring. That probably wasn’t a talent she could put on her résumé. The league wouldn’t appreciate that. “That’s something that’s exactly my business.” Emma’s eyes flashed to Merida, a wry smile on her face as she pushed a plastic fork towards her. “How do you figure?”

“If he wasn’t hurt he’d likely have been suspended for several games, you know that, right?” “Obviously.” “And the fine will be fairly sizable. We can’t afford to have a name like that attacking teammates.” “Ok, you know that’s not even remotely what it was.” “Was it not?” Tink countered. “From all accounts, Husinger simply expressed his opinion in the newspaper.” “He said he was glad that Killian got hurt,” Emma yelled, and there went the travel mug. She gritted her teeth, jumping up and squeezing her eyes shut as Merida mumbled promises that it would be fine, but those very specific words had lost all meaning in the last few weeks and Emma was worried she was going to snap her phone in half.

Or do permanent damage to her hand.

“That’s not what he said, Emma, and you know it,” Tink said. Her voice had leveled out again, a picture of professionalism from Toronto and maybe she knew where Phillip’s mom was and if she was planning on coming to the Garden on Wednesday night and if she had a jersey or not.

They all had to wear jerseys.

Zelena had been adamant about that.

“I really don’t care,” Emma muttered. She knew it was petty. She knew it was immature. She knew it was goddamn unprofessional and she wanted this job, but she couldn’t get those few sentences out of her brain or her mind and she really did not want to go to this presser.

Merida smiled at her, ducking into her eye line because she’d never sat back down, but she wasn’t really staying still either. Matt probably got that from her.

“I’ll ask Phillip about his mom again,” Merida promised. “And talk to Aurora.” Emma shook her head, but she’d seen that look before and she was fighting a very noble and losing battle. “You don’t have to do that,” she mumbled, ignoring Tink’s return to babble.

They hadn’t cleaned up the coffee yet.

It was staining the carpet. And several stacks of papers.

“Aurora definitely knows,” Merida shrugged. “She’s just been worried about the ice--”

“--The ice?” “She doesn’t really have good balance. I guess she’s worried about falling over and ruining the ceremony or something.” “She realizes that there’ll be carpet, right? She doesn’t actually have to step on the ice?” “I really don’t think she knows that, no. And if she does, then I don’t think she cares. But she’s mentioned it, like, sixteen times and sent an e-mail about it.” “Did I get that?”

Merida flushed, making it difficult to see where her hair stopped and her face started and Emma’s laugh bubbled out of her. Tink sighed in her ear. “I will answer you in a second, Tink, honestly,” Emma said, but the guarantee was still a bit of a lie and she needed to ask Ruby for links to those stories about Phillip. They could send them to season tickets.

That’d be another good distraction.

For her and the season tickets.

“Mer,” Emma said, dragging out the name until it felt a bit like an accusation. The flush get deeper. Redder. She wasn’t going to be specific about the adjectives. “Are you filtering my e-mails? Is that what’s going on?” “Not in, like, a menacing way,” Merida muttered.

“Is there a menacing way to do that?” “I mean, probably.” “So how are you doing it then?” “In a way that I know you’re stressed and ignoring…” She nodded towards the phone, and, that time, it was Emma’s turn to flush. She chewed on her lip. “That,” Merida continued. “And everything that’s been going on with Cap and Phillip’s disappearing mother and how insanely annoying Aurora’s been about all of this and, well, it might be a great job, but…” “But?” Emma pressed. She put the phone down on her desk, ignoring the way Merida’s eyebrows jumped.

It took a moment for Merida to answer, but once the words started they never seemed to stop and Emma wondered how long she’d been holding it all in.

Probably two weeks and three days.

Emma was a little worried about the state of her heart. It might have still been sitting on the floor.

“But,” Merida repeated. “This is your team as much as it is Cap’s and I know how much this whole thing has messed with your head and you’ve been working your ass off for Casino Night and some ridiculous points ceremony that Phillip doesn’t even want because the spotlight freaks him out and he only agreed to all those features so it’d distract from everything else and probably because Rubes threatened him.” “She didn’t have to do that.” “Aw, c’mon, boss, don’t be that dense. Of course she did. This whole roster would do it. In a heartbeat or an instant or whatever the shortest measure of time is.” “Instant probably works.” “Then that,” Merida smiled. “And I know it’s the whole league and you’d still be in New York, but…” She sighed, huffing out air that felt especially thick and Emma was crying in public again. Kind of. She wasn’t sure what her office counted as. “It’s your team too, boss,” she repeated.

Emma’s heart thumped painfully in her chest.

She wasn’t sure when it got back there, but the specifics weren’t important and she picked up the phone. She could almost hear Tink’s frustration.

Which, honestly, was pretty impressive since she’d never seen Tink in person.

“I don’t have an answer for you right now, Tink,” Emma said, trying to keep the professional in her voice. Merida nodded encouragingly. “You told me that I had until the end of the month and you’re right. There’s some stuff going on here that I didn’t entirely expect and am dealing with, so if you’ve given me a deadline then I think it’s only fair you stick to that.”

Tink hummed, displeasure obvious in the sound and that was only kind of obnoxious. Emma’s head jerked up when she heard footsteps moving towards her office, willing it not be Zelena or, God help her, Aurora.

Unless she knew where Phillip’s goddamn mother was.

It wasn’t either of them.

And she didn’t expect to see David standing in her open doorway, two bags of food in his hands and the fluorescent light of the hallway glinting off the badge on his hip.

Merida practically beamed.

“What are you doing here?” Emma asked. Tink might have growled at her.

He shrugged and grinned, taking a cautious step into the room and she was immediately hit with the distinct smell of grease and processed cheese and he was playing dirty. “Was in the neighborhood,” David said. “How do you move in here without killing yourself?” “It’s a very specific type of dance.” “Let the record show I’m not going to make a comment on that because I know you’re absurdly stressed out. And also not eating. So I’m going to go ahead and believe that’s the reason for whatever your face is doing.”

“My face is fine.” “You should probably tell that to your face.”

Merida laughed again, pulling her lips behind her teeth to stop herself and Emma rolled her eyes. She wasn’t done with Tink.

“Still there?” she asked.

“The whole time,” Tink hissed.

Emma took a deep breath through her teeth, pulling in the air slowly like she was worried anything more would do damage to her lungs. “Of course,” she said. “You gave me the end of the month to think about it. I’ve still got a job to do here with this team, you have to understand that, don’t you?” “Of course.” “Then I think it’s only fair we stick to the deadline. I don’t think you want me making this choice without actually thinking about it, do you?” “Oh that was good,” David mumbled, finding a spot on the floor and sitting cross-legged as he pulled out far too many wax-paper-covered cheeseburgers and what appeared to be three milkshakes. “I couldn’t not get one for Mer,” he explained. “God, who do you think I am, Em?”

Emma nodded, smile tugging at the ends of her mouth and some her anger disappearing and Tink had said something.

“Of course I don’t,” Tink responded, answering a question Emma almost forgot she’d asked. “I want you to want this job, Emma. The league wants you to want this job. But if we’re second on your list, then, frankly, that won’t be good enough.” “That’s not what I said.” “Then it won’t be hard to tell me which way you’re leaning. There are other names and other people who’d check each other to get this position.” “Did you just make a hockey joke out of this?” “Occupational hazard.” Emma scoffed. She was never going to eat that salad from Pret. Merida wouldn’t mind. It looked like they’d put avocado on it anyway. “Of course,” Emma said. “Listen. I have no idea. And I don’t know that I’ll have an idea before the end of the month. Or, at least, until after I get through today and tomorrow and Casino Night. I’ve got a team to worry about still, Tink, and it’s...well, it’s my team and my home and I’m not going to stop that. Even with an incredible job opportunity. So either you can accept my indecisiveness right now or you can keep getting your calls ignored because my assistant is trying to preserve my mental stability.”

It was supposed to be a joke, so she appreciated the laugh she got from Toronto, but Emma’s chest still felt tight and her heart wasn’t beating regularly and she hoped David didn’t want any of those cheese fries because she was going to eat all of them.

Shake Shack cheese fries almost made her care less about onion rings.

They were probably magical.

Or incredibly fried.

“I suppose that’s fair,” Tink said. “I’d rather not be at fault for ruining your mental stability.” “A fact I really do appreciate.”

“It’s got to be the end of the month, Emma. They want to make a move. They want you, but they won’t wait.” “I’ll be honest and tell you that this eponymous they is kind of freaking me out.” “Yeah, well, welcome to the league offices, I suppose.”

“Are they always this menacing?” “Constantly,” Tink admitted. “I hope your husband’s press conference goes well today. I know New York media can be ruthless.” Emma nodded, leaning forward to grab a fry when David offered her the container and he grinned at whatever face she made. “We’re kind of used to that now, actually,” she muttered. “Face of the team or something.” “Face of the league, actually. You might want to remind him of that before he starts punching AHL kids with absurd egos at practice again.” “Noted.” “The end of the month, Emma.”

Tink hung up before she could answer – a habit that was only slightly annoying and Emma had to try and make sure she didn’t get processed cheese under her nails. David was still sitting on her floor. “Mer, I’m probably not going to eat this salad,” Emma admitted, working another laugh out of her and a bigger smile out of David and he’d totally blown off his lunch hour.

“Yeah, I kind of figured that,” Merida muttered, grabbing the plastic container and dumping it unceremoniously in the garbage. “They totally fucked up the avocados anyway.” “How do they keep doing that?” “Pret is the worst.” “A very quick judgment,” David mumbled through a bite of cheeseburger. Emma gaped at him.

“You couldn’t wait two seconds?” “You were on the phone and glaring at open air and I’m starving. I’m here to feed you and also check on your mental stability or whatever you told whoever you were talking to, but I’m not going to miss out on Shake Shack either.” “Did you actually go to Shake Shack?” “Was that not obvious?” “The one on 42nd?” David shook his head. “The one on Broadway. God, Emma, be more aware of your closest Shake Shack.” “I’ve had some other things on my mind, you know. I just yelled at a very important league worker about those things.” “Eh,” Merida countered. “It wasn’t really yelling. It was, like, a very specific type of discussion. Forceful, sure. But certainly not yelling. Your voice didn’t get any louder.” “That’s true,” David agreed. “Totally monotone.” “Is that a good thing?” Emma asked.

“Probably not. Why do you think I brought the Shake Shack?” “There’s really a Shake Shack on Broadway” “For, like, at least a year,” David said, amusement flashing in his eyes and Emma didn’t know if she appreciated that or not. She ate more french fries.

“No way, really?" David nodded, wide-eyed and smiling. Merida laughed behind her hand. “There’s no reason to be rude about it. I don’t really go that far east.” “It’s a block away, Em.” She groaned, an objection without voicing it and he must have rearranged his lunch hour. “You just going to stay up there or you going to come hang out on the floor where, clearly, the cooler people are?”

“It’s just you down there.” “I don’t think I need to repeat myself.”

“You’re far too certain of your own coolness,” Emma muttered, but she pushed out of her chair and moved several piles of papers, resting her chin on her tugged-up knees. David did something ridiculous with his eyebrows, a pretty God awful attempt to imitate Killian that he didn’t even try to mask.

“See if I tell you about the cookies Mary Margaret made that are possibly in the bag behind you.” “Possibly? And I think you just did.” “It’s all part of my interrogation technique. Lull you into a false sense of security.” “And then do what, exactly?” “Make sure you’re ok,” David said easily, but there was a note of sincerity in his voice that made Emma blink a few times and Merida was suspiciously quiet. She’d cleaned up the coffee without Emma noticing.

And probably took her phone.

She hoped she took her phone.

“I’ll tell Rubes to find you later, boss,” Merida announced, grabbing the travel mug like she was going to go wash it or something equally absurd. That was absolutely what she was going to do. Emma tried not to cry on her office floor.

It didn’t really work.

“I can do that,” she argued, but Merida was already shaking her head and David was trying to force a cheeseburger into Emma’s hand. “God, how many of these did you order?” “Too many, honestly,” he admitted. “I think the lady behind the counter thought I was nuts when I went to pick them up.” “You ordered ahead at Shake Shack? Can you do that or did you badge-flash?” “First of all, it’s weird that you used that as a verb. And second of all, obviously or this wouldn’t have been possible. I really don’t have time to stand in line all day.” “But you’ve got time for whatever this is?”

“A quest, Em, obviously.” “Oh, obviously,” she grumbled, Merida trying to walk out the door without anyone noticing. “Hey,” Emma called. “You really don’t have to find Rubes later. I can do it. But maybe we can track down Phillip’s parents and tell Aurora not to worry about falling over? Or get her to practice after the walk-through finishes today.” “There’s no walk-through,” Merida said quickly, breath catching when she realized what she said. Emma blinked.

“What? Why not? We are playing a game tomorrow, right?” “It’d make that ceremony really difficult otherwise.” “So why no walk-through? Arthur couldn’t have been happy about that.” Merida wavered, rocking back and forth slightly and she kind of looked like Peggy working to keep her balance. She hadn’t weebled in days. Emma hoped that wasn’t a sign. And knew that wasn’t a verb.

“Mer,” David cautioned, but he snapped his mouth shut when Emma turned on him. He was still holding a goddamn cheeseburger. “Don’t try and turn me to stone, Em, you’re not as good as Regina is at that.” “Yeah, well, I’m not entirely sure Regina isn’t magical, so that doesn’t count at all.”

Merida froze, meeting Emma’s gaze when she jerked back around and lifted her eyebrows, not bothering to ask the question. “I don’t think you’re the only one getting quest’ed, boss,” she whispered. “Although David’s kind of more impressive, since he’s working on his own.” “Mary Margaret’s still in school,” David reasoned.

“And Ruby mentioned she’d try and get here before the presser, but she thinks Cap is going to be late, so…” “Why would Killian be late?” Emma asked sharply.

“Was that not obvious? I thought you’d get there without needing more context clues.” Emma rolled her eyes. “I don’t, really. But I just...God, you guys are all stupid, you know that? Without any concept of proper relationship lines.”

She wished she’d gotten more venom in her insult, but it wasn’t really an insult and both David and Merida knew it. And Mary Margaret couldn't leave school early again.

Emma would have been legitimately pissed off about that.

“Yeah, well, none of us really got that memo,” David muttered. “And we’re all trying real hard to be the most worried. We’re pretty sure we’ll get a medal or something.” “We’ve done the medal thing already.” “That was funny!” “Not lost all my humor quite yet,” Emma said. David sighed. “Did you guys bet on it? Whatever the plan was?” “Quest, Em. We did this. It’s a quest and it’s meaningful.” “Didn’t answer my question, Sergeant.” David opened his mouth, only to close it just as quickly and Emma grinned like she’d won something. “You don’t know that yet. And don’t tell Mary Margaret, I think she’s trying to get me to agree to some party at the restaurant when the test results come in.” “Then that ship has sailed already. If she’s trying to get you to agree, then she’s in the late stages of planning. You just have to show up.” “I have to pass the exam.” “You already did,” Emma guaranteed, and David stared at the half-finished burger in his left hand. “So stop being stupid about it.” “Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled. “Don't forget your milkshake, Mer,” he added. “I got whatever the special shake was from this location.”

“Pie oh My,” Merida grinned. “There’s like...actual blueberries in there.” Emma didn’t know who to look at. Or gape at. She’d eaten far too many French fries already. “Wait, did you know that there was a Shake Shack on Broadway? What the hell have we been doing for the last six years?” “It hasn’t been there for six years, boss. And, mostly, Cap keeps harping on the salad thing, so it’s really his fault.” Merida grabbed the shake from David, smile still bright and shoulders as not tense as Emma had seen them in weeks. “Have fun intervening, David. I’ll find you when I know where Phillip’s mom is, boss.” Merida was gone in a flash of red hair and loose shoulders and Emma’s shake was chocolate. She’d definitely taken her phone.

Emma turned back towards David slowly, lips pressed together and he met her with a far too knowing grin. “I’m still not using the word intervention,” he promised. “It’s really a quest for your happiness.” “That kind of sounds worse. I’m not unhappy.” “But worried.” “Yeah,” Emma admitted, appreciating his quick blink when she agreed so quickly. “Weren’t expecting that, were you?” “Not really, no.” “Keeping you on your toes.” She, finally, grabbed one of the cheeseburgers in the bag and there were chicken sandwiches in there as well. That did something absurd to her heart, a fact that could not be healthy since her heart had been going through several different and rather aggressive wringers in the last few weeks.

“I’d rather we stay still for a few minutes, honestly,” David muttered. “The whole point of this was to try and calm you down.” “I don’t need to be calmed down.” “Yeah? You get your blood pressure checked, recently? What’s the deal with Phillip’s mom?” “If I tell you that she’s disappeared you’re going to think I’m insane.”

David shook his head, a contradictory sound in the back of his throat. “Nah, not insane. Clearly exhausted, but not insane.” “God, you have so many opinions. It’s rude.” “Do you not actually want this job?” Emma dropped her cheeseburger on her knee. She hoped she didn’t burn her leg. “What?” she snapped. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what those words mean in that very specific order, Emma.” “Ok, do not dad me,” she growled. David didn’t blink. He didn’t smile either, but he didn’t blink, just kept staring at her like he was waiting for that very specific reaction.

And Emma knew he was.

She groaned, rolling her head between her shoulders until it almost felt loose and she needed to get downstairs. She didn’t want to go downstairs.

She was the world’s biggest coward.

“I’m not dad’ing you,” David sighed, sounding like those words in that specific order pained him. Emma glared. “I’m friend’ing you. God, can we stop whatever this is? I hate it.” “Did you take your whole lunch off for this?” “Nah, I took several hours off for this on the chance that you did want to avoid Killian’s presser as much as I know you do.” “That’s presumptuous.” “We’ll circle back around to the friendship thing in a second. Now, c’mon, I’m serious about this job. Do you not actually want to do it? Is that why you’ve been avoiding it?” “You shouldn’t even know this job exists,” Emma challenged, and David had the good sense to look almost ashamed.

“And you should know that Mary Margaret is very bad at keeping secrets. Particularly when they concern that pesky mental well-being of yours. You’re also doing a pretty God awful job of trying to deflect around this. We can get Rubes up here to rehash media training if that’d help.” “I’m not the one with a season-ending presser in fifteen minutes.” “No, you’re the one avoiding it. And the job offer.”

Emma’s whole body sagged with the force of her sigh, but David had always been good at precisely this thing and listening to her and resolutely refusing to let her ignore anything. Even if, sometimes, his timing was a little terrible.

She’d eaten all the French fries.

That couldn’t have been healthy.

“That’s not what it is, really,” Emma muttered. “The avoiding the questions or the job offer. I...I told Killian I might want it, but it’s not that simple.” “Why not?” “You have eighty-two days off to spare so I can go down the list?” “Not really.” “Yeah, I figured,” Emma chuckled. She exhaled, a burst of feeling she wished would just leave her alone at this point. “It’s not that simple,” she repeated. “We’ve got kids and his head and I mean...it’s my team too, isn’t it?”

David nodded. “Of course it is. You tell him that?” “When have I had time?” “That’s a garbage answer, Emma and you know it. What are you so scared of?”

She blinked, head tilted and anger rushing through her quick enough it nearly stole all the oxygen in the room. David still didn’t move, staring straight at her with an expectant look on his face and they’d known each other far too long.

That felt like cheating.

“Is everything an acceptable answer?” Emma asked softly, regretting the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.

David moved.

And the plans for the silent auction were sacrificed to the cause, toppled over in a mess Emma was only slightly concerned about, but that disappeared as soon as David’s arms wrapped around her and she started crying into his shoulder again.

“You know, between me and Mattie, I’m not sure who’s doing more damage to your clothing,” Emma mumbled, mouth brushing against his precinct-required button-up. “God, you’re going to have to go home and change.” “Nah, it’ll be fine. I’ve got hours, Em. I planned for this.” “Another crying jag?” “Two in the last few days isn’t really that bad of a proportion.” “Is that the right word?” “I honestly have no idea. Math was never my strong suit.”

She let out a watery laugh, sniffling and not objecting when David brushed the tears off her cheeks. “Change is not really my thing,” Emma admitted, working a slightly strangled noise out of David. “And I know...God, I hope this isn’t it. It shouldn’t be. Not like this. Not on our own terms. That’s not fair.” “It’s not,” David agreed. “But the world doesn’t always agree with that.” “Yeah, well, the world can suck it.”

He nearly cackled, head thrown back and eyes closed lightly and Emma leaned into the kiss when he brushed it over her hair. “That’s the Emma Swan attitude I’ve been waiting for,” David mumbled. “You’ve got to fight back, Em.” “We tried that already and it ended in a very large fine that even Regina wouldn’t go into detail about because she’s scared of my reaction.” “If you’ve got Regina worried about your reaction, then you’ve clearly reached another plane of emotions. That’s almost impressive, if not a little terrifying.” Emma leaned against him, smiling into fabric and he’d never taken his shoulder holster off. He’d probably terrified the security guard downstairs. “I’m not sure if that was a compliment.” “Totally was,” David said. “And Killian wasn’t fighting back for just himself. Also you used we without thinking about it.” “The opinions never cease, do they?”

David shrugged, taking an over exaggerated bite of cheeseburger and it shouldn’t have been as endearing as it was. “He shouldn’t have done it. Obviously. But I kind of get why he did and I get why you’re mad. The whole thing sucks and makes sense and, for what it’s worth, I don’t think you should take the job.” “No?” “No.” “Why not?” Emma pressed, voice turning a little desperate. That was disappointing. David handed her another container of French fries.

“You’ve got to figure that out, Emma. My opinions are only that. It’s your life and your choice and your team.” “That was heavy handed.” “I’m not as good at the hope speeches as Mary Margaret is.”

Emma laughed, but she was still, inexplicably, smiling and eating French fries and it wasn’t the worst intervention. As those things went. “That’s not true,” she disagreed. “Your promotion party is going to be ridiculous. Reese’s will probably get Eric to make sixteen entrées.” “That’s excessive.” “A dozen appetizers, David. A dozen!”

He hummed, memories almost visibly flitting over his eyes. “Ah, but you changed all of that didn’t you? Made a choice and picked something that was yours in your own kind of way?” “Shit, David, that wasn’t even trying.” “Worked though, didn’t it? Sometimes heavy-handed is your only option. And you’re kind of ridiculously stubborn.” Emma clicked her tongue, but there was no point in arguing when David so clearly knew he was right. “If I tell you that it did are you ever going to let me forget it?” “Not for the rest of your life,” he said immediately, and she needed to stop crying. David smiled. “Although, if Killian does something stupid like that again, I’ll absolutely arrest him.” “Noted.” “C’mon, get your laptop and we’ll watch the presser on the live stream.”

Emma ate the rest of her cheeseburger before the presser started, Ruby standing at a podium with a pinch between her eyebrows like she was already asking the New York media contingent to ask something stupid.

Killian was standing slightly to the side, tie and shirt and pants that were also kind of unfair, but probably only to Emma and his fingers kept fiddling with his ring.

“In through your nose, out through your mouth, Em,” David muttered, lacing his fingers through hers when she started yanking on her laces. She grabbed her ring with her other hand.

“As most of you have heard already, Rangers captain Killian Jones suffered a concussion that went undiagnosed in a game against the New Jersey Devils in December,” Ruby started. “Both the Rangers and Devils front offices are looking into the oversight, and while we were hopeful that Jones would make it back for a potential playoff push, that is no longer the case.”

The horde moved, hands jerking into the and recorders thrust forward, like that would make any difference and Emma didn’t remember starting to chew on her lip, but she could taste blood again. It didn’t really go with cheese fries.

Ruby’s glare got sharper.

The reporter in the front row put his recorder down.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Ruby muttered, David laughing softly and that wasn’t part of the pre-presser speech. “This is the official statement from front office. You should have all gotten the brief already, but now you can hear it straight from me. Cap isn’t coming back this season. End of story. Put that in your lede. That’s it.” A reporter raised his hand again. Ruby sighed. “Yeah, what, Zach?”

“Is Cap going to talk?” “I’m standing here, aren’t I?” Killian asked, and both Ruby and Emma rolled their eyes. David laughed again.

“I can see that, Cap. But sometimes you’re just kind of a...figurehead. You know?”

Emma squeezed David’s hand, working a not-so-quiet hiss out of him. “That was shit, wasn’t it?”

“My hand or that asshole reporter?”

“Your hand,” David chuckled. “No, of course the reporter. God, Killian looks like he’s going to kill him right there on camera.” “Checking face.” David mumbled an agreement, letting go of Emma’s hand to wrap an arm around her shoulders and there was something to be said for the steady feel of him against her. That was more heavy-handed.

“Zach, that’s not--” Ruby growled, but Killian moved, standing next to her with narrowed eyes and Zach from wherever visibly recoiled in his seat.

“What’s your question, Zach?” Killian asked brusquely. Ruby shook her head. Her eyes were going to get stuck mid-roll.

Zach’s gaze darted around, like he was looking for fellow media support, a bit disappointed when he didn’t get a single thing from colleagues who were also trying to meet deadline and up their Twitter follower count.

“There’s been talk about what happened, Cap,” Zach said. “And the fine.” “If you want to know how much the fine is, you can get that from the league. That’s public.” “No, no, I don’t really care about the amount.” “Ask a question, Zach.” He nodded, patronizing and obnoxious and Emma exhaled like that was a challenge. Or she could go downstairs and check the asshole herself. They really wouldn’t have been able to afford that fine. “Well, you got hurt in the fight, right?”

Killian didn’t answer, just pressed his lips together. But his cheek was still bruised and he couldn’t really stand up perfectly straight because Victor said that might do something to his ribs and there was a whole new medicine schedule to remember.

“Alright,” Zach sighed, clearly re-examining his interview approach. “So if you’re not going to talk about the fight, then maybe we could get some clarity on what to expect from the rest of...everything.” “Be more specific,” Killian said softly. It didn’t sound like a threat, but it would have been impossible to miss it, a glint in his eyes that Emma only saw when they were down in a playoff series or giving up too many power-play goals and their own power play had looked horrible the night before.

“The Rangers messed up, didn’t they? Missed your symptoms and didn’t stop the fight--” Zach held up his hands when he saw Ruby open her mouth. “I know, I know, Lucas, that’s off the record or unconfirmed, but I mean...Cap’s not usually quite that bruised and battered.” “Get to your goddamn question,” Ruby hissed, and none of this was going according to plan.

Zach grinned. “Fine, fine, fine. Do you think you’ll back on the ice next season, Cap and do you think it’ll be with the Rangers?” “The second part of that question doesn’t make sense,” Killian said. “I’ve got a source that there could be some discussion about moving you around.” “Well your source is an idiot because I’ve got a no trade. I’ve always had that. I’m only ever going to play for this team.” Ruby closed her eyes, retreating away from the podium and Zach appeared to have lost all the blood in his face. Emma licked her lips.

“This is my team,” Killian said, resting his forearms on the podium. That was dumb. He glanced around the room, eyes moving from reporter to reporter and Emma hoped he wasn’t looking for her.

She knew he was looking for her.

“It’s been my team since I got here,” Killian continued. “Because I grew up here. I started playing hockey in this city, bought up my first stick from a place on 89th and learned how to skate, pretty horribly at first, on a tiny patch of ice in Central Park. I learned how to play at the Piers and got my first penalty there. Roughing. Two minutes.”

He took a deep breath, eyes not quite glossy, but getting there and the entire room was frozen. Emma didn’t breathe. She couldn’t. She didn’t want to.

“And something kind of fit with this game,” he said. “I’d...you guys have done the stories. It was a goddamn depressing childhood and hockey didn’t fix that, but it certainly helped. It was...everything. This game and the feeling I got on the ice and how good I was at scoring.” The room laughed.

Emma laughed.

There were tears on her cheeks.

“So I kept scoring and Team USA noticed and Minnesota noticed and of course I went there because I was pretty great at scoring, but I really only ever wanted to be as good as my brother.” Killian flashed a smile, glancing at the cameras in the back of the room, and Emma felt her heart twist. “Liam was,” he exhaled, teeth finding his lip and fingers brushing over the tattoo on the back of his wrist, the same one two of three other horsemen shared. “He was better than me. So much better than me. But, uh, well, you guys wrote those stories too. Everything that happened happened and Liam couldn’t play and I hurt my hand and I thought it was over. It had to be because it…” Emma couldn't wipe her tears away quick enough. That was ridiculous.

And Killian’s smile was shaky at best, voice getting gruffer the longer he talked. His hands moved to the edge of the podium, knuckles going white when it he gripped it because everyone in that rom knew there was more.

“It didn’t didn’t end, right?” Killian asked, shrugging slightly. “The game was still there and still as important as it always was because I thought it was all I had. But, well, then something crazy happened.” Someone called what from the back of the room and Emma’s breath hitched at the force of Killian’s answering look. It was like he was stunned someone had to ask, but was glad they did and she’d never heard his voice turn that way, pride and feeling in every single letter.

“I met my wife,” he answered. “And hockey wasn’t everything anymore. It was important, but it was...a job again. The way it should be. Because it’s a game. And as much as I want to win, as much as we both want to win, she’s...she’s even more competitive than me.”

David kissed Emma’s head again, tugging her tighter against his side when her shoulders started to shake.

“It can’t only be about winning,” Killian said. “I’m not even biased when I tell you that we’ve got the two greatest kids in the world. They’re…” He exhaled, shaking his head slightly like he couldn't believe he’d talked that long. Emma couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a deep breath. “They’re the greatest kids in the world, quote me on that. So I wanted to win for them. I still do. Desperately, if I’m being honest. Which is how we ended up here.

I lost sight of how important everything else was because I thought the only thing I could do to earn it was to play. But that’s...I mean, that’s insane, right?” No one answered his question. Emma might have nodded. “Don’t answer that,” he mumbled. “That was rhetorical. It’s insane. Hockey isn’t everything. My family is and there aren’t enough press conferences to apologize for not remembering that. So, to answer your question, Zach. I don’t know. I want to come back. I want to play for this team and win for this team and my kids. Because my kids deserve a goddamn Stanley Cup parade.

But I’m done risking everything that matters to me for that. And if some kid wants to take my spot on this roster or with this city, then he’s more than welcome to try. You guys got any other questions or we good here?” No one answered. “I think we’re good here, Cap,” Ruby muttered, holding her arm out and Killian nodded as walked away from the podium.

Emma exhaled.

“I’ll totally still arrest him if he does something stupid again,” David mumbled, and they split another burger before she heard the footsteps.

She didn’t turn at first, could feel him staring at the back of her head hard enough that it was nearly enough make her jump up and sling her arms around him and kiss him until he couldn't see straight, but Emma didn’t move.

It probably wasn’t fair, was almost sort of teasing, but she figured, in the grand scheme of things, it sort of made them even.

“Swan,” Killian said softly, and there went any sense of teasing. She wasn’t entirely prepared for the softness in his voice, like a name that was entirely his now was the single most important thing he'd ever said.

Emma spun, met with blue and eyes and slightly parted lips and she thought she noticed him sag slightly when she looked him. Like he’d been holding his breath too.

“Hey,” she muttered. “You’re...I thought you’d still be downstairs.” “I wanted to be here before the presser, but, uh, some stuff happened and I’m--” “--Here now.” Killian nodded. “You have a couple minutes to talk, Swan?”

“Yeah,” Emma whispered. “Yeah, of course.”

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #cs fic #blue line change #listen killian jones loves emma swan a lot #like #it's a lot

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thejollyroger-writer · 6 years ago

Text

Even More New Information Neal Could Have Lived Without Learning About; or, Neal Watches From the Dirt, Where He Belongs

a/n: Yes, hello, I’m back again, because I have no self control and have apparently lost control of my life. I was going to watch certain episodes of the Neverland arc in order to find a logical place to fit these scenes, but I decided that it really didn’t matter, and after the excitement I received in the March Madness discord when I mentioned that I was thinking of adding more to this story, I understood that it really didn’t matter where or even if it fit as long as it meant Neal was forced to watch when the woman he feels possessive of and the man he hates the most in the world bang each other, this time against a tree in the middle of the night. So, enjoy both more sex and a special-added pre-scene that has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with Killian’s hair, which would not exist without @winterbythesea, @captainsjedi and @profdanglaisstuff, and for the continued cheering from @effulgentcolors and the rest of the March Madness discord. Super special thanks to @shireness-says for putting up with me even though I can’t keep with the right tense, like, ever, and @kmomof4 for loving this trope so much that it has apparently sprung back to life.

Also on AO3 // read part one

Neal knew she was doing it on purpose. There was really no other explanation for it. Every time she practiced her magic, the pirate would wind up affected by it. He would lose buttons on his shirt, enough so that he had to go back to his ship on more than one occasion over the next few days to get a new one, the fasteners on his vests the only thing covering that thick shock of dark black hair on his chest. His hair would get messed up, sticking up in every direction — and damn if Neal doesn’t fail to notice just how much this resembles the state of his hair after he watched them on the Jolly. Or he would blush, the tips of his pointed ears and the apples of his cheeks reddening, which never failed to make Emma respond in kind.

She did that for all of these things, actually.

But it’s right now in particular that makes Neal grind his teeth together, the scraping sound of them the only thing keeping him from screaming, swearing, attacking one of them.

No, he tells himself, shaking his head, it would be Hook, that bastard.

He feels like he is going to explode, standing here, everyone standing in a half-circle around Emma, watching her as she tries to control her magic. Everyone but him, who was standing a few feet to her right, more affection in those damned blue eyes of his than he should be able to offer, watching her as she practices.

As her emotion gets the best of her — again — the light that was floating from the palm of her hands spreads out in all directions, forcing her to take a step back and to her right, where he was waiting to catch her with open arms, the top buttons on his vest undone once more, hair wild and unmanageable. But it isn’t until he stares down at her, his only hand running gently down her arm as she smiles softly up at him, that Hook’s cheeks begins to redden.

Neal feels as if the world stops turning around him when everyone stops moving for what feels like eternity as he stares at them, watching them have eyes only for each other right in the middle of the damn campsite.

Thankfully, Regina speaks after the eternity passes. “Alright, try again.”

Emma opens her mouth to speak, but it’s Hook that says the words: “I think that’s more than enough for the time being.”

“You just want to stop losing the buttons to your shirts,” Regina reponds, rolling her eyes at him as they finally take a step away from each other.

“I mean, I just — I don’t understand. I’m the only one who ever seems to be affected by any of this, no one else’s clothing is continually getting ruined and their hair messed up or —”

“Literally, Hook, we have much bigger problems than your hair getting messed up right now.” Regina sounds like she is just as annoyed by this whole situation as Neal is.

“We are waiting to hear back from Pan, there’s nothing we can do right now anyway.”

Regina huffs at him, sharply turning on her heel before walking away from the group. Snow White and David share a look, the prince shrugging, before they walk away, as well. Neal joins them, walking to the edge of the clearing, but he stays close enough to the edge of it, leaning up against a tree that hides most of his body from the two that remain.

Emma turns back to Hook, who is trying to tame his unruly hair, a smirk painted across her face, her voice low and tainted with something that turns Neal’s blood to ice. “Stop trying to fix your hair, it’s fine.”

“It most certainly is not.”

“It’s always fine,” Emma says, and though Neal narrows his eyes at her, she only seems to realize what exactly has left her mouth when the blue-eyed monster standing next to her chuckles lightly under his breath, her eyes snapping up to his.

Neal watches in awe as the pirate’s tongue flicks out to slowly wet his bottom lip, followed closely by the pad of his thumb, just as unable to take his eyes off his foul mouth as Emma seems to be. “Is that so?” he mumbles, leaning close enough to Emma’s ear that his lips must be touching it. The only reasonable explanation Neal can find as to why he just heard the pirate’s low grumble is the adrenaline rushing through his veins as he, once again, watches Hook touch the woman he is supposed to be with.

“I — I didn’t —” She stumbles over the words, but the redness quickly spreading across her face is a dead giveaway of the effect the man’s words have on her, and Neal is amazed to watch the beginnings of a smile that spread across her face, pulling her mask away for a fraction of a moment. “Just shut up,” she says, turning to face him head-on as she weaves one of her hands into the hair in question, the other wrapping around the lapel of his leather jacket and pulling his lips to hers.

Neal turns away, angrily pushing the branches in his path out of his way, and though the words he grumbles under his breath as leaves and twigs crunch under his feet are incoherent, the anger that seethes through his veins is very, very real.

“Jones,” she whispers, softly sliding across the few feet between them until she can touch him.

Neal struggles to hide the groan that rises to his lips when he hears it. How could he possibly have heard her whisper his name, when she is right next to him, and Neal is on the other side of the clearing?

Right. Because ever since searching for the pirate two days ago and finding him ravaging the girl Neal’s supposed to be with, he hasn’t been able to sleep. Worse, he hasn’t been able to close his eyes without seeing them, pressed up against the railing as he touches her, or, worse, as she rides him on the deck of his ship.

He’s exhausted. Super fucking exhausted, and wants nothing more than to be able to sleep, even for just a few minutes. But the nightmare he sees just by closing his eyes, the nightmare he watched happen before him, is enough to keep him from seeking sleep. If this is the nightmare that happens in real life, he’s terrified of what could be hiding in his dreams, waiting to rear its head.

But hearing Emma call out for him in the middle of the night, watching as she reaches her hand out to find his arm? That might be worse.

“Jones, wake up, please.”

Neal watches as the pirate starts awake, his hand finding the hilt of his sword beside him, and somehow, Neal can see the man’s damn blue eyes soften, practically glowing in the odd light of the Neverland moon, can see the fear drain out of them when it’s Emma’s face he sees, and not whatever was haunting his dreams.

“Swan,” he breathes, but then takes a moment to remember where he is, worry overtaking his face once more. “What’s the matter?”

“I just —” she tries, the words not coming, and she pulls her lip up between her teeth. “I need —”

Neal doesn’t fail to see the slight smile that grows across the pirate’s face as he watches Emma struggle with her words. What an asshole.

“Aye, love, I know,” he replies, his voice much softer than it has a right to be, and when he reaches out to touch her arm, she does not shy away from him. If anything, he can swear that she actually seems to calm at his touch. “Whatever it is, though, I think it’s safe to assume that right here is not the best place for it, eh?”

She sighs, her head falling and landing with a thump against his leather-clad arm. When she raises her eyes, her hand comes with it, and Neal can swear that she points directly at him. “I’m going to go that way. Make sure no one sees you follow.”

Before he can respond, she pushes herself up off the ground, the muscles of her arms that her tank top reveals quivering, and walks out of the clearing. Hook begins to look around at each of them, and Neal squeezes his eyes shut, hoping that he will pass over him without a second look. When Hook does not immediately stand and follow Emma out of the clearing, Neal thinks he may have been caught; the man may be a lot of terrible things in Neal’s mind, but even he has to admit that he makes a damn good ship captain.

But then he pushes himself to stand, his leather duster billowing behind him as he walks out of the clearing, and Neal releases the breath he was holding.

It takes every drop of his self-control not to pound the ground with his fists, to let out the scream of anguish he feels rising through his chest. If he wasn’t sure that Hook was a better fighter than he is in every possible form — except, perhaps, with a gun, though he seems to be without one here — then he would go after him, wrestle him to the ground, and knock the life out of him. But he can do none of that, so he simply tries to calm the pounding of his heart as he listens to the pirate follow Emma through the woods.

Judging by the sound of his footsteps, they do not go very far, the sound of them stopping before it fades off into the thick forest. Taking a chance, Neal rolls over, shuffling as silently as he can to a hole between the trees. He’s not even sure what he expects from it, knowing that it’s far from possible for it to actually give him a vantage point for what is going on between Emma and the pirate — but through some trickery of Pan’s or the forest or simply the hell he has found himself in since coming to Storybrooke, that’s exactly what he gets. He might still be on the ground, but the hole between the trees reveals them to him. He has boxed her against a tree, the forearm of his hook-handed arm leaning on the trunk above her head and his hand ghosting against the skin of her hip, which is peeking out between the bottom of her tank top and the top of her jeans. With her hands are behind her back, pressed against the bark of the tree, their only point of contact his thumb against her hip, disappearing under the hem of her shirt for a moment.

Neal does not fail to notice the way the pirate boxes her in, like she is a possession unable to get away from him. It should be Neal's arm that she is under, Neal's finger against her soft skin, Neal's mouth mumbling into her ear, Neal's lips pressed against the hollow of her throat, running up to her ear before trailing back down to her collarbone, and not the sinful, traitorous lips of that pirate.

A sneer spreads across his lips as Neal realizes that Emma has not reacted at all to the touch of his lips against her, her hands still pressed against the tree behind her, but then he realizes that she is still talking, that her lips are still moving.

But when Hook noses the strap of her tank top away, nipping at the skin he's revealed, her mouth hangs open and her eyes flutter shut as she lets out a dragging moan that reaches Neal's ears, igniting a desire within him that has nothing to do with the pirate and everything to do with his need to hear those noises again.

“Jones,” she mumbles, louder than the whispers that she was emitting before, but her breathlessness is still obvious. “You’re not even listening to me.”

He pulls back enough to look at her, a hardness in his expression that Neal can see clearly, even with the space between them. “I’m trying my damnedest, darling, but you make it so bloody difficult.” His voice is a low growl, reminding Neal more of an animal than a man — fitting, he thinks, because that man is an animal.

In the reflection of the moonlight, Neal can see Emma’s face clearly, the porcelain of her skin practically glowing in the pale light, and he recognizes the impatient, annoyed expression on her face.

The pirate must recognize it, as well, his voice softer when he speaks again. “I truly am sorry, love, but can you really blame a man for not being able to curb his desires when the very object of his dreams wakes him in the middle of an exceptionally detailed one?”

Neal hears Emma’s breath hitch at his confession, her eyes widening as she slowly turns her head to meet his piercing gaze. He slowly raises his eyebrows, his tongue doing that damned thing against his lower lip again, and in one swift movement, her hands are out from behind her ass, one sliding under his leather duster to pull him against her while the other flies to his hair, burying itself deep in his locks. Neal can swear things all start happening in slow motion, some things he shouldn’t even notice from the distance he’s at but notices nonetheless: Hook’s tongue darts out of his mouth, running deliberately slowly against Emma’s bottom lip; Emma unsnaps the buttons on his newest vest and the black shirt underneath it, running her fingers through the hair that covers his stomach before wrapping both her arms around him to pull him flush against her; his hand runs up her side, disappearing under her tank top until it reaches her breasts, the fabric tight enough against her there that Neal can see his fingers moving under the material. Emma hisses in a sharp breath, pulling his hips even tighter against hers before moving her hands between them, though her fingers seem to struggle with the laces she finds there.

He pulls away from her, his hook leaving the tree above her head to push her arms away from the very-present bulge of his leather breeches, but his lips don’t leave her as they run down her neck once more, his hand moving back down her stomach to press against the front of her jeans.

“Please, Emma, just let me take care of you.” It’s not a question, not a demand, but a plea — one that Neal absolutely sees through, and he knows Emma does, also.

Neal bites back the laugh that rises through him at the pirate’s words. Lies, of course. Emma should know by now that no man would ever object themselves to that, should know that no matter what he said, he would always expect something in return. That’s just how it works. Hell, he wants to applaud her when she fists a clump of his hair and pulls his lips off her collarbone, demanding he meet her gaze. Her eyes narrow at him, her telltale sign of searching his face for the dishonesty Neal knows she will find there.

When she speaks again, he expects her to accuse him of lying to her, lies that she can see past. But instead, her voice is small, thick with uncertainty and something Neal does not recognize.

“You would do that for me?”

“I would do anything for you,” he whispers, his voice full of an affection that boils Neal’s blood. He has no right to lie to her like—

“No one has ever —”

“I can assure you, darling, I am more of a gentleman than any man that has been graced with permission to touch you has been, and the only thing I desire right now is for you to allow me to watch as I cause you to fall apart.”

Another lie that Emma will see through immediately, Neal thinks, even if it is just trying to make himself feel better.

“Are you —” she tries again, but something on the face on the man before her makes her stop.

“Please, Emma,” he whispers, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek in his palm, running his thumb against it. “Please, just grant me this.”

There is something in his voice that shakes Neal to the bone, a sincerity that even he cannot deny, and he suddenly understands that, perhaps, he is telling the truth.

In place of an answer, Emma simply pulls her tank top and sports bra up over her head, exposing herself to him. Neal smiles, feeling his own cock begin to stir awake at the sight, and he begins to contemplate pulling himself free and pleasuring himself at the sight of her this time, all other companions of their motley group on the far side of the clearing.

“Here, love, that tree must be rough against your skin,” he says, his voice somehow soft as he sheds his leather duster, pulling her away from the tree long enough to place the jacket over her shoulders and give her protection against the hard wood behind her.

She smiles at him, far too sincere to make Neal comfortable, though as soon as she pulls his lips back to hers, her hand finds his own and leads it down to the snap of her jeans, which she helps him loosen before stepping out of them.

“In a bit of a hurry, are we?” Hook asks, the desire in his voice somehow much more obvious than just moments before, deeper and darker than his whispered pleas.

Emma laughs, her face pressed against his shoulder as he slowly moves his lips back down her neck. “Are you complaining? Because, rest assured, I can always put it back—”

“On the contrary, love, I want nothing less than to worship your breasts at every occasion you grant me, since they are one of the most glorious sights I have ever beheld.” He ducks his head down, flicking his tongue out against one of her pebbled nipples before covering it with his mouth. “And, might I add, that is saying a lot for a man who has beheld as many glorious sights as I.”

When his lips reach her skin again, her laughter turns to a deep moan, one that travels directly through Neal’s body and causes his half-hard erection to shift in his jeans. Until two days ago, he would have sworn that the last thing that could pull those noises from Emma Swan would be any use of her nipples, though it should have been his tongue that pulled the sound from her, should still be his tongue that gets to do it now. But even though he’s not the one that’s making her make that noise, there’s no reason he shouldn’t be able to use it for his own advantage, right?

She says nothing in response to his statement. Instead, she pulls one of her hands out of his hair and begins to palm her other breast, switching when Hook’s mouth does the same. His hand is anchored against her hip, though it is now fully uncovered. Neal can see the deep indentations on her skin from his fingers against it, and a new wave of possessiveness washes through him. If anyone should be allowed to leave marks on her skin, it should be him.

Straightening his back again, his mouth returns to hers, tongue already searching for passage before their lips lock together. He finally lowers his other arm from where it has been resting against the tree, using his hook and his hand to shed her underwear, pooling them around her ankles before he steps forward, placing himself between her legs and pushing the bulge within his leather pants against her bare core. Even with just his current movements, she ruts her hips against him, searching in much the same way Neal finds himself doing for some sort of relief.

“Gods above,” he moans, wrapping his hand further around her back, now hidden with the dark leather duster, but Neal can still tell that he pulls her closer to him. “How perfect you are, pressed against me, using my body to take your pleasure.”

The moans that leave her body as she uses him go straight to Neal's core, hardening him to the point where it becomes painful. He turns his head and sweeps his eyes over the rest of the campsite, and even if someone over there was awake, they are too far away to care about anything Neal is doing, or the fact that Emma and the pirate are nowhere to be seen, except by Neal.

Hook's hand comes back around her body to pull her leg up against his hip, and Emma's groaned “Fuck” is all Neal can take, rolling onto his side so he can loosen his jeans and free himself from his boxers. Just the feel of his hand wrapping around his own erection alleviates some of the pressure that has grown in him, and he has to bite back a moan, especially when Hook lowers her leg and presses his fingers between her thighs, pulling another groan and whispered curse from her perfect lips.

“So wet for me, Emma,” the pirate growls, and Neal can swear that he can feel it, can feel her wetness around him as he pleasures himself at the sight of her. “Wet and wanting and absolutely fucking perfect and all for me.”

Not if I have anything to do about it, Neal thinks, too focused on what he is doing to himself to contemplate the humor of his statement: Emma did not wake him up in the middle of the night, did not choose him to talk to — to fuck — two days ago on the deck of his ship. There is nothing he can do about it, he fails to understand, because she has already chosen the pirate.

Neal may not be able to tell what that man is doing with his fingers, his lips trailing all over her body as he does so, but as long as Emma continues to make those sounds, it really doesn't matter to him — he's already so close to release himself.

But then, it changes. Instead of her groans, the breathless moans falling from her lips, she begins to… speak?

“I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, Jones,” she mumbles, then takes a sharp breath in response to one of the ways he is touching her. “Since we kissed, your confession in the cave, since what we did on the deck of your ship the other day, you, your lips and your body and those things you've done to me have been the only thing on my mind.”

Neal stops, his once-rock-hard erection almost softening in his hand. She can't be serious. They're here to save their son, to keep Pan from taking him from them forever, and she's been so focused on the damn pirate instead?

“Good,” Hook groans, his mouth against her ear and the curve of his hook teasing the pebbled flesh of her nipple, and Neal almost loses it completely. No, not “good.” Very bad, actually. Has everyone forgotten about Henry? “When we rescue your lad and get off this godforsaken island, that's when the fun will begin.” She ruts her hips against him again, a response to whatever he is doing between her legs, and she leans her head back against the tree, opening her throat to his lips.

Suddenly, her hand leaves his hair and grabs his hook in one swift movement, and he pulls his lips from her skin to look at her in the pale moonlight. But she does nothing, simply stands there, eyes wide and staring back at him like a deer in the headlights.

“What's the matter, darling?” he whispers, and she does not immediately answer, so he adds, “Tell me what you want.”

She blinks quickly, a few times in a row, before smiling at him, something wicked unlike anything Neal has ever seen. “Use the hook,” she groans, leading said appendage between her legs, and the responding smile from the pirate, paired with a low chuckle, is just as sinister. She can't be serious, he thinks again, disgusting him further, but as soon as the cool metal reaches the warm flesh between her legs, the yelp she emits before Hook can cover her mouth with his is enough to rekindle the fire in Neal's belly.

It's one thing to be attracted to the incomplete man — even Neal has to admit that there is something incredibly appealing about his dark features and piercing blue eyes — but to be attracted to the pieces of him that make him incomplete? That's something else entirely, something that almost causes Neal to give up his endeavors for the night, until her response to it — no matter how unnatural it may be — brings him back to life in his hand.

“There is one more thing I want from you,” Hook groans, and Neal bites his teeth to hold back the laughter that comes ripping up his throat. He knew it. No man in his right mind would ever just want to —

But Hook's lips start to trail down, past Emma's breasts and onto her stomach as he tells her, “The memory of your sweet nectar on my tongue has been driving me mad, and I fear it may overtake me if I don't —”

“Wait,” she groans, both of her hands in his hair to stop him from moving, pulling his lips back up to hers, and she sucks her bottom lip up between her teeth. Neal knew it, she couldn't actually like it when she allowed him to do it last time. “I — yes, I want you to, fuck,” she breathes. “But I'm — god, Killian, I'm so close right now, just get me there first.”

There it is again, her whispered Killian, another reminder that Neal certainly does not need that the man before him is a man instead of the monster that Neal has come to think of him as.

A smile lights up the man's face, an odd mixture somewhere between wicked and sincere, and the chaste kiss he touches against her lips turns to something much more passionate when she pulls his face closer to hers.

It's almost instant, with his lips against hers, his fingers teasing her nipple, and his hook between her legs, and she comes with the long moan that has haunted Neal's dreams for almost twelve years. It's that moan that does it for him, and he spills himself onto the ground at the very edge of the clearing, coming with a silent groan of his own.

When he directs his attention back to them after taking a few moments to recompose himself, Hook has done exactly as Emma asked, has brought her to her completion, but Neal is surprised — and perhaps a little angered — that she is still responding to his movements, even with their new position: Hook on his knees before her, one of her perfectly toned legs slung over his shoulder, and his fingers seem to be inside her while his head is buried between her legs. Her hips buck wildly against his face, one hand planted in his hair while the other is wrapped around his hook, pressed into the thigh of the leg over his shoulder.

How is she still making those sounds? And how has the pirate not spilled himself into his own pants, having her responding to him like that?

“Fuck, Killian, please,” she whispers before a breathy laugh escapes her.

“What, darling?” he asks, his lips never leaving her skin.

“Please, don't — don't stop.”

Now it's his turn to laugh, far less breathy and much deeper than hers, and he shakes his head, pulling her thigh higher against his shoulder to open her up more to him.

“I don't intend to stop until every inch of you has been fully satisfied, until your legs start to tremble beneath you and you're not sure you can handle even one more touch of me against you.”

Neal narrows his eyes, angry at both the pirate and the expectations he is doling out. His Emma had never lasted this long, surely he can't be serious?

He doesn't need to watch any more, should just roll away from them and try to get some rest, since his dreams certainly can't be worse than what is literally happening before his eyes. But he's curious, and somehow Emma is still making those damned noises, so he can't tear his eyes from her.

Much to Neal's discontent, Emma's groans do not stop as the pirate continues, his lips against her and his fingers inside her — and, even more to his discontent, she does begin to tremble under his touch, which causes him to wrap the arm with the hook around the back of her, holding her steady against him.

“That's it, my Swan,” he breathes, and Neal notices that his fingers moving inside her have started to slow as he pulls his lips away from her, resting his forehead against her stomach. “Deep breaths, come back to me now.”

The obvious affection in his voice chills Neal to the bone. He has no right to have feelings for her, feelings that he is allowed to show while Neal has to bury his deep inside and hope that one day he does not combust. Suddenly, he doesn't care that Emma is not fully down off the high of her orgasm, that she is still moving against his fingers as they move within her — he's had enough, seen enough, and rolls away from them, hoping that his own release is enough to allow him for a few hours’ rest before the rise of the sun.

#cs fics #my writing #wordsbymeganmichael #anti-neal #anti-sf #which i think the title gives away enough #keep your eyes opened for a follow up #that happens while neals' asleep #though I have to be productive in other ways today too #or should be at least #cs smut #you guys rock

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blznbaby · 6 years ago

Text

Man Flu

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC (Marcella)

Audience: PG. Humor and Fluff. Some sexual content. Nothing crazy.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Pixleberry Studios.

Masterlist

Tags: @museofbooks @callmetippytumbles @cocomaxley @hopefulmoonobject @pixieferry @i-choose-liam @zaffrenotes @brightpinkpeppercorn

Marcella laid sexily on the enormous bed. Scented candles flickered brightly, casting a warm glow to illuminate the dim room while emitting a delicious scent. Liam would walk in any minute now from his business trip in Italy. It had been days since she’d been in her husband’s arms and she was anxiously awaiting his return. She looked stunning in her sheer, white, beaded silk nightgown that hugged her curves in all the right places and smelled heavenly courtesy to the perfume Liam had gifted her on their most recent wedding anniversary. The bedroom door slowly opened, heralding her king’s return. She smiled, her body tingling with anticipation. Liam went straight for the bed and sprawled out, eyes closed, still clothed in his royal regalia. Shoes and all. She wasn’t even sure if he noticed she was there. “Liam?” she asked cautiously. He let out a small moan, but didn’t stir. Marcella looked with concern at her husband who lay unmoving on the bed. “Liam, are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?”

Liam opened his eyes. “Marcella…” he moaned hoarsely. “Don't come too close, my love. I’m dying…”

“You're what?” she asked, alarmed.

“I’m sick. I’m dying…” he repeated, coughing a few times to emphasize his point before closing his eyes again. She gave him a quick once over. He certainly didn’t look like he was dying. In fact, he didn’t even look extremely ill, just a slight flush in his cheeks and a groan or two. She got up to fetch him a cup of tea in hopes that it would make him feel a little less like he was “dying.” She blew out the candles with a sigh on her way out. Apparently this wasn’t going to be the romantic night she’d envisioned for them at all.

ooOoo

“Marcella, I need to go to the hospital!”

“Liam, your temperature is only slightly elevated,” she replied, stroking his forehead with an amused smile.

“That thermometer must be broken then,” he declared, sulking. Marcella had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

“It works perfectly fine, Liam. You’re not dying, you just have a cold, you'll live.” He didn’t look as though he believed her. “Marcella, you don't feel how I’m feeling right now!” he protested pathetically. Such a drama king. When she said her vows ‘in sickness and in health,’ she never imagined this. Last night, Liam had come down with a cold, as demonstrated by his runny/stuffy nose, sore throat, cough, and watery eyes, but from the way he’d been acting, you would have thought the man had caught the plague. Marcella’s expert diagnosis: man flu. The dreaded godfather of all ailments, which takes over the male species at any given time, resulting in grouchiness, moodiness, and general feeling of feebleness and pathetic whining and her brave, confident, resilient husband, the King of Cordonia wasn’t immune to such an affliction. And now she must also suffer. She tried calling for backup, but Liam refused all help from friends and staff not wanting to infect the population. He hadn’t left their bedroom since the night prior, curled up in bed like some kind of overly-large fetus, watching crappy talk shows and requesting honey and lemon drinks in the most pathetic voice she’d ever heard whenever she got anywhere near the vicinity of the landing. He was working her nerves.

“Marcella?” Liam coughed as she bypassed the bedroom on her way to the linen closet. “My love, is that you?” Oh for heaven’s sake. “Yes, Liam. It’s me.”

There he was in the bed, his head laid on a cloud of fluffy pillows, buried under a dozen blankets with Chance curled up at his side. His perfectly placed hair was now a disheveled mess, sticking up in every direction. He sniffled, wiping at his red nose with a tissue before tossing it in the bedside trashcan along with the rest of the discarded tissues. “What now, Liam?” she asked with a sigh. He looked up at her pitifully. “I’d think that in my vulnerable state, you’d speak to me a bit more nicely.”

“You have a cold, Liam.”

“I have the flu,” he replied, looking wounded.

“Yeah, man flu,” she countered. Just then Liam’s phone rang. Marcella answered since her husband claimed to be “too weak” to pick up. It was Drake asking how his best friend was holding up.

“He’s fine. Just over reacting a little,” Marcella said with a grin.

“I am not. You all may very well need a new king.”

“I swear you get more and more dramatic with each day that passes. You’re turning into Regina.” She smiled to herself, knowing he really hated to even consider being anything like the woman.

“Your words wound me more than any case of the flu ever could.”

Marcella sighed again as she entered the room. This was the fifth time in the last hour that Liam had called for her. She tried to rearrange her face into an expression of sympathy, which wasn’t too hard, actually. She wasn’t used to Liam being like this and the sight of him was rather pitiful. He pointed toward the end of the bed. “My feet are cold.” She shook her head. “That’s because you’ve pulled the blankets all the way up and around your chin.” He just looked at her, eyes begging for help. She rearranged his blankets, covering his feet and looked up to see him holding the banana she had brought to him earlier at his request, his look, perplexed, like he couldn’t figure out what to do with it. He held it out to her, a pleading look on his face.

“Seriously? I know you're sick and the king and all, but I know even you can handle peeling a banana. It’s not that hard.” He just sniffled and coughed, and she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. “Oh, give it here,” she sighed. “You big baby.”

“And could you please cut it up?” he added as she took the fruit from him and cut it up on the small tray that also held his untouched tea. “And be sure to drink up,” she added as she cut the banana. Liam looked at the teacup like it had grown horns. “But…no straw?”

“Since when the hell do you need a straw to drink tea?!” A coughing fit overtook the stricken king, and in between coughs he managed to choke out, “please,” blinking his watery eyes. “And not just any straw. My favorite straw.” Marcella put on a tight smile and mumbled something under her breath as she went to retrieve his swirly straw. When she returned Liam was cocooned so far down into the blankets that only his messy dark hair was visible. “Liam?” she whispered. No answer. She slipped out of the room shutting the door carefully and did a victory dance when she made it to the stairs. “Marcella! My feet are cold again!”

ooOoo

Marcella sighed and shut her eyes as she heard the ringing in her ears. Why did she give Liam that damn bell?! He’d been ringing it incessantly for two days now. She thought it would be better than him bellowing her name every five minutes. She was wrong. He was the king for goodness sake! The man who in his thirty years of life had endured more pain and suffering to last a lifetime, but somehow the common cold brought him to his knees. Every little symptom was cause for complaint and she wasn't sure how much more she could take. She heard the bell ring again, followed by a pitiful moan. “Marcella…” She entered the room, hands on her hips. “You rang, Your Majesty?”

“My love, could you please close the curtains? I’m afraid the sunlight is hurting my sensitive eyes.” She bit her lip and nodded. “Sure.” She walked over and pulled the curtains closed.

“But perhaps not that much. I enjoy a little bit of light.” Her fists clenched as she pulled the curtains open a bit, nearly pulling them off the rod with her solid grip. “Better?”

“Perfect.” He offered her a weak smile. “Thank you.”

“Anything else I can get you before I go? Lemon syrup? Cough drops? I dunno…cupcakes?”

He looked at her, stunned. “You’re leaving?”

“Liam," she sighed. "I’ve been waiting on you hand and foot for three days now. I have to get back to work and make sure things are in order. With Regina and Leo away there's been no one to help cover our duties.”

“I see. Well, my apologies for being so much trouble,” he mumbled.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. She knew what he was doing and it wasn’t going to work. She handed him his phone. “If you need me, call me and I’ll come right back.”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” he muttered. “I’m sure I can fend for myself in my declining state.” Against her better judgement, she pressed a kiss to his lips. She didn’t want to risk getting sick, but she knew a kiss would placate him for a bit. “You’ll be fine.” She assured him.

“I beg to differ. I feel like I’m on my deathbed and my head is going to explode. I still think I need to go to the hospital.”

“For the thousandth time, you do not need to go to the hospital. It's just the common cold.”

“There’s nothing common about it.” He scoffed. “Why isn't there a cure for this infernal disease?” he cried in frustration.

“First of all, it isn’t a disease and the only cure is to ride this thing out and try to relieve the symptoms with over the counter drugs like we’ve been doing.”

“I suppose I’ll just suffer then.”

"Whatever you say, my king."

Liam missed Marcella the moment she walked out the door, but then again he always missed her, but he was especially missing the fact that there was no one to take care of him now. Sure he could call on the wait staff, but he wanted his wife. He decided that the common cold was far worse than any other affliction he’d ever faced. Being confined in the bed for three days was absolute hell. He let out a sigh. He was bored. Maybe there was something on tv that would distract him from his pain and suffering. Where’s the remote? He looked on the bed, but didn’t see it. Damn it.

ooOoo

“Hey, Hawkins,” Drake greeted when he spotted Marcella in the hallway. “How’s Liam? Still under the weather?”

“Yeah. And being a huge baby.”

“And you’re surprised?” Said the new voice in the hallway. Olivia. “Men are such pussies when they’re sick.”

“Hey! I resent that.” Drake objected.

“Oh, please. You’re the worst of them all. Remember when you had strep throat?” Olivia grinned.

“I couldn’t swallow.”

“I found you laying in the fetal position on the bathroom floor.”

He shrugged. “It was painful.”

Just then Marcella’s cell phone rang and she saw the name on the screen. Liam. “Speak of the devil,” she said, answering the phone. “Yes, love?”

“I can’t find the remote control.”

“Maybe it fell on the floor or under the bed. Did you look there?”

“I didn't. I’m far too weak and lightheaded.” Marcella pinched the bridge of her nose. She heard him groan.

“Ah, there it is!” she breathed a sigh of relief. “…but…it’s out of reach.”

“Liam, you’re insane if you think I’m coming back just to pick up the remote.”

“Please, my love. I’m losing my mind with boredom.” She sighed. Heavily. “Fine. I’ll also bring you some chicken soup from the kitchens.”

“Thank you, my love.”

She entered the bedroom and found the remote three feet from the bed, handing it to the sick king. “Feeling any better?” she asked. “I am now that you’re here,” he smiled and she couldn’t help but to smile back at him. He was a royal pain in the ass, but he was her royal pain in the ass. “Here’s your soup. Eat up whenever you’re hungry,” she held it up for him to see and placed it on the nightstand. “You’re not going to feed it to me?” She swore that if she didn’t love the man so much she’d probably kill him.

Eventually, Liam gathered up the strength to sit up and eat the soup. He sighed. No spoon. He rung the bell, then remembered that no one would come. Marcella wasn’t there. He sighed again. The soup was now only lukewarm at best. He stared at the door, just the thought of having to go all the way downstairs to warm up the soup and get a spoon was too much to bear. He was far too weak.

Marcella groaned as she looked at the stack of paperwork that had accumulated on her desk over the last few days. She wasn’t even fifteen minutes in before her phone rang. “Yes, Liam?”

“The soup is cold…and I don’t have a spoon.”

She closed her eyes. “And I’m assuming there’s no chance of you going to the kitchen to warm it up and get a spoon.”

“I can’t even consider it in my debilitated state. I’m likely to fall down the stairs if I attempt such a thing.” She rubbed her temple and prayed for patience. He was tap dancing on her last nerve. You love him, you love him, you love him, she chanted in her head serving as a reminder that she vowed to love him no matter what. The worst part was that she knew he would do it for her, but of course, she wouldn’t be the big baby that he was being. But then, she wasn’t a man either. She shook her head. He’s not himself and he will be the caring, charming self-assured man you married in no time. She opened her eyes and glanced at the pile of paperwork, maybe she could use a break.

Marcella entered the bedroom to retrieve the lukewarm soup and she knew he was watching her ass as she left. He was so predictable, no matter how sick he claimed to be. She returned a short time later with piping hot soup and a spoon, agreeing to feed it to him to escape the mountain of paperwork. Liam smiled at her, and took her hand, the act the most natural thing in the world to him and she used her free hand to feed him the soup until he had his fill.

“Thank you for taking care of me, my love. I know I haven’t been the easiest patient.”

“You’re welcome. I know you would do the same for me.”

“I’d do anything for you.” He replied softly. And she knew it was the truth. “And I’m sorry that my intense illness ruined our evening the other night. You looked absolutely gorgeous in that nightgown. I wanted you so bad. But I didn’t want you to get sick too…”

“Yes, I wouldn’t have wanted to catch your uh…’intense illness,’” she agreed. “But its okay, Liam. I love you, and the only thing I want is for you to get better.”

“I love you too,” he replied softly, putting his arm around her and pulling her close. They stayed like that for a while, enjoying the feel of each other. Before long, Liam had fallen asleep, letting out a small snore, and she smiled at her beloved, hypochondriac husband as she left to go back to work.

ooOoo

The next morning, Liam was feeling a bit better. He watched his wife as she slept, looking like a peaceful, beautiful angel and felt a tinge of guilt for acting like a self-absorbed fool. He thanked his lucky stars for Marcella's remarkable restraint, obviously taking her vows 'in sickness and in health' very seriously as evidenced to the fact that she hadn't killed him. She was amazing and he needed her to know how grateful he was to be her husband. How fortunate he was to get to spend his life with her. How amazing his life had been since she became a part of it. He threw the covers back and, feeling a little unsteady, forced himself out of bed. He quickly and quietly showered, dressed, and headed downstairs.

Liam entered their bedroom with a tray of eggs, bacon, fruit, his famous Belgian waffles, and a cup of coffee made just how he knew she liked it. He could have easily called the cook, but he wanted to do this for her. With every move, he felt himself gaining more strength and energy. He was beginning to feel much better. I can do anything for her.

“Liam..you...what are you doing out of bed?” Marcella stammered as she sat up.

“Good morning, my love." He sat the tray on the table and sat beside her on the bed. “You’ve cared for me for three days and I wanted to do something to show you my gratitude. Please forgive me for my extreme behavior.”

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his lips. “There’s nothing to forgive. Like I said before, I know you would have done the same for me. Even though, I wouldn't act like the big baby you were being.” They chuckled and his hand cupped her check, thumb caressing her soft skin, as he looked into her beautiful brown eyes. “Just know that I will never take you for granted. You have made me happier than I've ever thought possible. Getting to wake up next to you every morning and have you fall asleep in my arms every night is nothing short of amazing. I am the luckiest man in the world to be able to call you my wife.” God I love this man. She looked into his dark eyes. The eyes she got to wake up to every morning. He never ceased to amaze her. They shared the amazing breakfast he prepared and ate every bite. “How did you do all of this if you were feeling so sick?”

“I guess love has incredible healing powers.” He winked. “I am feeling much better.” Marcella straddled his lap, snaking her arms around his neck. “Well enough for some extracurricular activities?” she asked seductively. If he wasn't before, he was now. He crushed his lips to hers in a passionate kiss, flipping her onto the mattress, his body on top of hers. God how I've missed this. He pulled back and lovingly caressed her cheek as he stared into her eyes.There’s the man I married.

“I think it’s safe to say that someone has made a full recovery. It’s a miracle!” she teased.

“Yes. Thanks to you. You, my love, are the best medicine.” And he gladly accepted every dose of her powerful medicine every three to six hours. Just what the doctor ordered.

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littlej097 · 6 years ago

Text

For Those in My Heart - Chapter 8 “The Proposal”

Prompt: Robin finally decides to propose to Regina

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

It was Sunday. This was Robin’s favorite day of the week. Regina didn’t have to work. The kids were home from school and they were all together. He really valued this time with all of them. Henry was sixteen now and Robin knew that time would fly by until he was ready to set out on his own, whether that be for college or something. However, Robin knew that if Regina had her way, it would definitely be college that Henry was heading towards.

Roland, although he was only 6, was growing up so fast. He had started kindergarten this year and was quickly changing from an inquisitive little toddler to a sweet, kind and often rambunctious kid. Even Addy had changed so much during this year. She had gone from a tiny newborn baby to an almost one year old who was smiling, giggling and trying to walk.

They really had become a family during this year but Robin felt as though something was missing. He was an old fashioned kind of guy and he wanted to officially blend this family forever. He wanted to propose to Regina. He had been wanting to do it for such a long time, but simply couldn’t figure out how to do it.

Regina was such a special woman and she deserved so much more than a run of the mill proposal. Robin would have given her the whole world if he was able to. She had so effortlessly fallen into the role of being Roland’s mother and though it had taken a little longer with Addy, she had got there. Now, when Robin saw her with his children, he couldn’t feel anything but love. Regina looked at Roland and Addy just as she looked at Henry. Robin knew that in her mind, there was no divide. All three of them were her children. Robin also couldn’t ask for a better partner, a better soul mate. In his eyes, Regina was perfect. She was beautiful, smart and caring. She was everything that he’d ever want in a wife and Robin didn’t want to wait any longer. But first, he knew he had to ask someone else an even bigger question.

Later that week, Robin took Henry fishing. The boy had been begging him to go and Robin was more than happy to oblige. Together, they walked down the trail in the forest until they made it to Robin’s favorite fishing spot. It was a private spot that not many knew about. Robin had found it while searching for a new camp for his merry men. Upon seeing the beauty and the peacefulness of the area, Robin decided this wasn’t the space for his rowdy merry men and decided to keep the space for just himself. “Thanks for taking me fishing, Robin,” Henry said, his voice full of excitement.

“Anytime, my boy,” Robin replied. “Now, do you know how to get your pole ready and your hook baited?”

“Not really,” the young boy replied with a laugh. “Mom’s not much of a fishermen and the closest that my other mom has gotten to fish is when she heats fish sticks up the oven, ” Robin laughed. He knew that Henry was absolutely right. He had been there for Emma’s fish stick escapade and it had not ended well. There had been a fair bit of smoke and the loud chirping of the smoke alarm to conclude the evening.

“Alright then,” Robin began. “It’s not very difficult. Let me show you.” He added. He grabbed Henry’s pole and showed him how to pull the fishing line through the pole so it wouldn’t get tangled. Then he pulled out a worm from the bait they had bought and wove it onto the hook. “There, you’re all set. Now, to cast, you throw the line back over your shoulder and make sure to look before you do. No one wants to end up with a hook in their lip instead of in a fish’s mouth. Have you got it?”

“I think so,” Henry replied. He took the pole from Robin’s outstretched hands and cast it over his shoulder like the older man had just showed him. The bobber landed in the water with a loud “plop” and began to float.

“There, you’re a natural.” Robin exclaimed.

“Or I have a great teacher,” Henry added. Robin smiled back at the boy and then cast his own line. The two men sat down on an old fallen tree together and waited for the fish to seek out their bait. It was quiet for a moment and Robin could feel himself getting nervous.

“Henry, Could I- Could I ask you something?” Robin stuttered out.

“Yeah sure, what’s up?” The teen replied.

“Well you know that since Roland and I moved in and Addy was born, that we’ve all grown a lot closer.”

“Yeah it’s been nice.” Henry replied.

“Yes, I’ve thought so too. That was why I was hoping that we might - uh, make it official.” Henry looked at Robin, a look of confusion on his face. “What I mean Henry is that I would very much like it if I could have your blessing to-to marry your mom.” At first, Henry made a serious face.

“I’m not sure…”

“It’s alright, my boy,” Robin quickly replied. “It was a stupid idea. Forget I said anything. I was wrong.”

“Robin! Just be quiet.” Henry replied with a laugh. “I was kidding.” He added with a smile. “Of course, you can marry her… if she says yes of course. Which, I’m pretty sure she will.”

“You mean it?” Robin asked

“You’d have to be blind to not see how much Mom loves you,” Henry replied. “You’re her soul mate. Just under all three of us kids, you’re the person she loves most in this world.”

“Well, thank you for your blessing Henry,” Robin said.

“In all seriousness, if you hurt her, you know you’ll have to answer to me.” Henry replied.

“Yes my boy, I know.” Robin replied. “ but I can’t even imagine hurting her.”

“I know, I just felt like I was supposed to say that, you know be overprotective and stuff. So how are you gonna do it?” Henry asked.

“Do what?”

“The proposal! How are you gonna ask mom?”

“That’s what I don’t know,” Robin replied honestly. “Nothing I think of seems good enough.”

“Well I’ll help you,” Henry replied. “Between the two of us, we’ll figure out something that’ll blow mom’s mind. This is going to be the most perfect proposal in the history of proposals.” Robin couldn’t help but laugh. He knew Henry was quite the romantic and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind with the young boy’s help, they would come up with something that would be absolutely perfect.

After a few days of planning and spitballing ideas, Robin and Henry had figured out a perfect night for Regina. Part one of the day was shopping. Snow had happily obliged instantly and after a little convincing, Emma agreed as well. Getting Regina to agree was another story. Henry knew that his mother was not a huge fan of shopping but she deserved a new dress and the opportunity to get something new for the special occasion.

“No.”

“Mom, you have to.” Henry told her. “I’ve already arranged the plans with Mom and Grandma.”

“You should have asked me first.” Regina retorted as she spoon fed some mushy apples and pears into Addy’s mouth. “You know that I hate shopping and I only tolerate Emma and your grandmother. They’re family and I love them but I don’t want to go shopping with them.”

“Well… they’ll be here in fifteen minutes…”

“What? Henry Daniel Mills!”

“You need a break, mom.” Henry told her. “Between being the mayor and trying to keep up with the three of us, you deserve to spend a day focusing on yourself…and maybe get a new dress.” Regina sighed.

“And who is going to watch your brother and sister?” She asked.

“Granny already agreed. She’ll be here soon and until then I’ll watch them. I can feed the little peanut some mush.” Henry told her as he took the little red bowl and spoon out of his mother’s hands. “Now go get ready. Grams and Mom will be here soon.” Regina rolled her eyes. She had learned not to fight with Henry because he was just as stubborn (though she’d never admit it) as she was. Leaving Henry to feed Addy, she went upstairs and got herself ready. Soon enough, she heard the beep of Emma’s yellow bug and looked out the window- sure enough, Snow and Emma were outside. Regina groaned. She hated shopping. Maybe she’d be able to convince them to abandon shopping and hit up a bar instead. Henry was right about one thing. She did need a break. She loved her children and Robin but sometimes things just got to be too much. Sluggishly, Regina made her way downstairs and grabbed her purse. She looked to Henry “You’re sure you’ll be alright until Granny gets here.”

“I’m positive mom, go!” Henry replied. “Say bye bye to Mama, Addy.”

“Buh bye!” The little girl chorused sweetly as she waved her chubby little hand at Regina.

“Bye bye baby,” Regina said as she pressed a kiss to the baby girl’s forehead. After that, she walked towards the front door and went out to meet Emma and Snow. Opening the back door, Regina climbed into the yellow bug.

“Yay, we’re all here! Let’s get this shopping trip going!” Snow said excitedly. “Where should we go first?”

“How about The White Rabbit?” Regina suggested.

“Regina, that’s a bar not a store!” Snow retorted.

“We’ve got a genius in the car.” The former queen replied sarcastically. “I’m aware it’s a bar. It just sounds more fun to me. Come on, Emma, I know that you hate shopping as much as I do. That’s why you haven’t bought another jacket in years”

“First of all, I like this jacket. Second of all, rude.” Emma told her. “And, we’re going shopping. We need a girls day.”

“We could have a girls day at the bar!” Regina exclaimed. Emma and Snow just ignored her and smirked at one another. They drove to the other side of town and pulled into a spot in front of the dress store, “Andalasia Fashions.”

“Alright, everyone out,” Emma said as she parked the bug. Reluctantly, Regina climbed out of the back of the car and followed Snow and Emma inside.

“Hello ladies! How can I help you!” The store owner, Giselle said, as she greeted them at the front door.

“We’re looking for some dresses!” Snow told her.

“Perfect! We’ve got lots for you to try on.”Giselle told them. “Feel free to roam around the store and find some dresses that you like. When you’re finished, you can bring them to the dressing room and we’ll get this fashion show going!” The girl practically squealed. Regina rolled her eyes. This girl was just as annoyingly cheerful as Snow. However, if she was going to be stuck there, she much as well look around. Regina went through all the racks and picked three dresses that she wanted to try on and made her way to the dressing rooms.

“Okay! Regina, you’re first!” Snow yelled loud enough for her to hear in the dressing room. Regina tried to ignore her step daughter and pulled on the first dress. The dress was black and had a neckline cut like a V that exposed her cleavage, maybe a little too much. The bottom of the dress flared out. Taking a breath, Regina stepped out of the dressing room and walked towards Emma, Snow and Giselle. All three were silent.

“So, what do you think?” Regina asked.

“It’s black…” Emma said

“And?”

“Half your wardrobe is black.” Emma told her

“And half of your wardrobe is that jacket.” Regina retorted.

“Hey, we’ve already picked on my jacket enough today. All I’m saying is that you could go a little out of your comfort zone and pick a color other than black.”

“I like the neckline though.” Snow added. Regina groaned and practically stomped into the dressing room. She took off the first dress and looked to her second dress. It was a skin tight teal dress with a v-neck like Snow wanted. She walked out and did a twirl.

“Well? I gave you color.” Once again, the three women didn’t speak. “Come on! I’m partaking in this stupid fashion show, the least you could do is be honest with me.”

“I like the neckline.” Snow chorused again.

“If you want honesty, you look like your ready to grow a tail and dive into the ocean.” Emma told her. Regina looked down. The dress did remind her a bit of the color of Ariel’s tail when she was in her mermaid form. Also the mermaid cut of the dress was not helping matters.

“You know I didn’t come on this trip to be insulted. This is why I hate shopping.”

“We just want you to find the perfect dress.” Snow told her.

“The perfect dress for what?!?” Regina exclaimed. “I don’t know what event you think I’m wearing this to. I don’t go out. I do my mayor duties and then I’m a mom. I get covered in baby food, dirt and spit up. I don’t wear dresses like these anymore.”

“Everyone needs a special dress just in case a special occasion comes along. Just go try on the last dress.” Snow told her. Regina stomped off to the dressing room once more and took off the second dress. The last dress was not similar to the other two in anyway. Frankly, Regina was surprised she picked it up. It was very different from something, she’d typically choose. The dress was a bright cherry red color. It covered her shoulders and also had V neckline. The bottom of the dress was flowy with a slit up her left leg. When Regina looked in the mirror, she was shocked at how much she loved this dress. It hugged her in all the right places and Regina really felt… sexy. She prayed that Emma and Snow liked this dress because she really didn’t want to hear any criticism about it. In her eyes, it was perfect. Regina walked out of the dressing room with a huge smile in her face. Emma and Snow could instantly see that Regina loved this dress.

“So?”

“It’s gorgeous, Regina.” Emma said. “You look amazing.” Regina looked over to Snow who practically had tears in her eyes.

“You look beautiful.” Snow told her, her voice choked up from the tears.

“Okay… thanks.” Regina said. “Why are you crying?”

“Oh...I-I’m fine.” Snow replied quickly as she wiped her eyes. “It’s just that time of the month you know. Hormones. Never know what’s gonna set me off.”

“Okay…didn’t need to know that.” Regina said. “But anyway, I love this dress. I think I wanna get it.”

“You absolutely should.” Emma told her. “Go change and then it’s our turn.” Regina nodded and headed into the dressing room. When she was gone, Emma elbowed her mother in the side. “Pull yourself together. If you don’t stop, they’re gonna start calling you weepy and make you the eighth dwarf. Do you want to give away the surprise?”

“I can’t help it. I’m just so happy for her.” Snow replied. “She just looked so beautiful and she deserves to be so happy. She has been through so much in her life and it’s finally time for her to find her happiness.”

“I agree with you, I do, but Regina’s smart. If you keep acting weird she’s gonna catch on and figure out what’s going on.” Emma told her. “Henry will never forgive us if we give away the surprise, so pull yourself together, okay.” Snow nodded and soon enough Regina emerged from the dressing room with the red dress in hand.

“Alright your turn.” She said motioning to Emma and Snow. “I get to judge your dress picks now.” Emma and Snow went along with the plan and tried on some dresses, though neither one actually bought one. After paying, the three women piled into the yellow bug and drove home to the mayor’s mansion. They went inside and Roland instantly flocked to his mother.

“Mama, you’re home!” He exclaimed as he ran to her arms.

“I am. Did you have a good day with Granny?”

“Yup! We played lots a games.” Roland told her. “And I won, right Granny?”

“That’s right.” Granny replied as she walked in from the kitchen with a squirmy Addy in her arms.

“There’s my girl!” Regina exclaimed as she took the smiley infant into her arms and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“She’s been fed, changed and she took a two hour nap.” Granny told her.

“That’s my good girl.” Regina cooed.

“Something came for you while you were out” Granny told her. “It’s in the kitchen.” Regina scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion and wandered into the kitchen. In the center of the island was a huge bouquet of red roses.

“Oh, they're beautiful.” Regina said as she picked up the card. She opened the envelope and smiled. The inside said “To my love, though these flowers are not nearly as beautiful as you are, I hope that you like them. I wanted to surprise you with a spontaneous date night, so get ready in that new dress and I’ll pick you up around five. - Robin.” Regina looked to Emma and Snow and gave them a look. “You knew… both of you.”

“Well, we couldn’t give away the surprise.” Emma told her. “We’re gonna get going so you can get ready. Henry is at my house, hanging out with Hook.”

“And these too little ones are coming with me.” Snow said motioning to Roland and Addy. “Now, let me get my hands on this little peanut.” Regina smirked at her stepdaughter and handed the little girl over to her.

“You have her stuff already? Her blankie and formula?” Regina asked.

“We have everything.” Snow told her. “Robin has taken care of everything. All you have to do is focus on yourself for the night.”

“Okay, thank you to you both.” Regina replied. She said goodbye to everyone and watched as they piled out the front door. Left all alone, Regina didn’t really know what to do with herself. It was rare that she got moments like this. She grabbed some leftovers from the fridge and heated them up to quell the hunger in her stomach. When she was finished, she looked at the clock and saw that it was already 3:30, so she decided to start getting ready. She went upstairs to her and Robin’s shared master bedroom and hopped into the shower. When she was finished, she dried off and slipped on the new dress that she had just bought. Next, she set off to do her makeup. She close a very subtle look, just enough to highlight her delicate features. She settled on a bold red lip to complete the ensemble. She dried her hair and decided to curl it. She didn’t really have time to curl it very often anymore, but tonight was a special night. She threw on some jewelry and a pair of nude heels and looked in the mirror. She looked… beautiful and she felt great. Suddenly, she heard the doorbell ring and a huge smile formed on her face. She carefully walked downstairs, trying not to trip or slip on her dress. When she opened the front door, it reveal Robin who was dressed in black pants and a red button up dress shirt.

“Regina… you look… wow.” The man stuttered out.

“You look pretty wow yourself.” She laughed.

“Are you ready for our date night, milady?” He asked, his hand outstretched to help her down the stairs.

“I am,” Regina replied as she took her soul mates hand. He led her outside and Robin open the door to Regina’s black Cadillac for her to climb inside. “Thank you,” she replied as Robin shut the car door, careful not to close it on her dress. Robin then went around and climbed into the driver’s side. He pulled away from the mayoral mansion and began to drive. “So, where are going?” Regina asked “Dinner? A movie? A ball?” She asked with a laugh.

“You’ll have to wait and see.” Robin told her.

“That’s not fair. You know I hate surprises. Can’t you just give me a hint.”

“I’m afraid not, milady.” Robin replied. “Just relax and we’ll be there soon enough.” Regina leaned back in her seat and stared out the window as they drove. As they got further away from home, Regina could tell that they were headed for Storybrooke’s beach. Robin pulled into a parking spot at the edge of the sand and then went around to the side of the car to open the door for Regina.

“If I had known we were going to the beach, I would never have worn heels.” Regina told him, a smirk on her face. She reached down and slipped off her heels and threw them back into the car. ``What now?” she asked.

“Allow me,” Robin replied, as he reached out a hand to Regina. She took it instantly and intertwined her fingers with his. Robin led her down the beach and tied to a wooden post were two gorgeous horses. One of the horses was completely black and the other was a beautiful chestnut brown color with a long strip of white down the front of his face.

“Oh my goodness, they’re beautiful.” Regina said as she walked up to the two horses. She was instantly drawn to the chestnut colored one. She rubbed the horses head and peered into his big black eyes. “It’s crazy… he looks just like my horse, Rocinante from back in the Enchanted Forest.”

“Henry mentioned that you used to ride.” Robin told her. “I thought you’d like the chance to do it again.”

“I would love too,” Regina replied, still stroking the horse’s mane.

“Then I’ll go and grab your saddle.”

“Oh I don’t need it.” Regina said, cutting him off. “I always ride bareback. I just need a leg up”

“Each day you continue to surprise me.” Robin replied, a huge smile on his face. He leaned down and boosted Regina up onto the horse. She swung her leg over the horse’s body and situated herself on top of the animal.

“I guess I’m lucky that I bought the flowy dress and not the tight one.” Regina said with a laugh.

“Yes, I suppose that could have proven more difficult.” Robin agreed. “So, should we go for a stroll.” Regina nodded her head and reached for Robin’s hand. They walked down the beach on the backs of the horses and gazed at the horizon as the sun began to set.

“I forgot how beautiful sunsets in Storybrooke could be.” Regina said in awe of the swirling colors in the sky.”

“They’re not nearly as beautiful as you, my love.” Robin replied as he looked over at Regina. In that moment, Robin couldn’t get over how truly beautiful she was. Her long black locks were blowing from the wind coming from the sea and her eyes sparkled in the sunlight.

“What’s got you so flirty tonight?” Regina asked with a smirk. “I mean, this is quite a lot of planning and effort for a date night.”

“And you’re worth every second of it,” Robin told her. “You deserve so much. You’re such an amazing partner and mother.”

“Well, I appreciate that.” Regina replied. “You’re pretty great yourself. If I’m being honest thought, just walking is getting a bit boring. How about we kick this up a notch?” “What did you have in mind, milady?”

“How about a race?”

“I’d hate to beat the lady on her special day,” Robin retorted with a white toothed smirk.

“Bring it, thief.” Regina replied. “On your mark, get set...Go!” Robin watched as Regina kicked her heels into the horse’s side and took off down the beach. He tried desperately to catch up with her, but he had to admit...Regina was an amazing rider. She knew exactly how to grip on to the horse’s mane and make him go faster. When they reached the end of the beach, Regina beat Robin by mile. “Anything to say now, thief?” Regina smirk as she hopped off the horse and walked over to Robin.

“You won, my love. I had no idea you were such a great rider.” Robin said as he pulled Regina’s body in close to his.

“And you didn’t let me win?”

“I would never.” Robin told her. “Are you ready to move on to the next part of the night?”

“There’s more?”

“The night is far from over, milady.” Robin told her. He took her by the hand and led her to a secluded corner of the beach where there was a blanket with candles set up. On the blanket was a picnic basket.

“Robin…” Regina said breathlessly. “This is amazing.” Walking hand in hand, the two of them headed over to the blanket and took a seat. Robin open up the picnic basket and pulled out a bottle of red wine (Regina’s favorite). He popped the cork out of the bottle and poured Regina and himself a glass.

“Cheers my love, to a night full of love.” Robin said.

“Cheers,” Regina agreed as she clinked her glass with Robin’s.

“Now, for food. I am many things but a cook is not one of them.” Robin laughed.

“I think out microwave agrees with that statement.” Regina laughed. “I don’t think I’ve met a person who couldn’t even manage microwave mac n’cheese. Even Henry can cook that.”

“Point taken,” the man agreed. “So, I got the next best thing...which happens to be your favorite.” He opened up the picnic basket and pulled out two grilled cheese sandwiches from Granny’s. Robin found it hilarious that a woman as serious and sophisticated as Regina loved food as simple as grilled cheese. Robin knew that she could never get enough of Granny’s grilled cheeses.

“Those are my favorite.” Regina mused as she took the sandwich from Robin and immediate dug in.

“That’s not the best part. There’s dessert.”

“Do tell,” Regina said. Robin reached once more into the picnic basket and pulled out an apple pie.

“I know you can’t resist an apple pie.”

“That is true…” Regina said. “Thank you...for tonight. We haven’t had a night like this to ourselves in a long time.”

“Anything for you, my love.” Robin told her. “Now, let’s eat because I can practically hear that stomach of yours growling. I think it might start a riot it if it doesn’t get some of that grilled cheese.” Regina laughed and happily obliged. She was starving. Those leftovers that she had scarfed down before leaving had not done much to fill her stomach. They ate in silence for a while. Then, Regina felt that Robin was staring at her.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing it’s just…you’re so beautiful.” He told her. “But...you do have cheese on your face.”

“What? Where?” Regina replied instantly. She looked around for a napkin but couldn’t find one.

“Let me,” Robin insisted. He leaned in and began to kiss Regina, making sure to get the small spot of cheese on her lips. Once he started, Robin didn’t want to stop. He pressed his body further onto Regina’s and held her close as they laid back on the blanket.

“Robin…” Regina said breathlessly before pushing her lips onto Robin’s. They made out for a while before lying down next to one another on the blanket. Robin wrapped his arms around Regina’s body and pulled her in close.”

“Love...can I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” she replied, turning over to look at the handsome man next to her.

“Are you happy?” he asked. “With me? With our life together?”

“Are you kidding me?” Regina replied. “I love our life. I love our children and most of all...I love you.” she replied, pressing one last kiss to his lips. “Are you happy?” She asked, pulling her lips away.

“Deliriously so.” Robin told her. She smiled one of her piercing white tooth smiles and Robin felt his heart flutter. “Are you ready for the last part of our evening?” Regina nodded.

“I’m always ready for anything you want to do.” she told him. “I’m in this with you. No matter what.”

“And I you.” Robin told her. “Shall we?” he asked after standing up from the sand and reaching his hands down to help Regina up. She took his hands and allowed him to pull her to her feet. They walked hand in hand back to the horses and rode them back to the car. When they arrived back at the car, Robin pulled a blind fold from his pocket.

“I have to put that on?” she asked.

“Do you trust me?” He asked. She smiled and nodded. Robin slipped the blind fold over her head. “No peeking alright? I know you like to peek.”

“I won’t peek,” she promised. “I just can’t find the car.” she added with a laugh.

“Leave that to me, my darling.” Robin told her. He gently took her by the hand and led her body to the car. Careful not to bump her head, Robin eased her down into the passenger seat and then went around to the driver’s side to get in himself. They had been driving for about five minutes when Regina first spoke.

“Are we almost there?”

“Patience my love. We’ll be there soon.” he told her. That answer seemed to satisfy her enough to get them to their final destination. Robin pulled the car over to the side of the road.

“Can I take this off yet?” she asked.

“Not yet.”

“How am I going to walk if I can’t see?” Regina retorted.

“I thought you trusted me.” Robin replied.

“I do.” She replied instantly. “I just also like having the ability to see where I’m going.”

“I will be your guide.” Robin told her. He pulled her in close and whispered “Trust me,” softly into her ear. He led her through a path in the forest.

“Are we in the forest, Robin? I can hear all the twigs snapping under my feet.” She asked.

“Maybe,” Robin told her. “Just a little bit further and then we can take that blindfold off.” He led her further down the path and then stopped her. “Alright, stay here. Wait five seconds and then you can take your blind fold off.”

“Where are you going?” she asked, hearing Robin’s footsteps grow quieter.

“I’m right here,” He told her. “Just take off your blindfold in 3...2...1….” Hearing Robin get to one, Regina removed the blindfold from her eyes and blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the sight before her. There was a path lit up by candles. On either side were all the people that they cared about. Snow and Charming were there with little Neal in their arms. On the other side were Hook and Emma who were cuddled in one another’s embrace. Granny and Ruby were there, along with all the other Merry Men. Finally at the end of the lines were Roland and Henry, who was holding Addy in his arms. At the very center of the path was Robin. Regina looked around completely stunned. She almost didn’t know what to do.

“What is happening?” she asked, looking to Snow. Snow smiled with tears in her eyes and reached out and gave her a red rose.

“This is it, Regina… it’s time to find your happiness.” She said. Regina took the rose into her hands and continued to look around. She wandered further down the path and accepted roses from Emma and Hook, Granny, Ruby and all of the Merry Men.

“Here Mama,” Roland said as she also handed her a rose.

“Thank you, baby.” Regina replied, her eyes welling with tears. Then, she moved onto Henry who handed her two roses, one for himself and one for Addy.

“I’m so happy for you, Mom.” Henry told her. “Now go,” he added, motioning to Robin. Regina looked over at Robin...her soul mate and walked closer to him.

“Robin… I-” Regina began. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“That’s a good thing because it is my turn to talk,” He began with a laugh. “Regina, my love, from the moment that we met, I knew that there was something special about you. Since that day, my love for you has only grown stronger and I can say honestly that my heart belongs only to you. You bring me so much joy and happiness...and those were two things that for a while I wasn’t sure I was capable of feeling any longer. I love every little thing about you… I love you eyes and your smile, but mostly I love your heart. I love how you care and protect those that you love with the fierceness of lioness. I love watching you with our children and seeing you nurture and love each and every one of them. Regina, you are my favorite person...my soulmate, my true love, my future. I want to spend every last moment of my life making you happy.” Robin stopped talking for a second and looked over to Henry who handed him a red velvet ring box. “I don’t have another rose for you, my love, but I hope that you’ll love this just as much.” He knelt down on one knee and opened up the ring. Regina gasped when she saw it. It was beautiful. The band was slender and golden. In the center was an oval shaped purple sapphire and there were three tiny diamonds on either side of the larger stone. “This ring was my mother’s,” he told her. “And, I knew she would want you to have it. So, Regina Mills, love of my life, will you marry me?” He asked.

Regina looked down at the man before her completely in awe. She had come so far from her days as the Evil Queen where she truly never believed that she’d find love or happiness. Losing Daniel has felt like someone shot her in the heart. It had created a hole in her heart that felt like it could never be repaired. However, now as she looked into Robin’s crystal blue eyes, she could see the love that he had for her and she could say wholeheartedly that Robin had repaired that hole that had once been there. Every inch of her heart belonged to Robin now. She had so much she wanted to say to him...to tell him how much she loved him but she was too overwhelmed by her emotions in that moment and the most that she could muster was a breathless “Yes,” She nodded her head once more to make sure that Robin knew what she was saying was true. “Yes, I will marry you,” she added, tears in her eyes. Robin beamed and slid the ring over her ring finger before pulling her in for a kiss. Even as they were kissing, Regina could hear clapping and cheering behind her. When she broke away from Robin’s kiss, everyone was coming to congratulate them. Regina felt like everything in slow motion. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She had Robin. She had her three beautiful children. She had the Charming’s and Emma and Hook. She had so many people that loved her. “This is it,” Regina thought. “This is what true happiness feels like.” Regina soaked in every moment. She knew in that moment, this wasn’t a happy ending. It was a happy beginning.

#once upon a time #outlawqueen #regina mills #robin hood #klainelover1997 #littlej097 #forthoseinmyheart

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